Monday, January 25, 2016

The Thigh Bone Connected to the

As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.

I was considering all the lament about the Saudi's knocking off a few pound of Muslim head. The way I figure it, with 1 billion Muslims, they are not going to miss them, and that will be at least 47 that will not be showing up in America or Europe to rape blondes or shoot liberals.

I really do not on a medical scale see all the bother about state initiated head lopping. I mean no one says BOO in America when hundreds of Americans seem to hang themselves in prison each year, in the police state covering up their crimes. Just because it does not make the papers, does not mean they are not just as larger numbers. At least in Arabia, they take credit for killing those in custody instead of hiding it all.

It all just makes me wonder how tame these Islamists are. I mean they torture and kill effectively, but I see none of the real advantage of it all, as it is like the modern homosapien just gives up if given one lump in their coffee, instead of two.
What kind of race is the world if holding back on the sweets, collapses their will, or Muslims killing Muslims is horrid, when Obama killed like 400,000 of the buggers. Saudi Muslims must be worth more and Obama Muslims must be the cheap kind, like picking up diet Coke no one wants on sale.

Some people wonder how I know things. I have no idea sometimes in how I know things. It is like......

Well it is like, we are sitting in a holding cell, with some ........make it two individuals duct tape to the wooden chairs. I always prefer duct tape as it gives, and ropes or metal cuffs cut into the terrorists or whatever.
So you got them on wood chairs....oak, as one does not want them to be too comfortable, and for some reason oak just bites the buttocks as interrogations take time.

So it is like, you are talking to the terrorists in their native tongue, without English signs in the background as CNN is never there to record these events.

So you say something like, "Ok what oh there terrorist, tell me all your terror secrets".

They always pretend they do not know their own language, so you tell them, "Ok what oh there terrorist, which leg do you want it to be?"
One always gives them a bunty choice in such things, as making a terrorist choose their leg, puts the blame on them.......confusing what oh?

Not really, so pull out this sharp knife, or scissor, or something. I find small scalpels are best, as if you pull out the big knife and only cut the pant legs off, they mock you in thinking you are just another white girl who just likes posting bra pix on the net.

So you cut the leg off, sort of sexy and smile at them, then tell them, "Ok what oh terrorist, I am not going to ask you another question about terror things, until I am beating you to death with your own leg bone."
I find that using medical terms like femur confuses the questionee, so it is best to just keep it simple.

So you get out your tourniquet and put it on above the leg. Do not waste a great deal of chit chat in this, and just duct tape the ankle to the chair leg, and cut the knee bone joint, loosening the knee cap.

One prefers rubber gloves for this not latex.

One probably has their attention by this time. Probably a bit of scream and profanity, along with shock that white girls can do more than use microwaves. Not much point in microwaves, as one has to cut a hole in the side, insert things and let them cook the parts while attached. The astute white girl just rips a microwave apart and makes a  portable application, but cooked meat sort of takes away the pleasure of beef stake later.

So you pull out your long handled pruning sheers, and slip it between the joint and just liberate it from the bottom bone. Please do not sever the leg, as one must keep things less hemoglobin, and one must provide the terrorist the hope that this is something they will survive.

So you ........well probably not you, as this is sort of a homemade thing, like something that cuts the corn off the cobb. Think of it like a spokeshave, but then you would not be a wheelwright to understand that part, but it really takes longer to explain in than fit it on the femur, give it a shove, and you would be surprised at how this males testicles will forever be sucked up into their pelvis and they will never have an erection over you again.

So the meat is from the bone, the femur that is, tendons attached to the muscles, and you just pull it out, and give the subject time to have their brain suck up all those yummy brain chems trying to keep them from feeling pain.

One does not want to give them too much time to get the second wind, so one just slices to the hip bone, and if you have earned your wage, you pull the bone at the end, and it pops out like.........a bone popping out of leg.

One realizes the drama in this has reached an appex at this juncture, so one just pops the other subject on the head, and mention something about what an expert you are with testicle removal and beating subjects to death with them.

One should twist the first subject's nose hard at this point to get them to focus. If they have been confessing to things, it is best to just file them away and pretend they are still not telling you things.

One should probably promise to put the leg bone back if they promise to answer questions.

In the meantime, haul the second subject behind subject one, and beat him with the femur, for a few minutes, with a sharp rap behind the ear to knock them out, and then announce that you have beaten subject two to death.

If subject one still is reluctant, one can repeat performance, and then announce the testicles will not be replaced.

Before all of this barbarity, more information is flowing as than you ever cared to collect, as the education has been performed that they are in an adult world, and their terror taunts are child's play.

Most inexperienced in this procedure would slip off the bone in pulling it out. The procedure is dry gloves, twist and pull.

Odd how the butcher at the shop, deboning chicken legs knows all of this stuff, and no one cares, but I suppose the butcher does not beat the chicken to death with it's own bone.