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Maggie’s Motivational Pic Thread v2.0 - - New Rules - See Post #1

6 tons of jailers to handle one crackhead. Is that 1J04 showing up at 1:03 to handle comms?

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Jesus, how many liters of insulin are in that herd's personal lockers?
 
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APOPKA, Fla. – Spike’s Tactical, a national AR-15 parts and weapons manufacturer based near Orlando, Florida, and Pipe Hitters Union, an international apparel manufacturer based in Austin, Texas, were attacked by Newsweek on Monday for an advertisement the companies recently ran in SKILLSET Magazine and posted on Facebook earlier this week.

“Our advertisement, NOT TODAY ANTIFA, is meant to be pro-American and against those who would suppress freedom of speech and the rest of our constitutionally protected rights, including the right to bear arms,” said Kit Cope, spokesman for Spike’s Tactical. “We offer zero apologies to anyone that is offended by this advertisement that depicts armed, but peaceful, patriotic Americans standing up against socialist, anarchist and communist rioters.”

The dual-page ad, which was designed for and is scheduled to run in RECOIL Magazine for the 2018 SHOT Show in Las Vegas, was commissioned as a joint advertisement between Spike’s Tactical and Pipe Hitters Union.

“We had no idea this ad would become so controversial, but let me be very clear about one point – We are not and do not support Nazis or any white supremacist movement in any shape or form,” said Lincoln A. Osiris, president of Pipe Hitters Union. “Every year we do a centerfold ad together with Spike’s Tactical for SHOT Show, and this year, after the rioting in several cities throughout the U.S., we decided to address those who are anti-American, anti-government and anti-democracy in our advertisement. We believe that anyone who supports this great nation, the Constitution and our democratic republic supports our stance.”

I NEED a poster!!
 
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Waylon Weds

Billy Joe Shaver story about Waylon blowin up a bar

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Will Ferrel Free Bird on Conans last Tonight Show,,,,pretty killer,

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If you were following my girl in her Prius, you would be speeding! Her car get's about 16 mpg on the highway, cause she can't get her foot out of the injectors. The best part is the bitching about all the "assholes" in the fast lane in those slow ass trucks. It's hilarious, I'm not sure this is what other Prius drivers are like, but she thinks she gets great mileage. lol
 
If you were following my girl in her Prius, you would be speeding! Her car get's about 16 mpg on the highway, cause she can't get her foot out of the injectors. The best part is the bitching about all the "assholes" in the fast lane in those slow ass trucks. It's hilarious, I'm not sure this is what other Prius drivers are like, but she thinks she gets great mileage. lol

Get her something else. It has been proven that a BMW M3 (444 hp) gets better MPG when driven even remotely aggressive. My F350 gets over 16 (not towing).
 
She buys her own cars, and in the last 43 years, I have learned the secret of a good relationship, is to do what your told, and not have an opinion on anything she chooses to do. The Prius is a fine automobile, well built, reasonable ride, and when she's not driving, up to 55 mpg. Would I buy one............No! But, again after two divorces, I just smile and hope she's happy, I'll just keep my (asshole) opinions to myself, let her drive what she wants.
 
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Good Morning,

Per Kit Cope,

Yes, Stacie. We will be making posters. Tell them to keep an eye on the Spike’s social media or website for the release.

Kit Cope Director of Marketing Spike’s Tactical

Stacie Dimmick Spikes Tactical LLC Law Enforcement & Military Sales FFL/SOT
 
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For the snowflakes and writer at Newsweek that we triggered with massive amounts of butthurt yesterday, here’s a lower we made just for you. The Spike’s Snowflake
2744.png
❄️
.
 
6 tons of jailers to handle one crackhead. Is that 1J04 showing up at 1:03 to handle comms?

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Must have been a couple metric ton 'o cops on that dude.
 
6 tons of jailers to handle one crackhead. Is that 1J04 showing up at 1:03 to handle comms?

