I liked it better when the news story was just about a crazy guy who'd hopped the White House fence and gone zig-zagging across the lawn. I felt pretty sure that the as-yet-unnamed dude was an off-his-meds loon who was obsessed with the president because that's generally who does that sort of thing; sane people with jobs rarely take a day off work to go get gang-tackled by the Secret Service White House detail.
Of course the media then revealed he was... dum-dum-DUMMM ...a homeless Iraq vet! And you know how crazy those vets of The BAD War are...
Brown Alert, as the newsreader went into full pants-$#!+ting hysterics.
I was quite literally rolling with helpless, shrieking fits of laughter as this island-dwelling herbivorous midget put a quaver in her voice describing this (and I quote) "arsenal of weapons". I suppose she thought the guy was going to get inside the front door, telepathically summon the junk from his trunk, parked blocks away, like he was Magneto or something, and then he'd load the "800 bullets" into the hatchets and use them to do some stupid thing from a bad Quentin Tarantino knockoff I guess because this whole train of thought is so stupid that I just can't even.
Seriously, people, pull yourselves together and use your heads for something other than a place to hang earrings. And whatever you do, don't look in the trunk of my car, because I was too lazy to drag the range bag in last night. If you flip that badly over some Boy Scout camping supplies, then a couple pistols and some ammo cans full of BBs will blast the sanity from your mind like reading book bound in human skin in a bad H.P. Lovecraft pastiche.