Where's that asteroid when you REALLY need it?

I’m having a really bad day (again). My co-workers are morons, my bosses are worse, my customers can’t tell their ass from a hole in the ground, I keep hitting red lights, my printer is dying, the light over my computer desk just blew out, and I want to go screaming up and down the street. It’s one of those days where I go outside, look up, and wonder where the hell that earth-smashing asteroid is. Not just a little thing, mind you, but a 500-mile diameter, 300,000 ton behemoth that couldn’t be stopped by Bruce Willis and every nuke on the planet and I want it land smack dab on the place where I work. No warning. No chance for anyone to survive. Just little chunks o’earth floating in space for all eternity.

There, I feel better now.

Uh, Trump, while I wholeheartedly symphathize with you, that 500-mile diameter asteroid could ruin my day as well.

Might I suggest your garden variety assault rifle or fuel oil/fertilizer explosive as an alternative? I was looking forward to going fishing this weekend, not dodging asteroids.


“…send lawyers, guns, and money…”

 Warren Zevon

Uh, BluePony…

You could handle that pretty simply couldn’t you. F-15, flight plan, a couple hundred live rounds, OOOPS – global locator went down, OOOPS – that didn’t look like the bombing range!

Now it wouldn’t be too good for the ol’ career… but still.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…fertilizer…

Trumpy, try this:

Invite everyone in your office and all of your most irritating customers to a big party, your treat. Buy lots of booze and very little food. Make sure everyone gets drunk. Make sure the party is held in a fairly small room with a ventilation system you can shut off manually from outside the room.

At the party, have only ‘drinking’ games that encourage everyone to get stinking drunk. When everyone starts to pass out, or at least is clearly plastered, leave the room. Go to your ventilation control. Pour as much carbon tetrachoride into the ventilation system as you can get your hands on, and then shut the system.

Guess why.

A quick web search suggests that carbon tetrachloride has toxic effects on the liver. Does this mean that everyone will die of alcohol poisoning?

ChiefScott—

I "flew" armored personnel carriers and patrol cars in the Air Force (I'm "retired", or "retarded", as some see it). I was a ground-pounder for 20 years, planes scare me. They either drop shit on you or give you the worst, bone-jarring ride of your life. I love contact with Mother Earth. You cannot fall off the ground.

As a final note to this asteroid shit---- Trumpy, you have a helluva lot of nerve wishing an asteroid strike with the first day of NFL FOOTBALL coming up this most glorious and sacred Sunday!! Life is good.

“…send lawyers, guns, and money…”

 Warren Zevon

Trumpy, here’s a little poem by Mrs. Parker that might make you feel better, at least for a moment or two:

If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains.

Or, had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.

But I have no lethal weapon–
Thus does Fate our pleasure step on!
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.

sweetheart…On your next break, go get a large chocolate milk, drink it with a straw…outside, and take off your shoes and socks and rub your toes in the grass.

I guarantee this will make you feel better…
Kisses,
Kelli

Auraseer: No, actually when alcohol vapor and carbon tet vapors meet on the alveoli of the lungs, a substance very near(in effect) to phosgene is generated. Phosgene, besides being a common industrial solvent, was once one of the nastier technical innovations of WWI.

He said “phosgene.” Heh-heh. Heh-heh.

Awright, Chief – now you done it. Just for that –

A golfer is out on the 15th hole. He tells his caddy to give him the 2 iron, but the caddy says “no, use the 3 wood.” “Excuse me, son? I said the 2 iron.” “No, sir. Trust me. Use the 3 wood.” So the man agrees, and smacks the ball with the 3 wood so far that it sails to the club and hits his wife on the back of her head, killing her instantly. 5 months later, he’s back on the same hole on the same course, with the same caddy. He asks the caddy for the 2 iron. Again, the caddy suggests the 3 wood. “Son, I don’t know if you remember me, but I was here with you 5 months ago, and on this same spot, you made me use the 3 wood and do you know what happened!!!.. I went 9 over par!”

But what king of a lie did he have after the noggin shot? Did he make the green in reg and save par?
The Little Red Book has no advice on whether you can clean your ball after killing your spouse. Hmmmm…

Dunno, this is just me, but if the “big one” knocks out all those massive butt-munchers you work with it’s gonna take you out too… I rather like you and would prefer you stick around. Hell, if I can, so can you! It’s only fair, ya know!


The moon looks on many flowers, the flowers on but one moon.

IF AN ASTROID DID HIT WOULD IT OR COULD IT HIT AT 1600 AVE? AS FOR CHIEF SCOTT YOUR COOL AND NO THE BALL COULD BE CLEANED BY HITTING IT IN A WATER HAZARD.


BY THE WAY THE ASTROID IS COMEING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU. NOW PLEASE DO NOT FRET ABOUT BAD DAYS, I HAVE THEM TO AND I AM PERFECT IN EVERY WAY.

Horn Dogg, don’t shout when I have a headache.

In addition, don’t shout when I don’t have a headache.

In addition to the addition, if you ever refer to yourself as “perfect” again, I will hunt you down.

Then I will kill you.

Have a so-so day.


If you’re an optimist, you haven’t been paying attention.

THE FUCKING HORN DOGG felt the overwhelming need to scream the following: IF AN ASTROID DID HIT WOULD IT OR COULD IT HIT AT 1600 AVE? AS FOR CHIEFSCOTT YOUR COOL AND NO THE BALL COULD BE CLEANED BY HITTING IT IN A WATER HAZARD. BY THE WAY THE ASTROID IS COMEING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU. NOW PLEASE DO NOT FRET ABOUT BAD DAYS, I HAVE THEM TO AND I AM PERFECT IN EVERY WAY.

Okay, where to start? It’s asteroid. I would hope it only hit at 1600 if you were there at the time. And it’s “CheifScott, you’re cool”. I’m not surprised you posted that, I mean, this from a dork that posts under Interests: EVERYTHING THING IN THIS WORLD. My God, it’s attack of The The eye creatures all over again!

It’s “coming soon” and I hope you are in the theater it hits. It’s “I have them too” and you are so far from perfect that my fingers hurt with holding back about your many, screamingly obvious, faults.

How can I sum this up? I can’t. Your hideous post speaks volumes about the massive loser that you are. And screaming at everyone just makes it even more clear. Learn to type. Learn to spell. Learn to keep your trap flapped. Learn to pull your hands out of your butt before you post.

Ya’ll can speculate till the cows come home, but for real help come to the Wizard.
I am a former crew chief for the B-52D, and I still have friends in both Logistics and computer tracking over at a certain Air Force base in southern California.
So where did you want the big one dropped? :slight_smile:


They call me MISTER Wizard!

slythe: can you pinpoint this screaming knuckle-dragger? Don’t take out anyone else… unless he’s reproduced! If there is actually a woman on this planet who, while tripped out on morphine, decided to have his children, then please, take them all out! Think of it as a retro-active abortion.

Is it just me or is everyone who has talked about the assault rifles and fertilizer on this board sick? Call me eccentric, but I think that jokes about Columbine et al, are at the least in exceedingly bad humor. It is one thing to wish a giant meteorite would strike the Earth, but an entirely different thing to suggest to a frustrated person to grab an assault rifle and go balistic.


There is no safety for honest men but by believing all possible evil of evil men.

–Edmund Burke