Shooting at Florida high school

Indeed. When I bought my Magnum P.I., it had a Birkenstock 10-10-220 long distance range rover, and a compass in the stock.

I'm guessing these are brands other than Colt.

Show-off.

Well I was in Special Forces, and I don't mean special like Special K, but regular Special Forces.

In elementary school, they told me I was special.

Sorry, I was agreeing with you: banning specific classes of guns isn't effective.

If you think law enforcement officers shouldn't carry, I might go along with that (that wasn't my point) but you'd have to make a sound argument for this.

I remember when they stationed me in Xiaolongbao. I was on special assignment to save the King of Rock and Roll himself, Elvis Presley. He was being imprisoned in a cave outside of town. My mission was simple: infiltrate the town, posing as a merchant from Dangzou province, make good with the locals, and then find someone working in security, take their ID, and break into the cave stronghold. So there I was, selling mangoes to a Chinaman and making eyes at the shopkeep's lovely daughter, Mei Wangtese. We'd been in a torrid love affair for some time, and were to be wed by the local sheep herder, who also ran the Buddhist temple on the other side of town, next to the Safeway. I promised her good luck and fortune in life, and she promised I could touch her boobs. It was kismet.

Anyway, this Chinaman seemed awfully suspicious to me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about him felt wrong. Maybe it was that he paid me in Swiss francs, or how he pronounced his 'r's, but something was definitely wrong. When I handed him back his American Express card, I noticed the watch on his wrist had its numbers written in English instead of Chinese, and I knew his presence in town wasn't kosher. So once I saw he excused himself to go to the restroom, I snuck in behind him, karate chopped him on the back of the ass, and took his wallet. Inside I found a membership for the NRA, two unused Skyline Chili rewards cards, with the holes punched out, and a "Federal Breast Inspector" acronym ID card, but that wasn't going to do. Searching his pants pockets, his shirt pockets, and his underwear without finding exactly what I was looking for, I was about to give up when I noticed there was a seam running along one side of his hair. Pulling gently, the man screamed loudly as it turns out that was just his hairline, and I'd managed to wake him up. Punching him in the face with my own mouth, I demanded he tell me who he was, and where his ID could be located. He spoke in some kind of foreign language I didn't understand. It was like American, but if you were shocking someone in the balls while they were trying to speak it. Frustrated, I shoved his head into a urinal, and dispatched him by forcing him to lick the urinal cake at the bottom. He died instantly.

As I stepped back, I saw that one of his shoes had come off his foot, and right inside the heel was his ID card. Bingo.

Later that night, I made my way out of town hitchhiking on the back of a Ford Torino, until I could approach the entrance to the cave system. There, standing out front, was a sentry llama. I mean, it looked like a llama, but it was more than likely a security guard dressed as an inconspicuous llama. I wasn't so easily fooled, however, and pulled my Magnum P.I. from my back pocket. Easing in closer to the entrance, I mimicked the mating call of an Asian Crested Ibis, or just Crested Ibis if you lived in Asia, and waited. Sure enough, a flock of endangered Ibii soared down from the heavens. Due to my hiding spot being so well hidden, they didn't see me, but they did see the sentry llama, and must have mistaken it for a female Ibis with a glandular problem. It was fortunate for me that monsoon season had passed, and the birds had not yet migrated to the north pole, as they were in heat, and immediately set upon the llama, who ran away braying so convincingly, I almost believed it was a real llama. The coast was clear.

I sneaked inside, following the cave system downward into a maze of tunnels. I looked down at the compass on the Birkenstock of my Magnum P.I., and realized that it was dark. This presented a problem, as I had never been trained to see in pitch blackness. All of my classes had been given during the day, the shortsighted bastards, and so now, thanks to the inefficiencies of our military, Praise Be Unto Them, I was up pit creek without a saddle. I had no choice but fall back on my Navy Seal training, and began making clicking noises, as a form of echolocation. I was fortunate in that it seemed there was plenty of places underground for sound to bounce off of, and after three hours of effort, I found my way into the ante-chamber, where there sat a single floor lamp, a Mad magazine, and the King himself bound to a wicker chair, gagged and unable to move. He saw me, and I motioned to him to remain quiet, by making a brushing motion under my chin with three fingers. He got the message.

Now, with less time, I took off my sunglasses, creeped over to his location, and began working to loosen his bonds. No sooner had I removed the bungee cord from around his legs, several angry men burst into the room. Firing my Magnum P.I. at their leader, or who I assumed was their leader based upon the size of the ascot he wore, I helped the King to his feet, only to find he couldn't walk! Taking another shot at the enemy, I put him on my back, and fled the cave, hauling him up each step in a fireman's carry. We made it out right as the NAFTA helicopters arrived.

