On Sunday afternoon in  a Fayetteville, North Carolina church, Manna Church, the world,family and friends said goodbye to Shaniya Davis. Shaniya had captured the heart of the world, after it was discovered that her own mother had sold her into bondage as a sex slave,to Mario McNeill, who brutally raped and murdered the little child.

More than 2000 people were inside the church to support Bradley Lockhart, Shaniyas dad, and the man who made the decision to send Shaniya back to her mother,after having raised the child for the full 5 years of her life,which directly led to her death.

“Don’t let God’s words and don’t let his actions get you down,” Lockhart told the packed congregation. “He did this for a reason.”

Shaniya Davis funeral was open to the public and was standing room only.Lockhart urged the 1,500 crowded into Manna Church and another 500 watching the service from an adjacent building to help the community’s needy, according to press reports.

As mourners filled the church, a photo display of Shaniya Davis was streamed on the overhead projector. Never before released photos of Shaniya were displayed. These photos showed Shaniya with her father, Bradley Lockhart and her siblings.

Lockhart said, “Shaniya, Daddy love you honey. And I know you’re gonna’ be waiting for me … I’ll see you when I get there.”

White doves were released at her graveside as the little child Shaniya was laid to her eternal resting place.

Click on the link below to view a comprehensive sideshow of pictures covering the Shaniya Davis funeral…

http://www.cbsnews.com/blogs/2009/10/01/crimesider/entry5356401.shtml

I figured this was what Mario Andrette McNeill did with Shaniya Davis. He choked her to death and tried to hide the evidence of his crimes under bags of deer carcasses. No wonder he had that flicker of a smile on his face as he was being photographed and videoed. He was famous, even notorious now. No wonder he and her mother, Antoinette Davis, are separated from the jail population for their own protection. That there is honor even among thieves, so to speak, says a lot about how heinous a crime that has been committed.

I am going to say this: black people did not resist slavery in order to visit this kind of thing on our people. We saw so much and were probably reeling from so much even after slavery officially ended. And in some cases, it got worse for us. That’s exactly why our ancestors didn’t talk too much about their memories of slavery, of the days during and after Reconstruction, and of second-class wage slavery and American apartheid to their children and grandchildren; it was too painful on which to linger.

That even as a child of 10, 11 or 12, you could fall prey to a master, a master’s son or other relative, a white manager or worker. Or, to a master’s archaic ideas about multiplying his “herd” or “flock” by putting a ‘tween black girl with a fully-adult black male like horses or mules.

A girl’s feelings about who they are aren’t that well-developed, no matter how people may argue that the current culture has sexualized and desensitized children into thinking that they are mature. Now imagine a girl child of five being forcibly, wrenchingly introduced into that adult world of carnality. She’s not able to process mentally, much less physically, what in the world is happening to her. Shaniya could have sustained massive internal injuries during the rape. Had Shaniya had survived, she may not have been able to bear children. This isn’t anything new either. We have the testimonies of black women like Billie Holiday and Maya Angelou–Holiday and Angelou through autobiographies and memoirs–who were raped as baby girls. It’s just that simple–and horrifying to explain. Those stories were also meant as warnings, not just protest literature. It happened to us; it was not our fault.

Somehow, though, by not teaching and talking about this legacy–making it real beyond simply a school assignment–and by not repeating the poison of self-abnegation, we’ve got some generations who know no limits to dealing despair and cruelty to each other. So slavery too is back with a vengeance. Some 100,000 children of every color between 10-14 years old are sex slaves, some being pimped by their parents, the majority selling themselves on the street as runaways or being pimped by other adults. And there is indeed a market. We know there is, but it could be as distant from our minds like the modern slave trade in Africa. We need to agitate here so we can have some understanding of what is going on over there. A mother, who looks like a denizen from a bad dream, to sell her own daughter for some coke rocks? I thought that I had seen the last of this kind of thing in the Eighties and Nineties.