<iframe width="640" height="360" src="https://www.liveleak.com/ll_embed?f=6f1c7f8152d9" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Bring the meat! :p. Like a feeding frenzy ain't it? ;). I cannot confirm nor deny ever pulling our own off to get in there and "help". :eek: It's like the poor bastard that brought it on has pockets full of donuts and everybody wants obviously at least 2. lmfao
 
Bring the meat! :p. Like a feeding frenzy ain't it? ;). I cannot confirm nor deny ever pulling our own off to get in there and "help". :eek: It's like the poor bastard that brought it on has pockets full of donuts and everybody wants obviously at least 2. lmfao

Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.

Or there was door number two....

And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.

One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.

Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.

The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.

It was a good night!

Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...

Cheers,

Sirhr
 
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Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.

Or there was door number two....

And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.

One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.

Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.

The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.

It was a good night!

Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...

Cheers,

Sirhr

I'm crying here mon. Very well put. It can be a brutal environment where shit happens fast n hard. There cannot be a more helpless feeling than being a human rag doll being obliterated by large land mammals. Smiling during the 'event' is salt in the wounds. :p.
Spitters? Ya we've been spat on, damn near all of us. You fucking spit, and I believe the stats would show, 100% are getting a coveted Asslt3, and 70% are going to the ER. Weird. :rolleyes:
 
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Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.

Or there was door number two....

And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.

One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.

Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.

The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.

It was a good night!

Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...

Cheers,

Sirhr

I just love a story with a happy ending.
 
Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.

Or there was door number two....

And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.

One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.

Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.

The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.

It was a good night!

Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...

Cheers,

Sirhr

A friend of mine used to be a booking agent at Santa Rita. He told me a story one time about a CHP officer transporting a drunk who started yelling "999" "999" "999" over and over as he was entring the front gates. He said the CHP car came to a screeching halt inside the cage and the officer jumped out, ripped off his vest and duty belt, threw them in the front of the car and ran around to the right rear door and grabbed their new guest by the foot and swung him out of the car and up against the wall with one swoop.

About the time the mutt hit the wall the Welcome Wagon crew came to assist and keep the CHP officer from killing said perp. The Welcome Wagon crew was described to me as 6 guys the size of pro football players that dressed like rejects from the movie Roller Ball. Once they got the officer calmed down they found out the mutt apparently lived in the same area as the officer. He told the officer he knew where he lived, described his house to a tee and proceeded to tell the officer he knew what shifts he worked and was going to spend his spare time fucking the officer's wife and daughter.

Needless to say the Welcome Wagon crew took great exception to his. They hog tied the mutt and while taking him inside accidentally ran him head first into the edge of the big steel door that went into the booking area. In the booking area my friend sat on the opposite side of a thick piece of safety glass while they searched the mutt, removed any personal items and gave them to my friend to inventory. They have two hand prints painted on the glass and two foot prints painted on the floor. They told the mutt to put his hands and feet on the marks and to not move while being searched. While being searched the Welcome Wagon crew was exchanging pleasantries and describing their accommodations to the mutt, all the time they were poised to spring like pitbulls staring at a cat. Apparently the mutt took exception to some of the pleasantries being sent his way and he took his hand off of the glass to flip off one of them, then Welcome Wagon crew did what the Welcome Wagon crew does. My friend said with lightning speed the mutt hit the glass face first and slowly started to slide down, his upper lip stretching over his nose, almost to his eyes as he slid down the glass. My friend said by the time he was half way down the glass all he could see was the inside of his top lip and his top teeth. My friend said he heard the strangest sound while this occurred, it was like a combination of fingernails on a chalk board and the high pitch squeal of air coming out of a balloon.

The mutt was transferred to a "special" holding cell and my friend never saw him again.
 
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I love these stories.
A book needs to be written about this subject.
It would be a great read but unfortunately it might cause problems for the good guys
 
Novels could be written fo sho. But the videos after the fact are money. It's a shame so few will ever enjoy them. Then ya see shit you don't even remember or just how close you got to taking one in the face or nuts. Cray cray.
 
Novels could be written fo sho. But the videos after the fact are money. It's a shame so few will ever enjoy them. Then ya see shit you don't even remember or just how close you got to taking one in the face or nuts. Cray cray.

