Wednesday, December 28, 2016

“kill” him.



Try as I really have, I find it impossible to show  goodwill toward these filthy, racist, commie cokesuckers. I tell myself, hey, they're misguided and stupid perhaps, but are God's creatures.  Alas, they mimic the devil's spawn, and are best dropped into an active volcano or vat of acid.

5 comments:

toadold said...

I remember a story about a hog barn. It had a grated floor and they would spray water inside to rinse the hog shit into a tank below the floor. This worked well for a while but when the shit accumulated to fast in the tank stopped/slowed the emptying of the tank and methane built up in it and suffocated all of the hogs. So I expect the usual suspects to die from the crap they put out.

SoylentGreen said...

On showing a little goodwill...
From Sun Tzu, Chapter 7:
36. When you surround an army, leave an outlet free.
[This does not mean that the enemy is to be allowed to escape. The object, as Tu Mu puts it, is "to make him believe that there is a road to safety, and thus prevent his fighting with the courage of despair." Tu Mu adds pleasantly: "After that, you may crush him."]

Anonymous said...

"Men, they have us surrounded. Don't let any of them get away!"

Gen. Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller

MAX Redline said...

Says the man who has clearly never seen, let alone killed, a hog in his life.

Full-grown hogs are around 400 lbs, are unbelievably strong, extremely territorial, and have real short tempers and a bite that literally crushes bones. There’s a reason that hunters who go after feral hogs prefer to do so at ranges exceeding 100 yards. Or why, if they must go “in the mud”, they take dogs with them, and the dogs wear kevlar.

Nobody in their right mind wants to go toe-to-toe “in the mud” with a hog. Guster is full of gusto, but lacking in sense.


Couldn't have said it better myself - except that domestic hogs weigh double that. If you ain't raised 'em, you got no business talking about getting into the mud with them - you'd know better.

Stu Tarlowe said...

About going toe-to-toe with a feral hog: I knew a guy who ran hog hunts at his lodge in S. Carolina. I never went, but I watched his videos. The hog was pursued and cornered by a pack of Plott Hounds; in the course of this it was routine for a dog or two to be tossed in the air (and viciously, sometimes fatally gored) by the hog's tusks. Maybe nowadays the dogs wear Kevlar; this was back in the '90s.

But finally the hog was pinned, usually against a snag in a creek. Then the pitbulls were sent in. In the videos you can watch a pitbull launching from the bank like a fucking guided missile and sinking its teeth - SMACK! - into the hog's neck!

And THEN comes the human hunter, who wades into the creek and engages (and finishes off) the hog with a big-ass Bowie knife lashed to a pole. It's pretty damn "toe-to-toe" and "in the mud".

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