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i predict something will happen at 9:35pm tonight.

  1. #1
    I had a dream that predicted something willhappen at that time cause in the dream i saw these police cars, and i was riding in a car with someome and I looked at the clock to see the time so I could listen to the poice radio later to see what happened.

    tl;dr, some event involing police will happen tonight at 9:35pm or tommorow at 9:35am.
  2. #2
    aldra JIDF Controlled Opposition
    The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
  3. #3
    OP is a fuckass
  4. #4
    mmQ Lisa Turtle
    9:43 eastern shitfucker. What happened?

    Oh wait you're CST. Alright disregard that thank you I will be back in about an hour.
  5. #5
    well what happened
  6. #6
    are we gonna start that chemical plant or what?
  7. #7
    Holy shit guys look out your windows what the fuck is that
  8. #8
    FUCK
  9. #9
    There is a ninja standing in my back yard trying to hide in the shadows and not set off peoples motion lights in the alley.
  10. #10
    Originally posted by SCronaldo_J_Trump are we gonna start that chemical plant or what?

    Yeah dawg, it'll just be a few more years when I get everyhing lined up. Also it might gotta ge sumthin else.
  11. #11
    Heyfuck you I got the cash I'm ready to flee the coutnry and quit my job to do this right now. You chat so much shit about wanting to get rich but you will be stuck forever where you are if you never take risks.
  12. #12
    Shit takes time. Just gimme a year and half. Maybe 1 year flat if I hussle.
  13. #13
    I will pay for everything, set it up I need to hire you to help me in the lab or I will die doing industrial synthesis alone and nobody will find my body when I slip and fall into a vat of hydroflouric acid.

    I proposed to help them by using my "small, efficient company" to make
    the chemicals they needed at rock-bottom prices. He was interested and called
    in others and I told them, too, that DuPont was in serious trouble and they
    nodded their heads in agreement, without listening to the rest of my pitch.
    Dr. H. wanted to know if I was familiar with the sythesis of allene. Indeed I
    was; it was one of the compounds on which Dr. F. O. Rice of Catholic
    University had published. I told him that the best synthesis, to my knowledge,
    consisted of the dehydrochlorination of 1,2,3-trichloropropane followed by
    treatment with a suspension of zinc in methyl alcohol to remove the remaining
    chlorine. He listened attentively and suggested that we make it a joint project;
    we would dehydrochlorinate and they would dechlorinate. I told him that I
    would prefer it the other way around. He reminded me that I had told him
    that my visit was to make DuPont's life easier; we agreed to run both reactions.
    My promise was complicated by the fact that I had never run either.
    When one treats 1,2,3-trichloropropane with alkali and a little water the
    reaction is violent; there is a tendency to deposit the reaction product, the
    raw materials and the apparatus on the ceiling and the attending chemist. I
    solved this by setting up duplicate 12 liter flasks, each equipped with double
    reflux condensers and surrounding each with a half dozen large tubs. In
    practice, when the reaction "took off" I would flee through the door or
    window and battle the eruption with water from a garden hose. The contents
    flying from the flasks were deflected by the ceiling and collected under water
    in the tubs. I used towels to wring out the contents which separated, shipping
    the lower layer to DuPont. They complained of solids suspended in the liquid,
    but accepted the product and ordered more. I increased the number of flasks
    Io four, doubled the number of wash tubs and completed the new order.
    They ordered a 55 gallon drum. At best, with myself as chemist and
    supervisor, I could make a gallon a day, arriving home with skin and lungs
    saturated with 2,3-dichloropropene. I needed help.

    An advertisement in the
    local newspaper resulted in an interview with a former producer of illicit
    spirits named Preacher who hud just done penunce tit the locul penitentiary.
    127 He listened carefully and approved of my method of production which he
    said might be improved with copper coils. Immediately he began to enlarge
    our production room by removing a wall, putting in an extra table, and
    increasing the number of washtubs and reaction set-ups. It was amazing to
    see Preacher in action (I gave him encouragement through the window); he
    would walk up the aisles from set-up to set-up putting in first the caustic
    then the water, then fastening on the rubber stoppers and condenser, then
    using the hose. At this stage the room was a swirling mass of steam and
    2,3-dichloropropene. We made a vast amount of material and shipped the
    complete order to DuPont—on schedule.
    As a part of our contract with them we had agreed to supply details of
    the production as well as innovations we might have discovered. I wrote them
    a complete description, giving credit to my indefatigable co-worker. Two
    weeks later I received a telegram with only two words. "Ship Preacher!"



    You are preacher.
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