pappyld04

I was checking up on us every now and again. I must say that message was getting irritating though ROB! lol!!!

I know I've seen that user name somewhere before whether it was you or not, IDK. Welcome to the forum!

That simplicity eludes the so-called educated bunch as well!

Oh, to be a fly on your wall!

They would have been better off buying the supplies and delivering them to the schools!

I'm guessing you live near the Red River tj! Welcome to the board!

All of these weasels you speak of should have been fired and prosecuted for embezzlement!

Since the weather is so damned hot, fill them with water and freeze for a cool treat!

Naked girls plow fields for rain Thu Jul 23, 2009 4:35pm EDT PATNA, India (Reuters) - Farmers in an eastern Indian state have asked their unmarried daughters to plow parched fields naked in a bid to embarrass the weather gods to bring some badly needed monsoon rain, officials said on Thursday.Witnesses said the naked girls in Bihar state plowed the fields and chanted ancient hymns after sunset to invoke the gods. They said elderly village women helped the girls drag the plows. "They (villagers) believe their acts would get the weather gods badly embarrassed, who in turn would ensure bumper crops by sending rains," Upendra Kumar, a village council official, said from Bihar's remote Banke Bazaar town. "This is the most trusted social custom in the area and the villagers have vowed to continue this practice until it rains very heavily." India this year suffered its worst start to the vital monsoon rains in eight decades, causing drought in some states. (Writing by Bappa Majumdar Editing by Sugita Katyal)

Chinese survey finds Published: 1:52PM BST 04 Aug 2009 The online survey of 3,376 Chinese showed that 7.9 per cent of respondents considered sex workers trustworthy Photo: PA The online survey of 3,376 Chinese showed that 7.9 per cent of respondents considered sex workers trustworthy, putting them in third place after farmers and religious workers, the Insight China magazine said on its website. "A list like this is at the same time surprising and embarrassing," said an editorial in the China Daily English-language newspaper. "The sex workers' unexpected prominence on this list of honour... is indeed unusual." The newspaper said the list, based on a survey carried out in June and July, showed scientists and teachers ranked "way below, and that government functionaries, too, scored hardly better". Soldiers and students were ranked after sex workers on the list of trustworthy professions, according to Insight China. But the state-linked China Daily found reason for celebration. "Given the constant feed of scandals involving the country's elite, this is not bad at all," the editorial commented. "At least (the scientists and officials) have not slid into the least credible category, which consists of real estate developers, secretaries, agents, entertainers and directors."

Been there, done that. Come up North a tad where the humidity changes and really fucks with you! I heard ticks popping underground!

Sorry TC, they refuse to release it for us perv's!

You owe me a keyboard and monitor for that one chick! lol! I'll let you know if I had to go to the ER for falling out of my chair!

Here is what I find difficult to believe!

We'll see about that! lol!!!

If he says not he is a FUCKING FOOL! You look yummy in red and black! And so spankable!

With the money, effort, and time spent I think he is in the right baby girl! I would not risk it either!

He is trying to do what I told you to do with him a while back! Love the shoes!

I am in no way, shape or form connected to this profession, but this guy is a RIOT! http://ambulancedriverfiles.blogspot.com/

That's why most GPS units have female voices!

