I return to my community in full measure the horse dung and spitting peasants that they force me to endure as I go about none of their business. And the best way to do that is community service, and I do mine in the for profit charity sector. I volunteer at a Suicide Distress Call-Center, of my own creation. I intervene, more efficiently, than does the clumsy, over supervised, state apparatus. And I have people of good character help me in this work. My friend Conrad helps me at the Suicide Distress Call-Center line I run as the methods seminar from intermediate fraud at the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence.
Archive for the ‘Chicks With Large Weapons’ Category
The things we find unthinkable are the things we fear. Why think about that? Take the worst case scenario: you are a well-equipped survivalist: you have your retreat, your bunkers, your years supplies of food. But the disaster that comes is one you are not prepared for. This is unthinkable, and, for everybody, not just survivalists, to be caught unprepared, in general, fills people with fear. What could a prepared survivalist be unprepared for? Being prepared is their strong point. So, I suspect that the number of things that they have not thought about is few, and as picked over as a week old carcass in the California desert.
And so the feature Chicks With Large Weapons ends with a picture of a chick with large weapons.
You know, it will never get any better than this.
If I was alive when this hotsy-totsy was in her heyday, I would definitely let her shoot me with her large weapon. And I don’t mean that in a sexual way, I actually feel that if I lived way back then that I would have had a death-wish, therefore, I would have asked that dame to shoot me.
That may have sounded rather odd, but until you can walk 1.6 km in my shoes, you cannot possibly judge me.
Where are all my commenters?
I actually posted this picture ages ago, but for some reason I thought I might post it again, so I decided to keep it. As a matter of fact, so certain I was that I would use it again, that I printed it off and blew it up to a 16 x 20 and pinned it to the ceiling right over my bed. Yes, the same bed that TLDG and I use when we make love every day at 12 pm sharp. The strange part is that TLDG is always on bottom, so it’s actually her looking up at the ceiling. As for me, I do what I always do: close my eyes and dream about looking at myself in a Speedo while walking along some exotic beach in Malawi. Uh huh, Malawi – the poorest nation on earth.
The Classical Liberal identified yesterday’s large chick weapon as a sniper rifle, and then MUD went even further and correctly identified it as a .50 Cal Sniper Rifle w/Flash Reducer. How do I know MUD is correct? Well, it sure sounds bloody correct, doesn’t it? Are you saying MUD is incorrect? Would you like MUD’s address, maybe you can meet him at a Starbuck’s and discuss it with him. So then, we all agree that MUD is correct? I thought so.
I’ll be perfectly honest and tell you flat out that I don’t know squat about firearms. However, I do know from personal experience that street people hate being beaten senseless with the base of a lamp. That’s all I’m going to say.