No Tinfoil needed

[Cajun Jihad]

Greetings fellow patriots! Houston we have a problem! A big one. I'm located in South Louisina 337. On February 28 a white SUV pulled up to the house with red DHS lettering with Texas plates. (Texas WTH i thought y'all were with us) I saw them pull in the drive an met them outside at their truck 2 agents late 40s-50s. They say Hi we are here doing a survey. One agent pulls out 3 volumes (looked like phone books almost sizewise) He ruffles through the pages in first then second volume. He finds my list (The 1 that they don't have). he says so we are doing a survey and we are going around visiting everyone and trying to verify if you own or still have these firearms. He proceeds to show me my list. Every gun i bought from a dealer is on this list. Every one from 22s to Mosin Nagants and everything in between. I was blown away and still am. Many bricks have been shat since then! I told them nah i don't have any of those dangerous baby killers gave them all away after Newtown. They left but sat parked down the road for a couple hours. Probably coordinating drone strike. I have ony told a couple of close friends i trust. I've been tryng to keep it together. The first person i told also had a visit exactly 2 weeks before me. He ordered a questionable part off the net an that's what the agents told him they were after. He lives 5 minutes down the road. I was freaked then but I didn't think anything of it you know he brought it on himself. Until i got a visit. All my stuff is legal and above board. No worries on that part. But then why did i recieve a visit? I don't know i've been gripped with fear since. Keeping watch on my porch, almost sleeping outside some nights. And then yesterday my wife's friends parents who are an hour north of us got a visit. Only the mom was home and she told them to hit the street. These people are farmers and have guns but mostly Fudd guns and relics passed down. The father was going somewhere on business this weekend and next week. He cancelled. Even the Fudds aren't safe from this. My only solace in all of this is the 3 massive volumes the jackboots had. I know i'm not the only one. I don't know what to do?! It took this long for me to tell somebody else. My wife and i are scared [crap]less!I'm not sure if they are testing the waters seeing who will comply. Or if it's something else entirely. Why down here? Why not in Commiefornia or one of these other liberal dreamlands? I thougt we were good we just voted to strengthen the 2nd in our state. i just keep saying in my head. WTF?

[stephenjohnbanker]

: )

[NoCmpromiz]

*This* is me...

Sorry Laz, Ain't Nobody Got Time For That

But that pic sure looks a lot like Pvt. Doberman from the Sgt. Bilco (Phil Silvers) show, in drag...

[NoCmpromiz]

some quantum mechanics principle

I'm sure that is somewhat related to the uncertainty of determining both the spin and the position simultaneously. Werner Heisenberg is vindicated!

[NoCmpromiz]

60 on a dirt road will do amazing, but not wonderful, things to your suspension

So will 60 on most streets in Gotham...

That's why 98% of those yellow things rattle loudly...

[JoeProBono]

[ArGee]

So will 60 on most streets in Gotham...

They will also "pound your fanny with the hammer" if they catch you going that fast without lights and a siren.

[NicknamedBob]

"Yep....I hope to make it to 60 : )"

"There's a milepost up ahead."

No wait, my mistake. That one's showing in the rear-view mirror.

Teeny, tiny signpost.

[Monkey Face]

I think that’s the same milepost in my rear-view mirror. :o|

[Monkey Face]

And that, children, is the end of the mustard plaster.

The nausea is getting to me, so I’m going to bed.

See all y’all tomorrow!

[stephenjohnbanker]

Oh well....

[Silentgypsy]

I’m very sorry to hear about Werner what’s-his-name. Have you seen Schrodininger’s cat? I hope Werner feels better soon.

[Silentgypsy]

Maybe.

[Silentgypsy]

Or as perfect.... <> You got that right, partner!

[Silentgypsy]

60 isn’t really possible in Gotham. If you’re doing 15, you feel as if you’re careening all over the place.

[Silentgypsy]

Schrodininger’s cat?

Cackle! Good night and sweet dreams, y'all! I have a lot of work to catch up on, so I'll hopefully see you on Monday! Godspeed!

[NicknamedBob]

"I think that’s the same milepost in my rear-view mirror."

The point to be drawn from this, is that the milepost of sixty does not represent the end of the road.

Even the end of the road doesn't represent the end of the road, if ya know what I mean!

I plan to build a sailboat.

[Darksheare]

Or, alternately, the dryer opens a dimensional tear that drags socks through to some bizarre dimension.
Or the past, so some caveman is absolutely baffled by the strange things flying at him.

[JoeProBono]

Drops of Jupiter

[NoCmpromiz]

Have you seen Schrodininger’s cat?

Yes. As a matter of fact the cat is alive and dead...

In much the same manner as being able to have Tea and No Tea simultaneously...

And you can also have ATS, something that tastes almost but not quite entirely unlike tea. About the only characteristic it shares with tea is that of Brownian motion. (Of course, if you found that bit of information true, you have permanently lost 30 points from your score...)

[NicknamedBob]

"Even the end of the road doesn't represent the end of the road, if ya know what I mean!"

"I plan to build a sailboat."

Told you I was thinking about a sailboat!

Time Is Given

Here my last day before I cross, a magic, mystic river,
You want more time? Here, have some more,
Time rolls by so lazily, so generous a giver.
Take all that you may choose, and care not for,

The ways that you may use. It is a gift.
It’s yours to do with as you may,
No green-eyeshaded clerk will sift,
And sort reports about your day.

Time is given, like sunshine, unending in its glory,
Expanding all around you everywhere.
As you work to write your story,
Be sure to contemplate your words with care.

An ocean of time has flowed by me,
The source seems just as fresh.
I’ve loved the dance and company,
And other pleasures of the flesh.

I have enjoyed the quiet times.
I’ve read ten thousand books,
And music that’s wrapped up in rhymes,
And treasured sultry looks.

The gift of time that I have had,
Is like a tool of sorts,
So carefully the good and bad,
I put in my reports.

I know you’ve read them, and enjoyed,
My childlike glee to write them.
Despite the skill I have employed,
Don’t ask me to recite them.

They stretch back like the days gone past,
In all the varied ways I trod,
I did not think they long would last,
But I have marked the trail I plod.

Tomorrow starts another trail,
Adventure waits once more.
I think I’ll find myself a sail,
When I reach the final shore.

NicknamedBob . . . . February 26, 2005

See? It pays to plan ahead. (Nice to have a functional memory system, too!)

Time Is Given

Here my last day before I cross, a magic, mystic river,
You want more time? Here, have some more,
Time rolls by so lazily, so generous a giver.
Take all that you may choose, and care not for,

The ways that you may use. It is a gift.
It’s yours to do with as you may,
No green-eyeshaded clerk will sift,
And sort reports about your day.

Time is given, like sunshine, unending in its glory,
Expanding all around you everywhere.
As you work to write your story,
Be sure to contemplate your words with care.

An ocean of time has flowed by me,
The source seems just as fresh.
I’ve loved the dance and company,
And other pleasures of the flesh.

I have enjoyed the quiet times.
I’ve read ten thousand books,
And music that’s wrapped up in rhymes,
And treasured sultry looks.

The gift of time that I have had,
Is like a tool of sorts,
So carefully the good and bad,
I put in my reports.

I know you’ve read them, and enjoyed,
My childlike glee to write them.
Despite the skill I have employed,
Don’t ask me to recite them.

They stretch back like the days gone past,
In all the varied ways I trod,
I did not think they long would last,
But I have marked the trail I plod.

Tomorrow starts another trail,
Adventure waits once more.
I think I’ll find myself a sail,
When I reach the final shore.

NicknamedBob . . . . February 26, 2005