Here are some terrifying pictures of a large adult python consuming a salt water crocodile. And this folks, is why I’m staying the hell away from Australia.
What you are seeing in this video is the very honed and perfected manipulation technique of a psychopathic serial killer. For those unaware, the interviewer, James Dobson, is the founder of Focus on the Family, a socially conservative think tank based in Colorado Springs, who went on to use this interview to “prove” the morally degenerative effect of pornography. Ted knew this and attempted to pull at the Christian heartstring of the man. It’s blatantly obvious throughout this whole interview that he is running game with this man’s mind. Notice how he doesn’t want to talk about the underage girl he tortured raped and killed when the man brings it up. Everything Bundy is saying is a lie. He’s telling him what he wants to hear in hopes of avoiding his execution. Him being a regular, happy, and adjusted before porn is a complete lie as well. He had a very degenerate childhood and family. Ted meticulously stalked, bound, raped, cut, sliced, tortured, beat, suffocated while looking them in the eyes, killed, then fucked the corpse of these women. Don’t be fooled for a second.
The only way to understand the full evil of Saddam’s regime is by living as one of Saddam’s sons. This is exactly the type of life, Latif Yahya, an iraqi soldier, had the fortunate (or unfortunate) to live. Though Saddam Hussein was hanged in 2006, details of this dictator’s reign are still coming to light up to this day.
Who was Latif Yahya? He was a school classmate of Saddam’s own soon and they had similarities in facial features. Something that the dictator’s son was going to exploit in future. Days went by and then years, they were full grown men now. Latif was serving as an officer in the Iran-Iraq war.
Things were going good for Latif until one day he was called to Baghdad at Uday’s place. Uday then called Latif Yahya to his room and said:
“I want you to be me,” the President’s son declared, “Everywhere, always. You will be my fidai, my double.”
“You will be the son of the president under my direction. You’ll have the most beautiful life on earth. Everything that’s mine will also be yours. You’re going to be my brother.”
It seemed a bit suspicious to Latif so he politely declined the offer. Little did he know that it was not an offer but an order.
“What? You don’t want to be Uday? “ – thundered Uday.
Right at the moment, two body guards seized the former Iraqi soldier and dragged him from the room, He was blindfolded and thrown in the back of a car. What unknown location he was taken to, Latif never knew. All he remembers is that it was a psycho-torture cell, the walls were red and so was the roof. There wasn’t enough room for him to stand properly because his the roof was too low and not enough room to lie down, all he could do was sit in a squatting position and stare at the only thing he could – the red color. There was not even a bucket for waste, let alone a toilet and eventually Latif had no option but lie in his own filth. Seven days went by and then Uday arrived and said to Latif
“Latif. How are you? You’ve changed your mind haven’t you? I’ll sic my dogs on you and have your sisters raped if you refuse again.”
Latif was traumatized already, he got that how much of a sick freak Uday Hussein was, there was no option left for him and the only thing he could do was accepting the offer. It was the year 1987 and Latif had just started playing as Uday’s double.
Saddam himself had several doubles who would take his place and face death in place of Saddam himself. One had already been assasinated in 1984. These unfortunate souls were chosen usually from the Hussein family, anybody with the resemblance. Uday couldn’t find anybody resembling him until he remembered his old classmate, Latif Yahya.
Latif had to live like Uday, Eat like Uday, Talk like Uday, Walk like Uday, BE UDAY.
When the police are scared and won’t even do anything, that’s how you know you got to get the fuck outta there. Take it from Brentbucci:
So, I live in Oakland, on the corner of high street and San Pablo, one block from International Blvd. I can tell you firsthand that the police, local government, and even the people that live here are tolerant of behaviors and living conditions that would shock most Americans. From rampant gang violence, to regular break-ins and robberies (on average, two cars get broken into at my complex every month), the worst areas of Oakland are similar to a third world country. The irony is, within three blocks of my neighborhood in the other direction is the city of Alameda, one of the most well funded, highest income areas in the east bay.
Our Mayor should be held responsible for this. She has failed us. Crime is up 400 percent under her tenure. Our police force is corrupt, understaffed, and underfunded. Our city streets are cracked and falling apart. Our city zoning laws for derelict and destroyed houses are never enforced. Trucks constantly use our neighborhood to dump loads of trash, which creates more problems. Oakland’s leadership does not care about us. They care about attracting business to downtown. The sad truth is that the poor areas of Oakland would be better off as a separate city. At least then, we wouldn’t have to deal with the beaurocratic, corrupt, and inefficient city officials and infrastructure that is holding us back.
There are no easy solutions, however nothing is working.
Masks worn by doctors during the Plague. The beaks held scented substances
Children in an iron lung before the advent of the polio vaccination. Many children lived for months in these machines, though not all survived. c. 1937
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