Even wearing McNeill and Davis wearing their hair in dreadlocks gives a bad name to the hair style. I don’t think Marley meant for his Rasta dreads to be imitative of dope fiends, but of released-from-mental-and-spiritual-bondage, proud-of-who-they are and lionized black people. But there they are on these two wastes of blood and semen. This too is how a legacy is obscured and misused. When I admired a brother’s dreads in New York at a subway station, he cautioned me about touching them because he considered them as nothing less than a sacrament. I had heard about people like this, but when confronted with it, I had to respect him. My curiosity could go no farther. I could not lay hands on him, or anything on his person, without his permission for whatever reason. There are limits about treating things and people that you don’t understand with disrespect, or robbing them of life.

But people like McNeill and Davis feel nothing. They look like they don’t give a flying you know what. All they feel is the rock talking through them. Antoinette in particular seems zombified. And so now, because of their own dreadful choices, they don’t even have their own lives any more because they have robbed this child of life. Did Antoinette feel nothing about the child while she was in her womb at all? What did she feel when she gave the girl to McNeill? Did she really think that she could have sanitized the girl’s absence with her father? All this because of Antoinette’s drug habit. Like I said, the bust in the summer could have been the reason why. Because the cops got his stash while McNeill was living with her sister, Antoinette must have owed him. Did he use a gun or just his physical strength against the mother in order to get “paid”?

Shaniya reminds me of my brother’s girls, my biracial nieces Tasha and her sister when they were little babies and toddlers. I can only look at their photographs as they were when they were five, and shake my head.

Child sodomizer and killer McNeill and Antoinette...Shaniyas' rapist and mom pimp...Lets hope they die soon.

This is a story that is truly disturbing for me to report, but it has to happen.

The animal that killed Shaniya Davis must be put to death, the sooner the better is my preferance.I have no mercy for this person, Mario McNeil,or her terrible mother,and the people who supported them to be able to live this long.

I hope they all burn in hell for what they did to little Shaniya.

The AP reports that the 5-year-old North Carolina girl was raped and killed the same day she was taken from her home, according to an arrest warrant released Friday. Shaniya Davis was sexually assaulted and asphyxiated Nov. 10, the day her mother reported her missing from the trailer park where she was staying, according to the warrant.

Mario McNeill is charged with first-degree murder and first-degree rape of a child in the warrant, which was issued after police said they collected hair and fibers, clothes, and a straw from his 1997 Mitsubishi Galant. He was initially charged only with kidnapping.

McNeill seemed nervous as he appeared in court Friday for a brief hearing on the latest charges. He nodded his head slightly to the judge’s questions but did not enter a plea. His lawyer, Allen Rogers, left the courtroom with his client and didn’t speak to reporters. He also didn’t return messages left at his office from The Associated Press.

The girl’s mother, Antoinette Davis, is charged with filing a false police report, trafficking her daughter and child abuse involving prostitution.

Her mother does not believe that her daughter harmed her child….so I say that they all should be thrown in jail with the general population.

She had to have known that her daughter is a pig, and was a danger to her defenseless little grand-daughter while she laid back and allowed it to happen.

She should be ashamed to support her vile and viscous daughter, and I suspect that she was a child abuser and molester, and she more than likely taught her daughter how to be one as well.

I hope they all die by the hands of the justice system.

Meanwhile, Shaniya’s father, Bradley Lockhart, appeared on Friday’s “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” where Winfrey asked him if he had anything to say to Davis. He told The Associated Press earlier that he had cared for Shaniya for several years but decided to give Davis a chance to raise her because she seemed to be getting her life together.

“Right now I just think it’s best that we let the justice system take its course,” Lockhart said on the show. “I try to keep my heart as pure as possible, and I’m sure one day I will be able to sit down and talk to her, try and understand what was going through her mind.”

