Poll This, M*&#-^ F*'#@%`!

My mother is 79. A country girl who raises chickens, she lives over near Louisville. (Side note - she's smoked most of her life and can still kick your ass if you mess with her ... or her chickens).

She's meaner than a rattlesnake when provoked.

Yesterday someone just had to provoke. She received a phone call that, because caller ID showed that it had the same area code as my cell number (571, Maryland), she answered, thinking it might be me.

It turned out to be from one of those out-of-state political polling groups. The conversation went like this:

"Is this Mrs. Fuhrman?"
"Yep."
"Are you registered for the election in November?"
"Yep."
"Are you going to vote in the November election?"
"Yep."
"How are you registered, Republican or Democratic?"
"Independent.
"What is your age?"
"That is my business and no one else's."
"How do you intend to vote in this election?"
"Sir, that is the reason we have a secret ballot."
(Click.)

She was obviously in a good mood yesterday. She didn't reach through the phone and pinch his head off ...