Ruger 10/22 for general varmint control and small game. Ruger wrangler .22 revolver for snakes and close up varmint control, works well with ratshot. Browning BPS 12 gauge for pretty much all shotgun needs.
1911 is also a damn fine handgun.
The movie starred David Bowie’s cock, David Bowie was just a supporting actor.
Upvoted even though your comment created intense loathing and a little rage within me.
So I get 10 years of wealth before you harvest my soul? Just sign on the dotted line? Is this ink made from blood?
I’d watch the fuck out of that.
Like, no. All sorts of carbide bits, including drill bits.
Lot of tungsten producers and recyclers in the US, kennemetal for instance. They would be happy to come get that cube, might have to crack it into smaller pieces.
My presentation had the Russian video where the kid gets wrapped up around a bar. Also had the pictures from where the guy got wrapped around a chuck and there is an eyeball sitting on top of the pile.
The manual lathe is the most dangerous piece of equipment in a shop in terms of fatalities. They cannot be made ‘safe’. You can only train people how to use them safely and not put idiots on them.
I’ve seen the chuck key of shame used and support its use. My rule was one chuck key fuckup, second offense, immediate termination.
I used to have a safety presentation on lathes. It was called, “The Happy Fun Lathe Safety Presentation.” Kittens and puppies on the title and chock full of gore.
SPEAK UP, F**ET! FADDER CAN’T HEAR YOU!
Spacedicks was a terrible place full of terrible people, but I still feel like something has been lost.
I might die if I couldn’t cuss while working. I’d just fucking explode.
I cuss during job interviews, both as the interviewer and applicant.
Shh. Only dreams now.
Ehh. IDK if that would be bad or good for Linux. More choices against the possibility of weaker teams/poorer code. Even if things did fragment for a while, one version likely comes out on top and everyone migrates slowly back together.
Interwebs and tech seems to route around this sort of thing.
No clue how all this shakes out. Not real invested in this ideological/bureaucratic slap fight.
It’s always entertaining when Linus flames off.
Howdy! Welcome to Lemmy! Thank you for responding.
I’ve never had a kidney stone and hope I never do. Paternal grandfather would get them.
You’re a sick fuck. Probably be in good company here. I was up all night working on a presentation for our local BDSM community.
From what I know about sounding: Purchase quality stainless sounds. They should be passivated and have a high polish. They should be boiled for sterilization and you should use sterile lube. Go slow, they should slip in by their own weight, don’t force them. Lot of guys get a whole lot of pleasure from them.
Personally, I have a double urethra. Two holes inside the slit of my cock. Like an over-under shotgun, if that makes sense. No way in hell I’m trying sounding. Have been cathed in the hospital, both tubes join into one somewhere back in there.
Anna’s Archive for ebooks.
I mean, I have a home server setup with 32 terabytes of NAS in a RAID 5 running the *Arrs and Jellyfin pulling from Usenet. Also running Calibre and paying for Anna’s.
Like I told a friend that got huffy with me over how I do my sailing, “I been pirating since you had babyteeth.”
You can be prickly if you want, but increased piracy is a symptom of a service problem. If Netflix hadn’t gone to shit, I’d still be using it. I’m considering paying for Samsung’s art subscription for my TV.
I will pay a reasonable price for convenient media. Make it difficult or expensive enough, and I’ll sail the high seas. Time is money.
I’ve been paying for a Pandora subscription for about a decade. Worth it. (Piracy is a service problem.)
Their recommendations for similar bands, auto play, and making stations from a band or song has let me discover so much music over the years.
“cornbread with no Jiffy”
Real cornbread isn’t that sugared junk that comes in a box.
Dang. My grandmother died last fall. I visited her right before she passed. I’m estranged from the family. Didn’t go to the funeral. Found out she’s buried next to my father when I went to visit his grave before moving.
She had two cast iron skillets she made cornbread in. Crunchy crust. Beats anything you’ve had in a restaurant. When I was little she’d put a hot slice in a bowl of milk and I’d eat it like cereal.
My girl has her grandmother’s skillet. Her and the kids like the Jiffy stuff but she makes me real cornbread because she knows it’s important to me.
Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. if my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad. Hiro used to feel that way, too, but then he ran into Raven. In a way, this is liberating. He no longer has to worry about trying to be the baddest motherfucker in the world. The position is taken. The crowning touch, the one thing that really puts true world-class badmotherfuckerdom totally out of reach, of course, is the hydrogen bomb. If it wasn’t for the hydrogen bomb, a man could still aspire. Maybe find Raven’s Achilles’ heel. Sneak up, get a drop, slip a mickey, pull a fast one. But Raven’s nuclear umbrella kind of puts the world title out of reach. Which is okay. Sometimes it’s all right just to be a little bad. To know your limitations. Make do with what you’ve got.
-Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash
Having exported myself from the deep South to Yankee land, “Y’all have a good one!” never fails to brighten the day of someone working a cash register.
In general, folks up here really like southern politeness. They think sugar wouldn’t melt in my mouth. I get stopped in stores to talk all the time. Pretty frequently, they just give me a discount. I thought Yankees were supposed to be rude, but they’re actually really nice in public.