Straylight

I am going to start a side business at work….I could make a killing.

Read this : http://gizmodo.com/5027010/wasp-knife-will-freeze-and-blow-up-your-organs

That’s some boolshit right there. I’m not joking, that’s pretty fucked up by my standards.

I’m not talking about the knife, I’m talking about the fact that the UK is really bothered by this. You know why I’m not to bothered by this? We have guns in my country. Our police will shoot your ass. Let me know if that freaky knife will work out well for you…

BTW – getting refils for that can’t be easy. If you’re going to do all that damn work, get a job you ass.

http://yro.slashdot.org/article.pl?sid=08/07/15/1933257

Best quote ever:

On July 16, for instance, he filed a complaint alleging that the Mossad, the CIA and “Larry King Live” conspired to “hijack my torso, three toes, and my constitutional rights and ship them to a secret headquarters in Concord, NH,” as well as inserted microchips and “dashing my hopes.” He accuses Larry King of being “a voodoo witch doctor who stole my identity on February 25th, 2003 and purchased lead paint, Chips Ahoy!, Planter’s Peanuts, and Ziploc bags under my identity. Distributed them to the CIA to microwave test my DNA.” 

Wait — it got better:

You might say that he showed some restraint in his Aug. 14 “Batman and Identity Robbin’” suit against Barry Bonds. Although he accuses the Giants slugger of selling steroids to nuns, bench-pressing him “against [his] will” and using “Hank Aaron’s corked bat” to “crack the Liberty Bell,” he seeks a only modest “42,000,000.00 million dollars in Swiss Francs.” According to Riches, Bonds also “gave mustard gas to Saddam Hussein, as part of the oil for food scandal.”

http://blog.washingtonpost.com/offbeat/2007/08/man_of_many_suits_1.html

http://www.gunsamerica.com/Search/Category/658/2/Guns/Rifles/Springfield-Armory-Rifles/M1-Garand.htm

You know, because it make sense.

In memorandum…… 

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. “

-Dylan Thomas