Why not?

Were the beans okay?

At the same time?

I see you’ve met my dad.

“chew”

It’s like trying to wipe peanut butter out of a shag carpet.

Where I live, gun laws are fairly restrictive, and to get a license a civilian has to pass an FBI background check, complete a live-fire training course, and submit an application (with multiple character references) and go through an interview process with the local police to explain why you need a firearm. AR15s (among others) are banned outright, and all guns are limited to a 10 round magazine. (Not to mention bans on certain rifle attachments that have little to no bearing on making the rifle more “dangerous”.)

Meanwhile, military and law enforcement can purchase whatever they want, banned or not (i.e. AR15s, 30 round mags, banned handguns and rifles). This is regardless of whether they are using it for personal or professional reasons. (Let’s be honest, these guys aren’t buying their own rifles to go on patrol.) If you go online to look at what a local gun shop has in stock, they will have certain firearms listed at “LE only”. These Law Enforcement only firearms are usually sold at much lower prices (~50%) than they normally would be as well.

Given this scenario, do you feel that this is reasonable?

I’m curious what you mean by “military and officers should have “easy” access to them.”

Do you think they should have better access to guns while performing their jobs only, or are you saying that they should be treated like a separate class entirely, with special privileges?

That sounds surprisingly tolerable.

You are a real human. I’m sorry you feel like that, I hope things get easier for you.

No, thank you.

I have no experience with boiled peanuts. What’s the deal?

Man, that’s so sad.

My purpose it to be sitting on a beach, fat and drunk.

“It’s 9 a.m., and I don’t feel like drinking, but…”

What was the scenario (if you don’t mind saying)?

Sometimes, when I think about it, I just start blubbering.

I hit a minke whale in my pickup while driving home one night, just north of Belle Fourche, South Dakota. Son of a bitch breached over a guardrail and flopped down right in front of me before I’d even had a chance to hit the brakes. Hit him square in the blow hole and mangled the whole front end of the truck. The fishy bastard just dusted himself off and fucked off into the night, making them wierd ass whale noises at me the whole time. Ever since that night, I take the long way home.

People who think that are creepy and weird.

214 years ago, since I’m an insufferable pedant.