I must say, this is actually so close to reality it's kinda scary

The Differential Theory of Special Operations Forces (Snake Model)

Upon encountering a snake in the Area of Operations (AO):

Paratrooper: Kills the snake.
Armor: Runs over snake, giggles, and looks for more snakes.
Infantry: "Look, a putty cat. Come 'ere kitty . . .Ouch! Hey, that's not a kitty cat."
Infantry (alt): "Ugh! Me see snake. Me like snake. Ouch! Me no like snake."
Army Aviation: Has GPS grid to snake. Couldn't find snake. Back to base for crew rest and the club and pink gin.
Ranger: Plays with the snake, then eats it.
Ranger (alt): Assaults the snake's home and secures it for use by friendly snakes.
SEAL: Expends all ammunition, several grenades and calls for naval gunfire in a failed attempt to kill the snake. The snake bites the SEAL then retreats to safety.
Artillery: Kills snake, but in the process kills several hundred civilians with a massive fire mission reminicent of Stalingrad. Mission is considered a success and all participants are awarded Silver Stars. (Cooks, Mechanics, Legal Clerks etc.)
Recon: Follows the snake and gets lost
Combat Medic: Wounds the snake in first encounter, then feverishly works to save the snake's life.
Special Operations: Makes contact with the snake, builds rapport, wins its heart and mind, then trains it to kill other snakes.

As I said, so close to reality, it's kinda scary people. And the Medic's one is spot on, IMHO

This is just bound to make me a millionaire, I just know it

The perfect crib for the perfect kid. Look, I know some people will think it cruel to put electrified barbed wire entanglements on the kiddies' playpen, but hey, just think about all of the 'special mum and dad moments' that won't be ruined by Junior (or Juniorette) climbing out.
Think of the savings in psychiarists' fees later in the tots' life also.
As someone who's mother assures him that she thought Satan had inpregnated her by the time he was three (sorry dad, the milkman, and that nice Italian gent who sold fruit door to door, but it probably was), I can see not only the applications, but more importantly, the profits.
Sweet, sweet profits.
Also, if you happen to be a westy breeding machine, it means that when little Slappelle grows up, she's already used to the bars, wire, etc. Hell, if you can borrow a neighbour's German Shepard to wander around the crib growling occasionally, it will complete the indoctrination, and make any period of incarceration she suffers so much easier to bear.
That's right people, Shayne H products, making life easier for all.
I could become the "Big Kev" of baby products with this one, trust me. Investors please email your contributions to: Itsascamandyouwillberippedoff.com.au.

Okay, I am now in love, and must travel to Bavaria before someone else gets her

What is there not to like in this photo? The answer, Mein Herr, is absolutely nothing.
The language barrier might be a problem, but since I can order a beer in 18 languages (including the hard to master, but fun to learn drunkenese), we will understand each other perfectly.
"Oh fraulein, fraulein, where for art thou fraulein?" (apologies to that long dead english fellow who used to write plays and sonnets about boys).
Sure, she would probably nurse me into ill health through a diseased liver, but hey, I have always believed in making compromises in relationships.

Love hurts, but so does hitting yourself on the thumb with a hammer while DIYing

I started this year off with my ex-girlfriend telling me that she's finally started seeing someone else, and I never cope with that well.
I am the kind of person who is only truly satisfied if my ex-girlfriend:
a) dies,
b) turns gay,
c) has their vagina sewn shut, or
d) is fired into the sun from a large
cannon.

That said, if I ever meet this guy, I will be a gentleman, and say only "listen you pommy git, I'm better in bed than you are. The only reason she's with you is because I'm terribly irresponsible, hopelessly unmotivated, smell like beer and cigarettes all the time, am poor and unsettlingly prone to having manic fits where I write long, rambling posts like this one blaming all of my problems on someone that hasn't been a part of my life in 12 months.
In summation: you may be English, and have a 'cute' accent, but I have the better you know what, pal.
It's just every other aspect of my life, appearance, and personality that comes up short".
Or perhaps I won't say that.............................

The Furry Weapon of Mass Destruction (FWMD) has finally posed for her mug shot

Well, I can certainly see it, but perhaps others can't. Please note the downturned ears, the tongue hanging out, all doggie versions of "I'm innocent G'vnor, it was definitely the neighbour's collie what dug up the yard".
But note the eyes, looking slightly at the camera, in a "Man, I hope I'm going to pull this off, perhaps a little wag of the tail or two might get me out of this yet".
Well, as it happens, she did get out of it, and somehow ended up eating chicken that night.
Yes, I am such a sucker sometimes. And the mutt knows it, unfortunately.

Single male, athletic, GSOH, seeks bevy of ladies for fun times

If ever there was a kangaroos single's scene, this fellow would have to be the king of the castle. Just look at that smouldering glance, the body language that says ' hey, I could just laze around, or I could spring up and hop away at 40 Kph'.

Cats, the danger that lurks unseen in your home, you have been warned

Okay, so what do we notice about this series of photos? Obvious to blind freddy one would think. You have photos of three men who killed more people than cancer, and the cats that they have been reincarnated as.
This proves the point long held by the Furry Weapon of Mass Destruction (FWMD) that all cats are inherently evil, and should be growled and barked at, and when possible, chased to within an inch of their evil little lives.
Think about the personalities of the murdering nutjobs above and the similarities displayed with cats.
Dictators want everyone to treat them as if they are the most important people in the world, as do cats. Point made, I think?
How many other mass murdering pyschos have been reincarnated as cats? No wonder they always look frustrated, unable to carry out their evil plans due to the distinct lack of thumbs, not to mention minions to do their bidding. That's why they sleep so much, dreaming of controlling the minds of thousands, instead of that little old lady who feeds them and forces them to display affection for that food.
One can only hope that it's not too late for society to wake up to this threat, before they do find a way to control us all, and it's "Heil Tiddles" and invading Poland again.