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Farm Pics - Mostly for DSS ^.^


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DSS has apparently never seen a farm, so he wanted to see some pics of mine (not mine; I don't live there, it belongs to my cousins). And I thought I'd just post them for some other people to see, too. Here's a few.

I lightened them up on my pic program, yet for some reason when I posted them they came out all dark again. :/ I hope you can see them okay.

 

A wheel

Same wheel, different angle. :)

Kitty on a log! A_A Mew!

Kitties ina bucket

Red Truck.

Puppy in another truck.

Hay bails against the darkening sky...

Et cetera

Er, that's me holding a cat, no laughter please, I'm really wind-blown, and that jacket's way too fat and bulky. ¬_¬

Horse

 

I guess that's all. But I got way more from today I can post later. From my friend's farm, we were being fuel runners, and got totally sprayed with diesel. ¬_¬ Mmm, Vin Diesel. My clothes are in the wash right now.

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bah round bales are terrible. they rot in teh middle and such. small rectangular bales are where it's at, except for the the damnable lifting of them that must be done to get them from wagon-->loft. plus they're easier to sell ;)

 

one of my earliest memories is getting stabbed in teh leg with a pitchfork (i fell on it, no attempted homicide) after i tripped over, uh, the, I don't think it has a name, but it's like a trough with a conveyor belt in it that is in the floor of a barn that is used to carry manure away from teh source and into the spreader.

 

pennsylvania: dairy farms and steel mills as far as the eye can see.

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Nothing beats country living. My kitties are fascinated by the goats and cow that live next door...they were raised in the city and have never seen dogs that big. :D

 

Wow, Guildy's cute in reality, too. ;) The wind-tossed look definitely works for her.

 

My opinion on the matter of baling: never mind the commercial demands of machine baling and loading...it's my opinion that mankind should return to a more agrarian way of life, and revisit some of the older ways that we had when we were living closer to the land. Hay should be baled in stalks, by hand (teenagers on the farm being especially suited for this), and arranged artfully about the homestead until it is needed as feed. Only capitalist stoogies belch diesel fumes into the tortured sky as their heartless rusting industrial land-rapist machine mows down every living thing within its reach, winds it with cheap wire and spits it out behind like so much of mother nature's bounty reduced to its elemental components in cube form.

 

Besides, hay is better suited for *loft recreational activities.* :)

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Loft Rec. was my favorite class in high school. :D And those square bales are fun to launch. I spend most of my summers at my friend's farm, cause it's huge and owns for paintball, and generally help out when I can. Good for upper body strength.

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Originally posted by Zoom Rabbit

Besides, hay is better suited for *loft recreational activities.* :)

 

I've never understood this. Hay is one of the least comfortable things to lay down on, not to mention the long, deep, and horribly painful scratches it leaves.

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I am most dangerous indeed, so you'd best watch your backs... ¬_¬

 

Here's some of my mugshots:

san_sm1.JPGsan_sm2.JPG

 

ph33r me.

 

Danm stupid Snack Mix! I bought some of that snack mix that has the Doritos, Sunchips, Cheesies, and Pretzels in it, and now all that's left in the bottom of the bag are a few crumbs of the good stuff and about 200 pretzels. Stupid pretzels. ¬_¬ It's so hard to eat around the dang things.

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I bought a big tub of gumdrops last month. I ate the lime ones first, then the orange, and finally the cherry gumdrops; the cherry ones I ate last, because cherry flavor can be an act of faith (if they get it wrong, they taste like coughdrops)...but they were surprisingly cherryish. Now I have about a hundred lemon gumdrops sitting in the cupboard, taking up space. Who eats lemon gumdrops? :rolleyes: Maybe I'll see if I can use them for instant lemon tea capsules the next time I get sick, but otherwise they were a waste of money.