All I can say is that I wish I could be a juror on that trial, because I would not hesitate to vote the death penalty for these cowards…

Write in and comment on my blog here, and let me know what type of punishment this child rapist Mario McNeill deserves, and what kind of death should her mother Antoinette Davis, that sold her for sex to settle a drug debt, should get, because she absolutely deserves the death penalty…in all 50 states.

The details of this case just make me sick, as it should all civilized human beings.

It is hard for me to look at this idiot, but here is a news report from You tube, courtesy of the AP…

Let me know how you would put him to death….let me know.

Innocent Shaniya patiently waiting to be raped and murdered by the animal Mario McNeill

Let’s pray for his swift and violent death…he has earned all of our hatred.

Shaniya Davis Pimped,Molested,and Muredered by her Mom...

I know that children are a blessing and that they should always be protected. Babies and little children look towards their mothers primarily for that unconditional bond of love,trust and safety.

It is incredible to think that people can be so cruel and inhuman to children. It is sick that a mother could sexually molest their own child, and unthinkable to think that a mother would profit from the sexual  molestation of her own small child, it is uncomfortable for me to have to even be aware that it is even possible.

Today, the AP is reporting that this very thing has happened. A missing innocent little child, Shaniya Davis has been found dead, at the hands of her own mother , who pimped her out to a sexual deviant. The precious little baby girl had no chance at life, at the hands of her worthless, and heartless mother.

She deserves all of societies contempt and hatred for this unspeakable act of man’s inhumanity to man.

Searchers found Shaniya Davis’ body early Monday afternoon about 100 feet off a road southeast of Sanford, in central North Carolina, Fayetteville Police spokeswoman Theresa Chance said. She declined to comment on a cause of death or the condition of Shaniya’s body.

The missing 5 year old’s own mother, Antoinette Davis, 25 is charged with human trafficking and felony child abuse.

An accomplice, Mario Andrette McNeill, 29, will face kidnapping charges. He was seen on surveillance footage carrying Shaniya at a Sanford hotel. As a result, another man who was arrested last week has been freed.

Davis  reported Shaniya missing last Tuesday.Authorities first arrested a man named Clarence Coe, but charges against him were dropped a day later when investigators tracked down McNeill after receiving a tip from a hotel employee.

Additional information led investigators to a search site near Sanford on Sunday. They continued searching Monday, scouring miles of landscape, roads, ravines and fields on four-wheelers and with helicopters.

According to arrest documents cited by The Fayetteville Observer, Davis “knowingly provide(d) Shaniya Davis with the intent that she be held in sexual servitude” and she “permit(ted) an act of prostitution.”

Shaniya had only been living with her mother since last month,when Shaniya’s father, Bradley Lockhart,  decided to let her stay with her mother.

Lockhart said he had raised his daughter for several years but last month thought it would be good for his daughter to be raised by her mother.”I should’ve never let her go over there,” he said Saturday.

Lockhart told The Associated Press on Saturday that he and Davis never argued about him raising Shaniya, and Cumberland County courts had no record of a custody dispute. He described his relationship with Davis as a “one-night stand” and said he did not know McNeill.

Davis struggled financially over the years, but she recently obtained a job and her own place, so Lockhart said he decided to give her a chance to raise their daughter

It proved to be a death sentence for his daughter, and he must be shocked to find out that he delivered his baby daughter into the hands of her mother who is a monster. Prostituting your 5-year-old baby daughter is an activity that one has probably been involved with before.

I bet little Shaniya was excited to be with her mother, as all little baby 5 year olds would be.

I demand that they force her to turn over all the names and information of the sick pedophiles that she had sold her daughter to for the past four weeks prior to her murder.

After Shaniya’s body was found, a solemn group of searchers met quietly at a nearby fire station to ensure that all volunteers were accounted for.

“We were hoping that someone could carry her home,” said Syd Severe, 42, who came from Raleigh to help with the search. “It’s just sick.”

