Kilted13

Trauma is to EMS what The Shield is to law enforcement....except worse acting..writing...and characters it's harder to care about...but they blow shit up!! yea haw!!

Chuck Norris looks like the Brawny paper towel guy, just not as masculine...

scored a 22. The gauntlet is thrown...

Caution: Driver only carries $20 in ammunition As a matter of fact, I do own the road Visualize Whirled Peas Hang up and drive Visualize turn signal use Keep honking, I'm reloading So many cats, so little time

This has been and can be discussed ad nauseum, but lights and sirens are for EMERGENCIES http://www.compfused.com/directlink/4422/

New Mexico Should Be The Land of Entrapment. Come on Vacation, Leave on Probation, Come Back on Violation. OR Yes, we really are a state. A U.S. State. Thank you, you speak excellent english yourself

I have seen plenty of REAL EMS personnel do things wrong, backwards, etc. on Discovery Health, so if you want perfect accuracy, who the hell are you supposed to turn to? When shows like this on any subject were produced in the past, the 'experts' consulted for the show were clearly "admin" types, and the various professions being portrayed would cry foul. If the producers of this show consulted actual service personnel for this show, then any inaccuracy is the responsibility of our brothers and sisters. Besides, at least there weren't any 'ambuslaps' !!! quit yer bitchin and get that this show will not be an accurate portrayal of your job, and if it was you wouldn't want to watch it. And as for the hobby comment, it was clearly made by the type of person who tends to have contempt for our profession anyhow (docs).

This is one of my favorites, but it comes with a diclaimer: You must make absolutely sure that your victim's spouse or girlfriend has a sense of humor, and if this causes strife, you must immediately fess up. First you need some cheap vanilla scented body spray. If the clerk refers to it as 'Bunnilla' it's perfect. Second you need some body glitter. A light spritz from a distance followed by a tiny amount of glitter will create facilitate the impression of a lunch hour at the topless bar.

You Know him, You Love him, Some of you are Him. Tactical Tommy Goes to the Store From a friend in the government. I'm pretty sure I know some people like this: As I was leaving my house I stuffed my Glock 10mm "man gun" Mexican-style in my pants. My backup is a fully customized 1911 with all the IPSC add-on options in my $500.00 leather pancake holster custom made by Belgian Monks who have devoted their lives to silence and holster making. These are the ones used by SEAL Team 6, which I used to be a part of but all records of my activities were destroyed in a fire "accident". I put on my Royal Robbins photographer vest to match my pants while wearing a T-Shirt underneath reading "from my cold dead hands." That way, nobody can see what I'm packing. I had my Centennial .38 Special in my ankle holster, just like the gun rag guys carry. Lastly I had my "Covert Sniper" I.D. Card in my wallet with my "Concealed Weapons Permit Badge". I was ready for anything. I drove my "bug-out truck" to the 7-11 for some beer, 'cause you never know. It is a performance-styled Subaru BRAT with 4 cylinders of ground pounding fury. I pull up to the 7-11 store and notice a nefarious looking girl scout eyeballing me from the back of her mother's SUV. A likely cover. The mother returned to the truck and went for the keys in her purse, but I knew from my years of combat-honed instincts that she was actually making a furtive movement for an offensive weapon. I attempted a tactical shoulder roll, but fell flat on my face, kind of flopping on the pavement to avoid any incoming rounds and to make it look like I meant to do that. The store owner called 911 which is good, because I then did a roll and attempted to draw my Glock. Unfortunately, since I did not have a holster, the gun "went off" and the bullet creased my weener. But I was prepared for that and bit down on a 9mm casing to take my mind off the pain as I dove for the garbage barrel. That's when I noticed the girl scout shouting something to her mother who began to take cover. I knew they were closing on me so I drew my trusty custom 1911 Wilson COMBAT....I knew that they would be impressed with that. I then duck walked to the front of her SUV but my gut kinda got in the way and I fell on my ass, which caused me to swallow my 9mm casing. I then tried to roll to my right, but didn't want to scuff my holster, so I just threw myself into a telephone pole, but I landed on my right side anyway. So I fired one shot towards the woman's SUV to pin them down as I recovered my wind. Before the mother knew what was happening, I charged her and I threw my groin into her knee. I knew that as I vomited on the ground in front of her that I had interrupted her OODA loop, and I had the advantage now. As she ran screaming for the girl scout (I knew she was going for backup) I made for my super-charged BRAT tactical truck. I jumped into the driver seat, forgetting that I had left my rare Israeli contract AR 15 Bayonet on the seat (honed to a razors edge). I could handle it though, half my ass is an implant from war wounds. As I attempted to start my truck, police and paramedics arrived on the scene. My truck would not start and instead backfired once and caused the police to taze me. At this point, I tactically soiled myself while in convulsions. My custom 1911 then fell out the window, but I still had my Centennial .38. I knew then that I had to take out the woman with the purse. So I aimed my revolver at her, at which point the first police officer fired once striking me in the chest. Fortunately, I was wearing my level 3A body armor. I didn't want to hurt the cops, they had obviously been duped by the evil temptress who was now embracing her partner in crime and crying to the police in the background - I knew it was a ruse. I pulled out my concealed weapons permit badge and showed it to the officer who shot me and yelled out "I'm one of you guys!!!" He continued to cover me, and ordered me to drop my .38 so I laid it down. After all, I still had my bayonet attached to my ass. The cop walked toward me, and upon reading the badge maced me right in the eyes. Fortunately, my Oakley shooting glasses stopped most of the spray and I was able to rip free of the Taser cords easily. It only cost me one nipple...easily replaced. I dove for the passenger side of my truck and began to run zig zag for a ditch. Unfortunately, the bayonet sticking out of my ass slowed me down. I knew it would have to be hand-to-hand now. I knew the cop couldn't take me when I saw he merely carried a Glock 17, not a man's gun. So I immediately threw my eye into his right hook, followed by a knee into his mag light. As I lay thrashing on the ground, I took the heel of my Bates enforcer boot and kicked at the cops ankle. I knew from my classified experiences in Tajikistan that once I broke his ankle, the cop would fall down and I could "stun kick" him in the head, knocking him out but not hurting him. Apparently the cop had also been to Tajikistan, because he side stepped me and struck me in the back with his ASP baton, but my trauma plate absorbed it. I then drew my Benchmade auto knife and was promptly tased again, but I was ready for it this time and only wet myself a little bit. Next thing those cops knew, I was unconscious. That'll teach 'em. ht lets se if this works

I've often heard people in various emergency professions claim a correlation between incident volume and/or weirdness during the full moon, and I was wondering what others thought of this

Ron white does a great bit about the death penalty and Osama but it basically boils down to this: The man is spiritually prepared to die for his belief and on some level relishes the thought, so a true punishment would rob of this.

That took a lot of courage to say, and I must say that I agree with you in principle, I don't know that my baser desire wouldn't get the better of me. As for the original question, the strangers.