 

Anyone remember X-Wing Vs. TIE Fighter? Well, here I reveal my continuing lack of updated gaming capability, but in XvT they use a variety of voices for your wingman's radio communications. Sometimes they give you a female wingperson (which I like for hippy liberal social reasons), and for some reason I've always imagined that she was Lujayne/Guildenstern. :)

 

So, Guildy...thanks for covering my six all these years. Sorry about that time I told you to take on Wraith Squadron by yourself while I did the booty-scoot blind CMD heavy rocket run on the star destroyer Hammer. At least it worked, and we're here to laugh about it, right?

 

*(Looks around at everyone.)* What? :D

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*WARNING: The following may be too intense for small children, and most politically correct fanatics. if you are easily offended, do not read.

 

otherwise, enjoy.

 

HARTMAN

 

I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your Senior

Drill Instructor. From now on, you will speak

 

only when spoken to, and the first and last

words out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir!"

Do you maggots understand that?

 

 

RECRUITS

(in unison)

 

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! I can't hear you. Sound off like you

got a pair.

 

RECRUITS

(louder)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

If you ladies leave my island, if you survive

recruit training ... you will be a weapon, you

will be a minister of death, praying for war.

But until that day you are pukes! You're the

lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even

human ****ing beings!

You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian ****!

Because I am hard, you will not like me. But

the moreyou hate me, the more you will

learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no

racial bigotry here! I do not look down on

niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you

are all equally worthless! And my orders are

to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack

the gear to serve in my beloved Corps! Do

you maggots understand that?

 

 

RECRUITS

(in unison)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! I can't hear you!

 

RECRUITS

 

(louder)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

Sergeant HARTMAN stops in front of a black recruit,

Private SNOWBALL.

 

HARTMAN

What's your name, scumbag?

 

SNOWBALL

(shouting)

Sir, Private Brown, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! From now on you're Private

Snowball! Do you like that name?

 

 

SNOWBALL

(shouting)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

HARTMAN

 

Well, there's one thing that you won't like,

Private Snowball! They don't serve fried

chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in

my mess hall!

 

SNOWBALL

Sir, yes, sir!

 

JOKER

 

(whispering)

Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?

 

 

HARTMAN

 

Who said that? Who the **** said that? Who's

the slimy little communist **** twinkle-toed

cocksucker down here, who just signed his

own death warrant? Nobody, huh?! The fairy

****ing godmother said it! Out-****ing-

standing! I will P.T. you all until you ****ing

die! I'll P.T. you until your *******s are

sucking buttermilk.

 

Sergeant HARTMAN grabs cowboy by the shirt.

 

 

HARTMAN

Was it you, you scroungy little ****, huh?!

 

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

You little piece of ****! You look like a ****ing

worm! I'll bet it was you!

 

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir!

 

JOKER

Sir, I said it, sir!

 

Sergeant HARTMAN steps up to JOKER.

 

HARTMAN

Well ...no ****. What have we got here, a

****ing comedian? Private Joker? I admire

your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come

over to my house and **** my sister.

 

Sergeant HARTMAN purnches JOKER in the

stomach. JOKER sags to his knees.

 

HARTMAN

You little scumbag! I've got your name! I've

got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not

cry! You will learn by the numbers. I will

teach you. Now get up! Get on your feet! You

had best un**** yourself or I will unscrew

your head and **** down your neck!

 

JOKER

 

Sir, yes, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Private Joker, why did you join my beloved

Corps?

 

JOKER

Sir, to kill, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

So you're a killer!

 

JOKER

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Let me see your war face!

 

JOKER

Sir?

 

 

HARTMAN

You've got a war face? Aaaaaaaagh! That's a

war face. Now let me see your war face!

 

JOKER

Aaaaaaaagh!

 

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! You didn't convince me! Let me see

your real war face!

 

JOKER

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

 

 

HARTMAN

You didn't scare me! Work on it!

 

JOKER

 

Sir, yes, sir!

 

Sergeant HARTMAN speaks into cowboy's face.

 

 

HARTMAN

What's your excuse?