Authorities have said McNeill admitted to taking the girl, though his attorney says he will plead not guilty to the charge. They have not said if McNeill and Davis knew each other.

Miss Davis’s aunt, Leona Cromertie, said her niece also had a son and was pregnant.

I cite this as a case that is worthy of the death penalty.

I pray that this child can find peace in death,because the realization of the torture and sexual abuse that she endured up until the molester snapped her neck or however he killed this beautiful innocent child is unbearable for me to comprehend.

Antoinette Davis...pimped out her 5 year old daughter

http://jerrybrice.wordpress.com/?s=baby+raped+and+murdered

I’m not a lawyer and more specifically not an intellectual property (IP) lawyer, but this particular area of the law is one I have been involved in as a patent owner. It’s somewhat weird to think that you can patent ideas such that other folks cannot use them without permission – but there yah go!

The field of IP is, however, a source of great entertainment for those who are not suing or being sued. For example, an 8-year battle between McDonalds and Malaysian fast-food company McCurry (allegedly short for “Malaysian Chicken Curry“) still continues.

McCurry Restaurant and Owners

One other linguistically based skirmish took place in 2006 between Viacom International (owners of MTV, VH1, Paramount Pictures, and a host of media companies) and sole-proprietor web site Pimp My Snack. I thought of headlining this SpongeBob Whips Sponge Cake but thought better of it.

The alleged infringing site, now called Pimp THAT Snack, is dedicated to the “art” of taking a particular item of food and turning it into a much larger version. I came across it while watching an episode of BBC’s The F-Word and saw one of the presenters create a two-foot wide Jaffa(R) cake – a popular chocolate-coated orange-based cookie.

Huge Jaffa cake with originals in foreground

The use of the word pimp in this situation reflects a modern change to refer to something as being wonderful, great, cool, or desirable. It appears to have been originally used in this way in the 1970’s by African-American males to describe an attitude or swagger, and being pimp was a good thing. It also seems to have been happy to jump across parts of speech from noun (“He’s a pimp“) to adjective (“That’s a pimp outfit you’re wearing”) to verb (“I’ve pimped out my ride”), and even interjection (“Pimping!”)

It’s in its use a verb that the Viacom lawsuit is based. In 2004, MTV launched the show Pimp My Ride, where the mechanics of LA car shop, West Coast Customs, would take a beat-up old car and transform it into something glamorous and desirable. Viacom have clearly decided that they can claim ownership of the phrase Pimp My X, hence the “cease-and-desist” order against the linguistically similar Pimp My Snack.

Legally, I suspect that only the words “pimp my” are covered because changing to Pimp THAT Snack doesn’t seem to have incurred a further law suit. The word “my” is used as a possessive determiner whereas “that” is used as a demonstrative, so clearly it’s true that “possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

Legal arguments aside, the word pimp first makes an appearance in 1607 to refer to someone who “provides means and opportunities for unlawful sexual intercourse.”  (OED, Vol XI, p.845)

The famous diarist Samuel Pepys wrote in his 1666 diary on 10th June that, “The Duke of York is wholly given up to his new mistress… Mr. Brouncker, it seems, was the pimp to bring it about.”

It’s thought that the word derives from the 16th century French verb, pimper, which translates as “to render elegant,” and then from the past participle, pimpant,  to mean alluring or seductive in appearance or dress. However, this is still open to discussion.

Interestingly, the word is also used dialectically to mean a bundle of firewood or faggot, which first appears in print in 1742 in De Foe’s Tour of Great Britain; “Those small light Bavins, which are used in Taverns in London to light their Faggots, and are called in the Taverns a Brush, and by the Wood-men Pimps.”

Pimp or faggot

Continuing with the word as a noun, in Australian and New Zealand slang a pimp is an informer or tell-tale, while in Welsh dialect it’s a Peeping Tom.

As a verb, it is used intransitively. In the New Yorker magazine on May 26th, 1975, you’ll find “His father (Jack Warden) pimps to add to his income as a taxi-driver.”

