“model m” blank keycaps
You’d have to either strip the keycaps from your Model M and sand off the lettering from each key top, spray-paint them, or buy a Das Keyboard, which is a Model M clone in black that’s available with blank keys.
(If someone in my old corporate IT team had dared to put a Das Keyboard on his desk to show off what a L337 h4xX0R they are, we would have fucked with that person on general principle. For starters, they’d find their label-less keyboard remapped to a left-handed Icelandic Dvorak layout.)
toy guns being destroyed
The way my kids treat their toys, I have no idea why anyone would spend the time and expense destroying something that will break in a few weeks of regular use anyway.
cocked and locked tomcat
The safety on the Tomcat only blocks the trigger, not the hammer or sear. I wouldn’t carry one with a round in the pipe and the hammer back, safety or no. I always carried mine with the safety off, and the hammer down.
I’m going to guess that’s a term of endearment for Francophones. Quiche is good breakfast/brunch food, especially the killer quiches Robin makes on occasion.
(She had a boyfriend once who asked her if “men were supposed to like quiche”. You’re a sad, blubbering sack of insecurity when you make your dietary choices by their perceived gender-specific reputation. “Oh, no! This tastes good, but I can’t be seen eating it! Quiche is for girls!”)
no such thing as collective right
That’s correct—there’s no such thing as a “collective right”. The term is a fiction employed by people who want to restrict a certain right by making it dependent on group membership. Rights are always individual, and there’s no right you gain by joining a group that you didn’t have already before you joined.
That’s TOL for short, and it’s the biggest ISP in Iran and Saudi-Arabia. There’s no sex, nudity, political discussion, or access to movies or music on TOL. It’s basically a really dumbed-down version of the Internet with all the fun removed, and tedious content controls in place. In other words, it’s just like America Online in the late 1990s.
why can’t i buy a humvee
Because you’re sixteen, you’re living in your parents’ basement, and you’re broke as shit. Also, the Humvee would take up both parking spots in front of the garage, and if you think your Dad will park on the street after springing for the insurance bill on that godawful monster car of yours, you have another thing coming, young man. Get used to the idea of driving that ‘88 Chevette after your sister gets that cute RAV4 as a graduation gift.
There’s no such critter. You’re looking either for the Beretta 92FS, which is the civilian version of the military’s M9, or the Beretta 93R, which is a select-fire machine pistol. The number of legit, transferable 93Rs in the United States is in the single digits, which makes the accessory market for them a bit limited, to say the least.
(Random trivia: Robocop’s sidearm in the movie was a Beretta 93R with a lot of cosmetic add-ons.)
can fisher cats be kept as demestocated
They’re wild animals. Not only are they wild, but the other animals in the forest consider them batshit insane. Only a nutcase would try to tame what’s essentially a scaled-down Wolverine. (On second thought, contact me if you manage to trap one, and you want to give the taming thing a shot. I’ll show up in chain mail, tape the whole thing, and make a zillion bucks off the video, “When Mustelids Attack”.)
3 chiwawas dogs corner bobcat in garage
Let’s run that equation briefly:
This is a bobcat. It stands up to 24 inches tall at the shoulder, and can weigh more than thirty pounds. It can kill game up to the size of a deer. Its main fighting technique is to shred its prey with its razor-sharp claws while biting it in the neck to sever its spine.
This is a Chihuahua. It’s about the size of an anorexic rat. It weighs less than a baseball, and can be thrown or kicked into the next area code by anyone stronger than a toddler. It’s high-strung, and generally not known to reliably bring down anything bigger than a cockroach. Its main fighting technique is to annoy its prey to death with its piercing yip.
I don’t know about you, but my money is on the super-sized fucking wildcat that can kill a deer.
That’s it for this Monday morning, folks. You may now safely resume your regular Monday activities!