 

COWBOY

Sir, excuse for what, sir?

 

HARTMAN

I'm asking the ****ing questions here,

Private. Do you understand?!

 

COWBOY

Sir, yes, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Well thank you very much! Can I be in charge

for a while?

 

COWBOY

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Are you shook up? Are you nervous?

 

COWBOY

 

Sir, I am, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Do I make you nervous?

 

 

COWBOY

Sir!

 

HARTMAN

Sir, what? Were you about to call me an

*******?!

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

How tall are you, Private?

 

COWBOY

Sir, five foot nine, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Five foot nine? I didn't know they stacked ****

that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in on

me somewhere, huh?

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir.

 

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! It looks to me like the best part of

you ran down the crack of your mama's ass

and ended up as a brown stain on the

mattress! I think you've been cheated!

 

HARTMAN

 

Where in hell are you from anyway, Private?

 

COWBOY

 

Sir, Texas, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Holy dog****! Texas! Only steers and ******

come from Texas, Private Cowboy! And you

don't look much like a steer to me, so that

kinda narrows it down! Do you suck dicks!

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Are you a peter-puffer?

 

COWBOY

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

I'll bet you're the kind of guy that would ****

a person in the ass and not even have the

goddam common courtesy to give him a reach-

around! I'll be watching you!

 

 

Sergeant HARTMAN walks down the line to another

recruit, a tall, overtweight boy.

 

HARTMAN

Did your parents have any children that lived?

 

PYLE

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

I'll bet they regret that! You're so ugly you

could be a modern art masterpiece! What's

your name, fatbody?

 

 

PYLE

Sir, Leonard Lawrence, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Lawrence? Lawrence, what, of Arabia?

 

PYLE

Sir, no, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

That name sounds like royalty! Are you

royalty?

 

 

PYLE

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Do you suck dicks?

 

 

PYLE

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! I'll bet you could suck a golf ball

through a garden hose!

 

PYLE

 

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

I don't like the name Lawrence! Only *******

and sailors are called Lawrence! From now on

you're Gomer Pyle!

 

PYLE

Sir, yes, sir!

 

PYLE has the trace of a strange smile on his face.

 

HARTMAN

Do you think I'm cute, Private Pyle? Do you

think I'm funny?

 

 

PYLE

Sir, no, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face!

 

PYLE

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Well, any ****ing time, sweetheart!

 

PYLE

 

Sir, I'm trying, sir.

 

HARTMAN

Private Pyle, I'm gonna give you three

seconds--excactly three ****ing seconds--to

wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or

I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-****

you! One! Two! Three!

 

PYLE purses his

lips but continues to smile involuntarily.

 

PYLE

Sir, I can't help it, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! Get on your knees, scumbag!

 

PYLE gets down on his knees.

 

HARTMAN

 

Now choke yourself!

 

PYLE places his hands around his throat as if to choke himself.

 

HARTMAN

Goddamn it, with my hand, numbnuts!!

 

PYLE reaches for HARTMAN's hand. HARTMAN jerks

it away.

 

 

HARTMAN

Don't pull my ****ing hand over there! I said

choke yourself! Now lean forward and choke

yourself!

 

PYLE leans forward so that his neck rests in

HARTMAN's open hand.

 

HARTMAN chokes PYLE.

 

 

PYLE gags and starts to turn red in the face.

 

HARTMAN

 

Are you through grinning?

 

PYLE

(barely able to speak)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! I can't hear you!

 

PYLE

(gasping)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

Bull****! I still can't hear you! Sound offlike

you got a pair!

 

PYLE

(gagging)

Sir, yes, sir!

 

 

HARTMAN

That's enough! Get on your feet!

 

HARTMAN releases PYLE's throat. PYLE gets to his feet,

breathing heavily.

 

HARTMAN

 

Private Pyle, you had best square your ass

away and start ****ting me Tiffany cuff links

... or I will definitely **** you up!

 

 

PYLE

Sir, yes, sir!

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