Oh, and those of you who are fascinated by bacronyms may want to stop by the Urban Dictionary site to find a few that have appeared for pimp. These include “Person Into Marketing Prostitutes,” “Player In Many Places,” “Put It In My Pocket” and even “Penis In Many People.”

And who says modern youth are not linguistically creative

So I have to make a blog, done I have this one already fun for me to post some thing for school on it. Here is an update for the few people that actually read these

Living on my own, making good money, paying bills. Sexy and single haha had to add that in their for my Aunt Danielle to read later. Still no insurance, I read some of my old post and saw I was going to get it like five months ago and didn’t sounds just like me…today is the day though I guess lame. Raining out so no work today almost have enough money for a new computer. Clean yes I’m clean from anything illegal anymore Yeah for me I guess. Sold my PS3 to my aunt Danielle. Built a huge corner desk not a sissy one like your grandma has but HUGE like 7.5 feet by 7.5feet. Also a customized gaming chair for it made, from base of computer chair, and top of bucket seat from an old van. Yes I’m a pimped out gamer. Sick I am sadly so I’m not suppose to drink pop but Idk I still do. Okay here is the school post sorry for being so lazy in the EveryDay Life Section.

I can distinctly remember growing up and being influenced by what my peers and parents said about music. I think many of todays and future generations teenagers will be influenced by this to a certain degree or at least until they see that they don’t care what other people think. I can remember when I was young the diversion of my mom thinking she was black, and my dad listening to that god awful country. I knew I hated country and was closer to my mother so I guess I kicked it with her for awhile.

I can remember being young, not sure how young but too young to completely remember…When I first heard a rock band in which I like, Creed if I remember right. For some time I battled back and forth between raps and rock until I realized how much everyone listens to rap and think they are some thug and gangster by listening to it. Probably the same time I thought screw this and the world I will do what I want metal all the way from there and never looked back.

Bands I was told when I was young to never listen to cause they would warp my mind or mess me up from mindless parents who judge them as artist, such as Marlyn Mansion, Korn, Rob Zombie, Death Sheep, Heaven Shall Burn or Insane Clown Posse and countless others. Yeah it may have been some dark music for my younger age and maybe I did become more rebellious but it was doomed to happen sooner or later. I’ve seen parents blame video games, music, and movies on why their children some pot, party, drink, or do anything that they don’t wish them too. I think it just gives parents and off, an easy way to deal with their children’s problems then they can seem to themselves no responsible for it.

Musical style of me to others of older generations is next to none; my uncle and aunt are the closest things I can get to my musical peers. Two people my uncle is becoming a pansy and switching to country because his wife doesn’t like rock or old school rock. Kind of weird I heard before he was married he was cool and listen to music, went to concerts, just plainly acted like a kid and did fun things. Is that the plan for everyone, get married become lame….I sure hopes not…Maybe they just need some more death metal in their ears.

I will be sad when I’m older and listening to what the young punks will call old school. I just hope it doesn’t go hip hop, or techno…let it stay in the rockfish genre. It will definitely change that’s for certain as anyone can see today and even just looking back twenty years. One thing is for sure where ever it goes they will always owe their success to the old stuff without the old their will or would never be any new stuff.

A T-shirt was seen on campus during the first week of classes with a logo like this on it.

We applaud the use of , but a poll here at the OU Math Club Blog HQ was unanimous that you can’t both be a pimp and wear a T-shirt with a on it.

Unless of course the wearer meant that he’s a small bundle of brushwood used as kindling.  Or maybe he’s saying PIMP (peeing in my pants).  Or, perhaps he’s in med school:

They know nothing of Natural Philosophy, these pin-heads. Drunkards, sloths, their bellies filled with Mead and Ale. O that I might see them pimped!

–Harvey in London in 1628

P.S.  For another Found Math, check out this recent comment.

