Not important per se, but Russia's apparently building a successor to the TOS-1 MLRS, same idea but with more, longer tubes on an Armata chassis. I only mention it because I still consider it the most terrifying weapon on the battlefield today:
even if you don't get incinerated, you'll probably suffocate from the thermobaric rounds consuming all the oxygen in the area
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fuck the police, being a fat fuck is a great way to express your disdain for your society. You know like when you put on your shittiest clothes to go meet someone as a way of being like "yeah, I don't need to make a good impression on you"? It's like that, but constantly, where every moment of every day you look around and say "look you cunts, stare at my disgusting bloated body, this is how much I care about you". Being fit is caring, being fat is saying I care more about my shitty diet and low-effort lifestyle than looking good or living a long time.
Every day I walk past two gyms on my way home, I look at the people there, literally running in place for an hour, for what? To eek out a few more years of their miserable reprehensible existence built on the back of exploitation of others? To get laid and continue their legacy of soullessness? I laugh at them, while they use thousand dollar machines designed to do things we no longer need to do I revel in hedonistic opulence and wear the badge my lifestyle bestows upon me proudly. Because fuck exercise, fuck dieting, fuck the healthcare system my diseased vessel will burden, and fuck the miserable fuck who has the misfortune to look upon me.
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Ten little nigger boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine. Nine little nigger boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight. Eight little nigger boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven. Seven little nigger boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six. Six little nigger boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one of them and then there were five. Five little nigger boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four. Four little nigger boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. Three little nigger boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two. Two little nigger boys sitting in the sun; One got all frizzled up and then there was one. One little nigger boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were none.
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College Prof and I were laughing when Fona walked out (to go beat off) because it's obvious he lives in his moms apartment. with that lamp-shade and sewing pincushion sitting on the armrest of the couch.
I thought he was in standard issue barracks but apparently he shops with his mom.
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