Unfortunately, as I was stepping onto the craft, my hand scratched a rusty bolt. Two days later, I died of an infection. Everyone mourned me except the shopkeep, probably because I touched Mei Wangtese in a most unclean manner. Fortunately, the INTERPOL had been working on a new drug to revive people who had died from freak accidents, and gave me a pill that saved my life.

I owe that pill, and the obstetrician who gave me that life saving drug, my very existence. They are forever in my debt.

Godspeed, soldier of fortune. Amen.

The End.

I know.... I know.

it's because more abortions

that's funny because I love how you cannot read

please stop sharing the results of your gun experiment with your dog

I built my lower for relatively cheap. Under $200 not including the stock. Upper was a bit more pricey, but its not a standard .556 ARs are cheap now.

No, not at all.

Former Marine turned educator Anthony Swofford weighes in on guns in classrooms:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/02/24/opinion/sunday/marine-gun-classroom.html

This also reminded me of something - military bases don't currently permit open carry of personal weapons, and military issue weapons are secured in armories unless used on duty. Trump is apparently pushing to revise this, but I'd be interested in the logic of military bases being gun-free and what our military/ex-military members made of that versus the "arm the teachers" argument?

Yes, I agree.

So two incidents “are all too often” now?

if you're going to cut corners/costs don't put sights or aiming aids on it - "assault rifles" are so powerful that if the mere shadow of the bullet comes within spitting distance of the target it is vaporized!

No shit? I think I've heard of them - pretty bad ass I must say.

https://politics.theonion.com/clinton-deploys-very-special-forces-to-iraq-1819565019

Damn you Carlin, why you got to be right all of the time? The man is just funny no matter what side of the isle you’re on.

...if you're asleep and your finger is broken.

actually 45 rounds a minute is a pretty good pace. A good balance of shot control and volume of fire. When I was in army (this may have changed) for our official M-16 weapons qualification we had two minutes to fire our 40 rounds at "pop up" targets of varying range out to 300 yards. We also had two targets pop up at the same time - engage the closest one first (biggest threat duh) because it doesn't stay up as long. This two minutes includes having to change out magazines of course. But it's more than enough time - rarely does anyone run out of time. "Think long, think wrong!" as they say.
The longer you keep the sights on the target the more they move around - so when you're on target let er' rip and wait for the next one to pop up.

What kinds of alcohol can we not buy?

I said effective rate of fire, not maximum cyclic rate.

You literally shared a post about two gun free zones to prove that armed areas institutions don’t protect people.

Wow?

You literally reiterated what he wrote in the post you quoted. Are you lazy as well as stupid?

It would probably be sufficient to park a police car in front of the school to dissuade many would-be shooters. The shooters who are doing this believe they can do so without armed resistance; if they believe armed resistance is present--whether it actually is or not--they may choose not to attack. There is some evidence that mass shooters favor areas where resistance is minimized (e.g., gun-free zones).

Regardless of your stance on guns, you have to be a realist and know that gun bans--let alone gun confiscation--are not going to happen, so we have to look at (1) intervening with the troubled people before they become mass shooters, (2) properly perform background checks to filter out those who should be lawfully excluded from owning firearms, and (3) hardening the soft targets (i.e., increasing security measures).

To those who say we love our guns over our children: the guns aren't going anywhere, so what will you choose over our children?

Y'know what I notice about the NRA bunch?
At least good bunch of 'em.
They victim blame, they punch downward, and none of 'em would dare say the shit they say to a survivor's face, and they definitely wouldn't want it Youtubed if they did.

Even the cocksuckers like Dinesh D'Souza have to hide behind Twitter, cuz they'd get creamed in person.
And I don't mean physically, the fucker can't debate his way out a wet Kleenexe.

I notice this about a lot of the bullshit on the right.
Let's see Flashlight say his racial theories on Black Panther to a black child on Youtube.
Yeah, don't hold your breath for it.

Or let's see him tell rape victims at a #metoo rally they're all golddigging bitches.
In person, with his face exposed.
Don't wait for that to happen either.

Me? I'd gladly tell Trump to his face he's Putin's cum dumpster.
In those words.
I'd sleep like a baby.
I wouldn't sweat "the PC police", either.
You don't have to sweat "the PC police", if you're not fucking evil.
There's no conscience problem and no courage problem when you're not filth.
Funny how that happens.

Was this ever answered?

Anyway, I thought a large part of the murder rate going down was 911 and improved trauma care.

I know that is what you want but that doesn't make it true.

The longer the righties refuse to budge on sensible gun control the higher the likelihood of bans.

Every mass shooting followed by thoughts and prayers is another bullet in the gun so to say.