Hey there, wannabes, jerkwads and Long Island inhabitants! Is your car interior in need of being pimped? Wish that your seats reflected the tacky, brazen personality of your AXE-sprayed epidermis? Want your butt and back coddled by the visage of zoo animals? Well, Christian Audigier has once again risen to the challenge, creating the car seat cover for such a consumer:

The Ed Hardy car seat cover: when devil girl and Hello Kitty covers just won’t do.

The Ed Hardy car seat cover shows that you mean business, if that business is showing the world that you are a follower with the most base of tastes. The world will know that you like your car innards like you like your t-shirts and water: loud with a chance of jackass.

But hey, you’re expressing yourself, right? And Ed Hardy is your self-expression to show how awesome you are. Good luck telling others that you aren’t a cast member of VH1’s Tool Academy!

The Ed Hardy car cover seat also matches well with the Ed Hardy car air freshener (sold separately). Unsurprisingly, it also smells like AXE:

The Ed Hardy car cover seat. Try to convince people that you didn’t clothe your seat backs in black velvet paintings from the ’70s!

Also goes well with Ed Hardy coffee traveler cup.

I already explained what a Resident Physician is. So now, I’ll tell you what it’s like to be trying to learn while in this role.

I have been fortunate to be working at a training program that is relatively new, and relatively small. It makes it a comfortable place to learn, a place where we can focus on developing as clinicians and members of the community, instead of working all hours to make sure the hospital keeps ticking along. Sometimes it is difficult to convince the attending physicians that we are capable of seeing patients on our own and of managing their care to a certain extent. Sometimes, we might even do an exceptional job of it. Although many of the specialist and some of the family practice programs in this province are service-based, we are privileged to not carry that burden where my placement is. There are advantages to both systems, but for me, the balance of life and work where I am seems to be just right.

It can still be a bit wonky, like that long-weekend I was on call and didn’t get to stop for a bathroom or a meal break. Or the time I was a fool and carried TWO pagers on my belt, having signed up for both regular house call and Internal Medicine call on the same night. I lucked out, and the house call was light. I even got to discover a new area in the bowels of the hospital, where they stick patients who are undergoing rehabilitation, often after complex orthopedic surgery. I must say, I did not look very fashionable with my Batman utility belt’s worth of pagers and cell phone. I didn’t have time to learn much, and the circles under my eyes the next morning didn’t look so great either.

Sometimes, exhaustion at the end of the day means it’s hard to eat right, exercise, study, stay in touch with friends and family, and do all that other stuff we are supposed to do to keep well. There are no unit-based tests, only a few big exams that are quite “off in the distance,” so the drive to read and memorize is not quite as strong as it used to be. Shame-based learning is still in effect. This is the kind of learning that is undertaken when one is tired of looking like a fool, of saying “I don’t know,” or of getting scolded for being an idiot. Fortunately, the kind of doctors I’ve been working with in this community are keen on teaching and not so keen on belittling. Still, it doesn’t feel great when one of their questions can’t be answered, so there is a clear incentive to stay reading. (I am still planning on writing a full article about “getting pimped” in medicine, don’t worry!)

Medical students / interns/ and residents ask a lot of questions too. Sometimes it’s because we are genuinely curious and trying to figure out why something was done a certain way. Occasionally, it might be to show off the fact that we FINALLY, ACTUALLY, KNOW SOMETHING!! And after we share this thought in the form of an innocuous question – our ego is smacked right down again by our attending physician poking holes in our superficial understanding of the topic. I fell into this trap early in the month; stupidly, I asked “what do you think of the link between Lantus and cancer?” noticing a physician ordering this fancy kind of insulin for a patient, and thinking I might seem like I knew my up from my down. “Oh? Lantus and cancer? Tell me about it?” Yah, I had only read the little blurb in the newspaper and wasn’t prepared to describe the pathophysiology of the thing. Fizzle!