<H2 class=date-header> ...alternatively titled, "How Your Myocardium Gets Its Swerve On." When I teach, I'm always looking for new ways to make the material meaningful to my students. I can gauge an audience fairly well, and I adapt my presentation accordingly. I can be dry and reserved (although I don't like to be) and fill my presentations with as much technospeak as the audience can stomach. Complexity is not a problem. Oddly enough, some groups actually like that shit. However, I'd much prefer to take a rather complex subject and break it down into terms my audience can not only understand, but laugh at. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Learning is best accomplished between fits of laughter. If I'm teaching cardiovascular hemodynamics to a bunch of firefighters, I talk in terms of pumps and hoses, flow rates and closed systems. If I'm explaining heart healthy living to a mechanic, I'll do it in terms of engines and the importance of using good fuel and routine maintenance. If need be, I can blather on at length about ion pumps, membrane thresholds, and the propagation of action potentials along conduction pathways. And a few people actually appreciate that. Their enjoyment of the lesson, however, is significantly lessened by the snores of everyone else in the room. So, being the shameless approval whore that I am, I play to the crowd. I seek to educate and entertain, and invariably that mean couching my lesson in terms to which anyone can relate. Like sex. If I have learned anything about emergency medical providers in thirteen years of teaching, it is this: 1. If you put two firefighters alone in a room with two steel ball bearings, in fifteen minutes one ball bearing will be broken and the other missing, and neither firefighter will have any idea of how it happened. 2. Firefighter medics are suckers for softcore cardiology porn. 3. Female ER nurses are even raunchier than the firefighter medics. 4. Seventy-five percent of the ER nurses and medics, even after years of experience, still struggle understanding AV blocks. So without further ado, I give you Ambulance Driver's Tale of The Marital Spat: Sidney Sinus Node and Virginia Ventricle were a happily married couple. Sidney worked hard every day, Virginia stayed home and took care of the household. At the end of each work day, Sidney rushed home on the cardiac conduction freeway, past the AV node turnpike, came to a screeching halt in the driveway, rushed through the door and, well, depolarized Virginia, if you know what I mean (wink wink, nudge nudge). One might even say they had a Normal Sinus Rhythm kind of relationship. Some times, depending on Virginia's willingness to wear a little something slinky and Sidney's libido, it might even qualify as a sinus tachycardia kind of relationship. Like all things however, relationships cool. It's not that Sidney doesn't appreciate Virginia, not at all. It's not that he doesn't still find Virginia attractive, either. It's just all these bills and all this stuff, and well, someone has to bring home a paycheck, right? So Sidney throws himself into his work and puts in longer hours, but being a somewhat steady and reliable, if altogether predictable husband, still comes home every night and depolarizes Virginia, just like he used to when they were newlyweds. And Virginia appreciates it, she really does. She knows how hard Sidney works. It's just that he comes home late every night, and he seems so tired, and their depolarizations lately have become well, predictable. On the surface, nothing much has changed. Sidney still comes home every night like he used to. He just comes home late. But Virginia knows there is something missing. There's no spontaneity any more, even when she meets him at the door naked and slathered in conductive gel. Their relationship has degraded into a First Degree Block kind of relationship, and Virginia just wants the spice back in her marriage. She's even been considering doing a little self-depolarization, you know, because she has needs too, but the kids are getting to be that age, and she's afraid they'd recognize those PVCs emanating from the bedroom. Meanwhile, Sidney, being like most men, is not the most attuned to Virginia's needs. All he sees is the mounting bills and the mortgage payment and college tuition and the inordinate amount of D batteries Virginia seems to be going through and I mean, really, does she have any idea how much those damned things cost??? So he works even longer hours, and still the work piles