So we had to give the cat a pill because she has a tapeworm because the stupid cunt eats raw mice. I swear that it has cocaine in it, the cat has been going nuts. Jägerette wants to take one because the cat is having so much fun. Also, "Julie and Julia" is really just "You've Got Cookbook"
Oh my God, holy shit, I totally didn't think of that when I posed the question. Phew, thank goodness I'm not running the situation. That was Dixie that suggested tear gas, not "you guys." There are any number of odorless, colorless gases preventing the hostage-taker from noticing until the effects begin. And, if they did it say, at 2:00 am when the kid is likely asleep, the hostage-taker might be impaired by the gas before he realized it. And, yes, I also realize there are a number of dangerous outcomes, they don't know what dose will be right for the adult and not lethal for the kid, etc. But, since that's not my area, I thought somebody here with some pharmacological experience might suggest something that would possibly work, or have physically reactive negative implications that would make it not worth it. At some point, like it or not, somebody is going to have to weigh the risk-benefits-costs to ending this standoff, and those include the optrions where the hostage might be hurt. Or, hurt worse - I'm sure being snatched at gun point and held hostage in a bunker won't have any long-term effects for a kid with issues already.
Yes I'm aware that dixie suggested tear gas. This is why I merely said that "gas" doesn't work instantaneously. I was just kind of curious as to how many other people have been tear gassed. But I like this part: In every other thread we have (see: gun control thread), there was a lot of moralistic chest beating about "has there been a single post in this thread with an idea that would prevent another Sandy Hook?" Oh well. That's the board. Anyways, name me a gas that would result in an instant knock-out out of the hostage taker without the capacity for him to hurt the kid, and that would be reasonably safe to use with the kid in the room. Really, I'm curious. Since you know all about them. Also since we're on the subject, from the hostage-taking adventure that brought you Stockholm Syndrome... <a class="postlink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norrmalmstorg_robbery" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norrmalmstorg_robbery</a> I was told that the hostage-takers had strung up the hostages so that if any gas was used, they'd be hanged when they lost consciousness.
His ass goes all the way up his back. I imagine he farts dark matter. This kidnapper called down the thunder, now he's got it. Also, another crazy person doing something very crazy. If only there was some kind of federally funded place he could have been sent for treatment/confinement where he couldn't purchase a firearm. No, no, that's infringing on people's rights. What am I thinking.
Upon further inspection, his grundle fat is resting between his knees... BETWEEN HIS KNEES! How does that happen?
Jesus where does his grundle end and his legs begin? I bet his inner thigh area around his balls gets that weird black skin crust that diabetic people get in their skin folds. Do you think he's seen his penis in years? Does he care?
I have no fucking clue. A lawyer who served as opposing counsel on a number of cases I worked on last summer had grundle fat between his knees. His suit pants looked something akin to MC Hammer pants with a blob the size of a watermelon between his knees. His size was an obvious distraction to the jury. I couldn't help but feel bad for the poor guy.
Yeah, I suggested using an instant knock-out gas. Oh, wait, no I didn't. And, I didn't even recognize the fact the child could be hurt with the gas option. Oh, wait, I did. And, I stated clearly that gases of this sort are my area of expertise. Oh, wait. I didn't. Damn, dude, for a pretentious dickhead with Condescending Overcorrective Disorder, you have some serious reading comprehension issues. Hey, anybody like boobs?
I know it's a cliche to hate your supervisor, but I honestly fucking hate him. You can't understand how maddening it is to work under a filthy beared hippie.....that's German. So, on top of the fact he's a filthy bearded hippie, he's a completely condescending cuntbag, dangling his authority over me to mess with my work life in any way he can just because I refuse to play cards wtih him at lunch. Seriously, this ponytail-sporting cretin simply brightens his day by trying to ruin mine on a weekly basis for nearly three years now so today I told him he was a fake and a lowlife. I accused him of giving carte blanche to his little clique of homerotic thieves. He tried to write we up for slow work performance. I'm on light duty because I have a broken tailbone so I refused to sign it. He said "But, you HAVE to sign it!" I told him unless he roofied me, put the pen in my hand and wiggled my signature on the dotted line then I was NOT signing that fucking sheet. I fucking refuse to be shit-heeled at a physical job when I have one of the most agonizing fractures you can get. Fucking clown. I'm masturbating to the thought of gauging his eyes out with a melon baller and pouring gasoline in the empty sockets.
Have you ever seen someone who's had surgery to remove a huge fupa that came down between the ankles? I have. That's what we call "max assist x4" in the biz, and it's even more pleasant than it sounds. Worst wound smell ever. EVER!!!!!!!! Every time I walked into the room I thought, "Today's the day that I herniate everything L1-S1."
But then the guy will fake his own death, and at a later date attach plastic explosives on to a combine thresher: "Okay hotshot, you think you're so smart well you're on a combine that will explode if it goes below 2 miles an hour or cuts the row out of sync. What do you do?"
Today's cocktail hour is brought to you by the Palm Beach Special: 1.5 oz Gin .5 oz Grapefruit juice .5 oz Vermouth Pinch of sugar 2 dashes Orange bitters Original recipe was way too rough so I added the last two ingredients. Shake everything with ice, strain into a martini glass. Finish with the bitters. I need a new career. A boozy career.