Since the diseases don’t read the textbooks, sometimes I feel pretty silly reading too. That, and I’m tired of pushing my eyes across a page and not having any more room in my brain to collect the information. All the facts are meaningless until a patient walks in the door, then it all has meaning. Wwe do need to answer patient questions thoroughly and accurately, and generally know what we are doing and why.

We can be naive and not know how to answer when questioned by a preceptor. Sometimes attending physicians ask “tell me what I’m thinking” questions – which are impossible by definition – but usually they are reasonable and ask us about our approach to diagnosis or treatment of an illness.

While making his rounds, a doctor points out an x-ray to a group of medical students.

“As you can see,” he says, “the patient limps because his left fibula and tibia are radically arched.”

The doctor turns to one of the students and asks, “What would you do in a case like this?”

“Well,” ponders the student, “I suppose I’d limp, too.”

That’s not an unreasonable answer, if you think about it. It’s just not what they want to hear. Sometimes we know exactly what  kind of answer should be given, and we know we learned about it in the cardiology block of 1st year med school, and that UpToDate has a great article on it, and that it’s on page 139 of Cecil’s Essentials, but we cannot for the life of us recall the name of that physical finding or quaint disease you want us to shout out. “Osler’s nodes! Grey-Turner’s sign, damnit! Oh, it’s the Duke Criteria and that thing in his mouth is Oral Hairy Leukoplakia! Arg!!!” If we don’t know the answer, we do know where to find it. For many of us, the answer is in our second brain. The brain that is, like a large sauropod’s or ornithischian’s, present at our hip*. In my case, it’s an iPhone, either in my pocket or on my belt. It’s got a lot of what I need, except for common sense, logical reasoning, critical thinking, and empathy. Okay, it has some of what I need, like drug doses and differentials for even the most peculiar of presentations.

All the residents I know are ‘good folk.’ We help each other out with the learning end of things, swapping battle stories and sharing interesting findings. But there is a reputation – on TV mostly – that interns are a frisky bunch, whose main concern is, well, not the awesome murmur on Mrs. S in room 503.

Walking down the hospital corridor, the Nursing Supervisor found it shocking to see one of her nurses walking toward her in total disarray. Her uniform was wrinkled, her hair was a mess and if that wasn’t enough, one of her breasts was hanging out of her open top.
Yelling at her, the supervisor said, “Miss Thomas, how do you account for your appearance. Not only do you resemble a derelict, but your breast is exposed!”
Quickly stuffing her breast back into her uniform, the nurse replied, “Those damn interns. They never put anything back when they’re finished using it!”

The part about not putting stuff back where it came from is true. We also don’t usually know where to find it, and have to ask several nurses, clinical co-ordinators, cleaning personnel, and patients in order to find the vital signs or bedpan we seek. Good thing the staff and patients are usually pretty nice. I’m definitely going to have to keep counting on them, for many years to come. Thank heck for teamwork and people far smarter than me!

I guess I had better practice what I preach and go learn something now.

—–

* The “second brain” of the Brachiosaurus/Apatosaurus and Stegosaurus was actually more like a nervous relay station, perhaps a ganglion or enlargment of the spinal cord, at the level of the rear hips in order to better control the rear legs and tail.

I feared it would happen sooner or later…my mom has officially pimped me out.  So she calls last night around 1am tanked but so was I…it was game night.  Then tells me that she knows a guy (who shes already talked to about it) who is 22 and willing to donate for us.  Obviously he wanted to go at with the ole “let me just bang her one good time”…seriously….  After mom broke his heart and said that would happen he agreed to do it a la cup.  The laws in Florida here do protect us against him saying I’m the daddy kind of shit so I’m not worried about that – he already has kids anyway.  But my mom wants us to meet him and I’m not sure what to do…  I appreciate the help cause really we don’t know that many guys but at the same time – there is always the “do you have something” risk…  Any thoughts?  Should we meet him or say politely no thanks?

Ist. Das. Awesome!

