Vanilla is a product of Lussumo:Documentation and Support.
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One of my mates proudly came back from his tattoo artist a few months back, showing off the little extra work he'd decided to have done on the spur of the moment. "Look," he said, showing off this flowery Arabic script on his lower right arm, "it says 'Destined to Die!'".
Needless to say, it's pretty embarrassing to have been kicked out by Canada of all places.
My friend went out with a crazy girl for a couple of weeks (I warned him that she was crazy, but he didn't listen) and broke up with her after realizing she was nuts. He took it easy on her, but she went loopy and tried to use eye-lasers on him.We discovered soon after that the girl’s mother is even crazier and she began emailing him, telling him that he was worse than both Hitler and Hannibal Lecter and calling me his "bookaholic butt buddy". (this is a woman we had both met for a total of maybe ten minutes)After a brief back and forth via email, she called the Secret Service and told them that I had threatened Bill Clinton so they sent a couple of agents over. I had a nice three hour chat with one of them while the other (huge) agent poked around my apartment, scrutinizing my books and taking notes and such. The Secret Service didn't seem too fond of readers to me. (I will admit that when they came in there were large amounts of pornography and a number of firearms strewn about the living room)They asked me if I was a vampire or if I practiced black magic. They wanted to know about my previous jobs and relationships, and who I associated with. The one thing they didn't ask me was if I had threatened Bill Clinton.After they had me take off my shirt and pants so they could take photos of my tattoos, and telling me that "You’ve been warned”, they went to visit my former employer and my mom. They asked my mother if I was in a militia or a cult and to give them a call if I started acting strange.I didn’t leave the apartment for about a month, and I still don’t like people coming in my place.Ah, democracy.
Mark Miller had slept three hours in his parked car after a long night at an anime festival in a downtown hotel.Then, the call. A number and a voice he didn't know."Hey Mark, we're at your dorm," the voice said. "We want to talk with you.""Who are you?" asked Miller, a physics freshman."Law enforcement."Two men met him in the hotel lobby and flashed badges: FBI. Secret Service. The questions began."Do you belong to any student activist organizations?""Have you ever thought of joining any student activist organizations, like UT Watch?"He wasn't an activist. Nor a suspect or the messenger of a bomb threat, for that matter.What interested the agents, from Austin's Joint Terrorism Task Force, was an open records request he filed with UT administrators for information about the underground campus tunnel system.
Private security is WAY worse than public cops as far as civil rights and violent excessiveness