up. Mondays aren't so bad, but the work piles up as the week progresses, until by the time Friday rolls around, he's so overwhelmed he just sleeps over at the office in a vain attempt to get caught up. Every day of the week, he comes home a little later, until finally he doesn't come home at all. Virginia, as you might expect, has become accustomed to regular, if slightly boring, depolarization. When she doesn't get it, she gets bitchy. So you can bet your ass that the very next night, Sidney drags his ass home on time. But men don't get the easy lessons, so you can also be assured that this cycle will repeat itself. This Second Degree Type I Block kind of relationship is evidence of some serious cracks in this marriage. Pretty soon, despite all signals from Virginia that she ain't happy, Sidney has convinced himself that he is indeed the master of this relationship. He wears the pants. He's got a toupee, he's wearing the Mister T starter kit, he's driving a red Miata, and he's got a pneumatic little twenty-year-old secretary named Wendy Wenckebach who giggles at all his lame-assed jokes and says things like "Ooooh Mr. Sinus, you are so cute! I just adore older men. They're so...experienced." So Sidney develops the disquieting habit of just not coming home on some nights, totally without warning. He doesn't call, he doesn't text, nothing. He just stays gone all night long, while Virginia stays home alone and cries herself to sleep. Who knows what he's doing on those nights? Certainly not Virginia. Sidney always has an explanation, and he doesn't do it all the time. Not at first, that is. And on the nights he does come home, he's always on time and bearing flowers. But eventually, he goes from an intermittent Second Degree Type II Block to a fairly regular one. After a while, it's gotten so bad that he's gone every other night, and the other night while he was depolarizing Virginia, he called her Wendy, that fucking tart! I think we can all see where this is heading. Virginia is still a young woman, she's got lots of young male admirers, and she doesn't have to live her life like this. So one day, Sidney comes home to discover that the locks have been changed and all of his shit is laying out there on the front yard. Taped to his golf bag is Virginia's official petition for AV Dissociation. Yep, it's come to that. Divorce. Splitsville. Third Degree Block. Sidney can do his own thing if he wants, but he's just kidding himself if he thinks he has anything to do with Virginia any more. She has somebody else to depolarize her from now on, thank you very much. The sad thing is, Virginia has options, but Sidney doesn't. He doesn't even have Wendy any more. It turns out she was only attracted to him when he was attached, and having a needy old man around all the time just isn't her idea of a good time. And so Sidney comes to the bitter realization that he and the rest of his atrial impulses don't even matter that much in the greater scheme of things. Women like Virginia can do just fine without him. So he winds up reduced to a bitter old divorced man who drives by Virginia's house every day and wonders who is depolarizing his wife these days. He hears rumors, of course. A mutual friend told him that Virginia had taken up with Jimmy Junction, the hunky pool boy. Jimmy is young and vigorous, so he can depolarize fairly often, but being young, he can't depolarize for very long, even though the frequent depolarization seems to agree with Virginia. With Jimmy, her QRS complexes are as narrow as they were in her twenties, back when they first married. Sidney isn't quite convinced, though. Last week he saw Pete Purkinje's van parked in front of the house. Pete's an old man, and not all that stable, and he can't depolarize very often. Of course, old men usually take a very long time to depolarize, and Virginia's QRS complexes are starting to look a little wide in the hips, if you know what I mean. Virginia is starting to look her age. Hell, even Viagra atropine doesn't work much on men like Pete Purkinje. He just doesn't have the nerves for it. Never did, really. Sidney, the petty bastard, finds it mildly comforting to think of Virginia relying on tired old Pete Purkinje for her depolarization these days. Serves the bitch right. If he had his way, none of the men in the neighborhood would have anything to do with Virginia, and she'd have to really solely on battery-operated mechanical depolarization to fulfill her needs. That's where I come in, of course. I'm a stud that way.