Just noticed your subliminal message. Here's to you!!

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A friend of mine used to be a booking agent at Santa Rita. He told me a story one time about a CHP officer transporting a drunk who started yelling "999" "999" "999" over and over as he was entring the front gates. He said the CHP car came to a screeching halt inside the cage and the officer jumped out, ripped off his vest and duty belt, threw them in the front of the car and ran around to the right rear door and grabbed their new guest by the foot and swung him out of the car and up against the wall with one swoop.

Hey, I spent four days in Santa Rita jail, in maximum security. This was the old jail, before it was rebuilt. Maybe we crossed paths, but it was 30 years ago...
As a business owner someone tried to steal from me using the legal system. A judge with his head up his ass, liked to push people around, said I was not being cooperative enough in paying the thief. So he sent me to Santa Rita for a long weekend. As I was the only civil prisoner, they had to keep me isolated from the criminals.

I learned a few things, Judges can be assholes and prisoners like to spit in your food. Never trusted judges after that. My attorney said the judge should never have done that, it was way beyond SOP.

 
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Hey, I spent four days in Santa Rita jail, in maximum security. This was the old jail, before it was rebuilt. Maybe we crossed paths, but it was 30 years ago...
As a business owner someone tried to steal from me using the legal system. A judge with his head up his ass, liked to push people around, said I was not being cooperative enough in paying the thief. So he sent me to Santa Rita for a long weekend. As I was the only civil prisoner, they had to keep me isolated from the criminals.

I learned a few things, Judges can be assholes and prisoners like to spit in your food. Never trusted judges after that. My attorney said the judge should never have done that, it was way beyond SOP.

Possibly crossed paths. I have been working my current job for 29 years and it occurred not long before I started this job. I spent considerable time on the shooting range just outside the walls of the "new" prison. I always wondered what the mutts thought when they heard using burning belts through HK21's or mag after mag through MP5's.
 
The stories of belligerent intoxicated folks are all to familiar.
My friend was a medic who joined the airborne at Benning before going to Vietnam in the 60's. He came home and was a paramedic and fire chief and a helluva guy. He worked as a paramedic in the ED until his 70s and could straighten out a drunk on his own better than a group of younger staff. Different set of skills and decades of practice and he was smooth and fast. People would want to jump into help and those who had been there for years would hold them back and say "just watch and learn". He still hunts, fishes, and shoots all the time in his late 70s btw!

Another was a guy who was tazed then brought in for med clearance for jail. LEO was right outside the bathroom door as he was going on his way out the door to jail, upon exit, perp thought it would be good to run. On video, tazer was out and laser on the guys back in three steps, shot in 2 more. I didn't time the splits but dang it was very very fast. Perp did the torpedo dive with his hands to his sides. Then he got to go to jail once he was discharged from the ICU.....

I also "heard" the story of a kid who was partying to hard and got rolled in, tried peeing all over the room and staff. Ended up in 4 point restraints and a diaper laying there. His dad came, used his finger print to unlock the phone, took a picture, and uploaded it to the kids Facebook page with the message of "this is what I look like after partying so hard before the party I didn't even make it in". Of course the dad did this with the door closed and curtain pulled so no staff was the wiser as this was against the rules and frowned upon.....

Carry on gentlemen and have a freaking awesome Friday!
 
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She's wondering who the dumbass is that designed that oversized fuel nozzle.
 
So my little town has become the new Tijuana where people come to party

many nights you see guys peeing on walls, Girls puking next to their cars and leople
screwing by the dumpsters.

A few folks end up in full asshole mode... the challenge today is that no one has ever told them no in their lives.... it seems that the PD does a decent job as these drunken idiots wake up and are now back in their normal mind of a s&p500 sales person, attorney, tech CEO.

The local crime report has about 15 story’s a year of people getting up in the morning and someone is asleep on their sofa or guest bed. It is an out of town drunk who walked into a random house and fell asleep.


Locals dont lock up..... its a fun and strange city.