Sowas brauch ich auch, am besten im Bad unterm Klo.

[via Nerdcore]

I love it.

Over at the Homunculus he asked to Pimp his Chosen

So here’s my boy, Big Pimpin with the 2hander, and killing spec.

Here he is in his current, pimped out look, Red Gore, with Warlock Purple secondary.

 9:48 pm

10 Pimped Whips  that Bitch Slapped the Big Three-  There’s trouble ahead for big companies in America, and there’s nobody to blame except the idiots who ran them into the ground.  Circuit City was the first big retailer to go broke because they couldn’t compete with Best Buy, or Ebay for matter, and they sold junk at ridiculously high prices anyway.  Next was AIG.  They passed out policies that like they were free, and they paid their executives big bucks for running the company into the ground.  And, this was after they got a handout.  But, nothing compares to the blunders of America’s big “Three” automakers.  Not ony did they ruin the auto industry with frivolous shopping sprees and union bow-downs, in return they let these 10 pimped whips run them out of town, and business.

1.  Ford Pinto- The Mexican  American jumping bean  on wheels, to those who know it best.  It exploded faster than a lad during a slow dance at prom.

2. Chevy Cavalier- Cavalier is a French word for cheap in any language and it’s been the same no frills or upgrades for 20 years model that rusts in a week.

3.  Chevrolet Astro- More like a suped-up milk truck.  Even the milkman wouldn’t drive one of these.

4.  Ford Taurus- Ford Clitaurus.  Ha, ha, ha.  That one’s always funny.

5.  Ford Explorer-  You explored lots of ways to have it towed home because it broke down so damn much.

6.  Jaguar X-Type-  They really mean Ford X-Type:  Totally cheap on the inside and anything Xtra is Xpensive.

7.  Hummer H2- Preferred getaway car of the rapper or professional athlete who gets busted for weed, then cries “po-po profiling” to the media.

8.  Toyota Prius- Everything about it is totally gay in a not directed at a homosexual sense, and the hydrogen reactor that powers it is $2300 to fix.

9.  Chrysler Sebring- Quite possibly the most worthless American car ever made, but there’s 20 million of them on the road at all times.

10.  Jeep Compass- Don’t let the cool name fool you.  It’s a lame ass Dodge in disguise (http://autos.yahoo.com/articles/autos_content_landing_pages/923/10-Cars-That-Sank-Detroit;_ylc=X3oDMTE4aGI2MDhuBF9TAzI3MTYxNDkEc2VjA2ZwLXRvZGF5BHNsawNzYW5rLWRldHJvaXQ).

So, in the end, there will be plenty of business-school case studies analyzing all the automobile industry’s screw ups and lots of theories as to why the car biz was run bankrupt in America. But, as they say in the auto industry, it all comes down to product and they pimped theirs out the wrong way.  Chryslter, General Motors and Ford all just plain suck and they are notorious for making junky cars.  Maybe it’s about time they got bitch slapped like every other company on the brink of failure.  Screw the unions and go pro government.  Obamanomics rules the world.

This is really cool, but I’d never be able to afford it.
The New Atlantic City Express Service (cleverly nicknamed the ACES train… Get it? Aces. Cards. Casinos!) is the first direct transportation between Atlantic City, NJ and NYC. The line, operated by NJ Transit, runs from Atlantic City Terminal station to Penn Station.

!!!
Photos in slideshow available on the Media Room link on the ACES website. 

On the first level, coach seating starts at $39 and offers comfortable leather seating and bar kiosks.  First class seating, which costs $25 more, is located on the upper level of the train, includes private food and beverage service.  For an an additional $200, ACES offers reservations in a private lounge (see: hotness), which includes luxurious couches, DVD players and flat screen TVs.

So if you happen to be planning on splurging on a trip in either NYC or Atlantic City, consider spending your dough on the bad boy of public transportation. Personally, I could reserve the lounge and just ride the train back and forth all day.