July 08, 2009 • 11:49 am <H5 style="TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize">By Diana Fasanella</H5> The world at her feet A Russian woman has grabbed the title for the World’s Strongest Vagina and set a new world record by lifting a 33 pound glass ball with the muscles in her private parts. Tatiata Kozheynikova told Life.ru that she has been training for the title in the Guinness Book of Records for 15 years and was declared the winner yesterday, the Examiner reports. The 42-year-old woman used a custom-made glass ball attached to a second ball with a string that was placed inside her and lifted with her intimate muscles. The Novosibirsk resident said that she first got interested in training to strengthen her vagina after childbearing had left her muscles weak. She added that just 5 minutes a day of vaginal exercise is enough to “tone your health and sexual life.” But, can she bench press with her bosoms?

Another cop who just missed him! Wednesday, October 22, 2008 My Almost Near (Sorta) Brush With SumDood Something that happened a short while back in Murphyland... *brrrring... brrrrring....* Big City Emergency Services, what is your name? Uh... Murphy. (I was expecting the 'PD, Fire, or EMS question'.) Ok Sir, do you need Police, Fire, or EMS? (bingo.) Police, ma'am. Allrighty Sir, and what do you need to report tonight? Gun shots down the street at what looks like... the Peaceful Meadows Apartments Complex, ma'am. Another interesting evening, indeed. Every city has areas that are... well, not the best. Generally, I make it a personal rule to avoid said areas, but on occasion you just can't because, well, they come to you, wherever you happen to be. Before I get too much further, I should mention that no, I wasn't in any immediate danger (hence me taking time to call 911), but gun shots is something that I heard somewhere that law enforcement types might be kind of interested in hearing about. Conversation went fairly quick after that, I told the lady that there had been gun shots in the apartment complex down the street - no, I wasn't involved, just in the vicinity, minding my own business and - nope, didn't actually see Sumdood fighting or running about, shooting or afterwards, running away. I suppose I coulda offered to help look around, but she probably would've strongly discouraged that and besides, I hear that Sumdood's an elusive and sneaky li'l bugger. She confirmed stuff like safety, names (mine, the roads, and apartment complex) and locations (of same), and promised that the local PD would be along shortly. Po-po, ho! About 30 seconds after hanging up and re-examining the area, I got an incoming call. 'Iiif you think I'm sexy, aaand you want my-' 'Lo? (I really should change that ring tone...) Yeah, I'm calling in regards to the shots fired report. [male voice, PD radio and vehicle engine sounds in background] Yessir? Well, I'm en route to your location, and I want to know... where's the gun? (I really didn't like the sound of this because the thought had occurred to me that technically, I was 'a man with a gun'. Hmm, how do I respond to the Officer... 'the one on my hip or the one that's been shoot-' no, that's like begging for additional rapid orifice creation, and I don't want any of that...) No idea Sir, I'm just in the area, see and- You sure it's not just you what been poppin' off a few rounds? (What the Hell? Visions of some dispatcher fumble-fingering my name into the 'shooter' line instead of 'reporting party' whilst sucking down the last Dr Pepper flavored ice-cube (mmm, delicious) were definitely flying through my brain housing group right about then...) Uhhh... Listen buddy, I know you always got a gun, and I- It was about at this point where he lost control of his 'cop voice' and started to chuckle. J? Yeah man *chortle* what's going on? I saw your name when the call dropped so I thought I'd give you a holler and see if'n you were ok and give you some shit... whassup, bro? Dude... Ok, I admit it, you had me going there, but still, choke on a bacon-flavored donut, m'kay? *laughter* Cop buddies, sheesh.

This guy is everywhere! I found this in LawDog's pages! Thursday, May 31, 2007 I bow before AD... ... for he has actually been in the presence of Sumdood. I have chased that smarmy little bugger for the last 14 years -- and have yet to lay eyes on him. The list and tally of his nefarious crimes is long indeed, and AD and others have mentioned some of his most infamous activities, but they have neglected to mention Sumdood's most cunning act of evil: He owns a clothing factory. Yes. It is true. When he gets gets bored, Sumdood will go down to the warehouse and he will pick an article of clothing -- usually pants, but sometimes a shirt -- then he will go to his lair deep below the basement of the IRS office and he will pick one of his collection of stolen guns -- or maybe a quantity of unlawful recreational pharmaceuticals -- and he will place this inside one of the pockets. Once this is done, Sumdood will choose a random address from the phone book, go to this residence inhabited solely by the most devout missionaries, and he will leave this article of clothing on the floor, where one of these goodly people will pick it up and wear it into the street, unaware that Sumdood is following them. And then, then the true depths of Sumdood's vileness is revealed -- for when our guileless innocent passes within proper distance of a Minion of the Law, Sumdood will cause the attention of that Minion to become fixed upon our puir, wee lambikins, out doing God's work. "What's this?", inquires said Minion, bringing forth into the light a ziploc baggie containing about three ounces of a pale yellow, crystalline substance. "Man, these aren't my pants!" "Whose pants are they, then?" "Sumdood's!" Genius. Sheer genius. And it's not just clothing, either. Reno informs me that just last month it was discovered that Sumdood has branched out into the used car business -- and is using them in drive-by shootings before foisting them off onto his unsuspecting victims. Can you imagine the shock of the poor, unwitting pigeons upon learning that not five minutes earlier, Sumdood was shooting up a neighborhood from the passenger window of the car -- the very car! -- that they are now driving? He must be stopped. LawDog

Watch out folks! There is an Oriental copycat out here too! AD- I need you to pay close attention as you may be the ONLY person who has seen Sumdood up close enough and lived to tell abut it. But there is an ORIENTAL VERSION!!! OH Yes my friend- you'd better quiver---he had his way with my wife and I asked her his name and it sent chills up and down my spine- Seems we are also dealing with an Asian- SUM YUNG GAI! Be careful- he can't drive for shit and smells faintly of MSG and cabbage! We think he is a carrier pidgeon of the Bird Flu! Wear PPE!!! Gotcer back-