Democratic Underground Latest Greatest Lobby Journals Search Options Help Login
Google

Is a lobotomy painful?

Printer-friendly format Printer-friendly format
Printer-friendly format Email this thread to a friend
Printer-friendly format Bookmark this thread
This topic is archived.
Home » Discuss » Archives » General Discussion (1/22-2007 thru 12/14/2010) Donate to DU
 
pscot Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:27 PM
Original message
Is a lobotomy painful?
I watched part of the Republicon "debate" on the News Hour tonight. Unfrickinbelievable. The globe is warming, the water is rising, we're hemhorraging blood and treasure in Iraq, we're running out of oil, the pReznit is over in Europe trying to re-ignite the cold war with the Russians and these dipshits are arguing about evolution, and who has the most fervent belief in an imaginary being who lives in the sky and speaks only to Pat Robertson. And the unspeakable Judy Woodruff presents this horseshit as though it were perfectly serious stuff that somehow qualifies one of these imbeciles to be president. It's enough to make you want to go sit in the closet and kill a fifth of gin.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
Captain Angry Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:32 PM
Response to Original message
1. You left out the part where each guy sounded tougher

on how he was going to beat up Osama bin Laden, since we're not trying to get him right now.

Or how each guy was tougher about Iran to the point of preemptive nuclear strikes. Just in case.


It's maddening. I don't drink, but I might join you for a shot or two. The possibility of a president coming out of that group is enough to make me start drinking alcohol.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
rasputin1952 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:43 PM
Response to Reply #1
7. Heh.....
"The possibility of a president coming out of that group is enough to make me start drinking alcohol."


I might start thinking arsenic if any of these buffoons got to sit in the WH... :puke:
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Captain Angry Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:46 PM
Response to Reply #7
9. I'm not going to let them make it that easy to quiet me down.

One of those guys gets in, and I'll be moving to DC with a lawn chair, a solar panel, and a megaphone.

Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Pacifist Patriot Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 06:36 AM
Response to Reply #9
31. May I join you? I'll bring the sunscreen and chips.
Actually, I have a personal portably battery-powered sound system with a lapel mic.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Stephanie Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:33 PM
Response to Original message
2. K&R
Is this the only planet I can live on?
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Behind the Aegis Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:38 PM
Response to Original message
3. I don't know about painful...
Edited on Wed Jun-06-07 11:39 PM by Behind the Aegis
...but side effects include not being able to correctly pronounce "nuclear," the need to dress up in costumes, and terminal confusion, including basic motor skills, such as opening doors. :)
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
WillyT Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:38 PM
Response to Original message
4. The Door - by E.B. White
Everything (he kept saying) is something it isn't. And everybody is always somewhere else. Maybe it was the city, being in the city, that made him feel how queer everything was and that it was something else. Maybe (he kept thinking) it was the names of the things. The names were tex and frequently koid. Or they were flex and oid or they were duroid (sand) or flexsan (duro), but everything was glass (but not quite glass) and the thing that you touched (the surface, washable, crease-resistant) was rubber, only it wasn't quite rubber and you didn't quite touch it but almost. The wall, which was glass but turned out on being approached not to be a wall, it was something else, it was an opening or doorway--and the doorway (through which he saw himself approaching) turned out to be something else, it was a wall. And what he had eaten not having agreed with him.

He was in a washable house, but he wasn't sure. Now about those rats, he kept saying to himself. He meant the rats that the Professor had driven crazy by forcing them to deal with problems which were beyond the scope of rats, the insoluble problems. He meant the rats that had been trained to jump at the square card with the circle in the middle, and the card (because it was something it wasn't) would give way and let the rat into a place where the food was, but then one day it would be a trick played on the rat, and the card would be changed, and the rat would jump but the card wouldn't give way, and it was an impossible situation (for a rat) and the rat would go insane and into its eyes would come the unspeakably bright imploring look of the frustrated, and after the convulsions were over and the frantic racing around, then the passive stage would set in and the willingness to let anything be done to it, even if it was something else.

He didn't know which door (or wall) or opening in the house to jump at, to get through, because one was an opening that wasn't a door (it was a void, or kid) and the other was a wall that wasn't an opening, it was a sanitary cupboard of the same color. He caught a glimpse of his eyes staring into his eyes, in the and in them was the expression he had seen in the picture of the rats--weary after convulsions and the frantic racing around, when they were willing and did not mind having

anything done to them. More and more (he kept saying) I am confronted by a problem which is incapable of solution (for this time even if he chose the right door, there would be no food behind it) and that is what madness is, and things seeming different from what they are. He heard, in the house where he was, in the city to which he had gone (as toward a door which might, or might not, give way), a noise--not a loud noise but more of a low prefabricated humming. It came from a place in the base of the wall (or stat) where the flue carrying the filterable air was, and not far from the Minipiano, which was made of the same material nailbrushes are made of, and which was under the stairs. "This, too, has been tested," she said, pointing, but not at it, "and found viable." It wasn't a loud noise, he kept thinking, sorry that he had seen his eyes, even though it was through his own eyes that he had seen them.

First will come the convulsions (he said), then the exhaustion, then the willingness to let anything be done. '`And you better believe it will be."

All his life he had been confronted by situations which were incapable of being solved, and there was a deliberateness behind all this, behind this changing of the card (or door), because they would always wait until you had learned to jump at the certain card (or door)--the one with the circle--and then they would change it on you. There have been so many doors changed on me, he said, in the last twenty years, but it is now becoming clear that it is an impossible situation, and the question is whether to jump again, even though they ruffle you in the rump with a blast of air--to make you jump. He wished he wasn't standing by the Minipiano. First they would teach you the prayers and the Psalms, and that would be the right door(the one with the circle) and the long sweet words with the holy sound, and that would be the one to jump at to get where the food was. Then one day you jumped and it didn't give way, so that all you got was the bump on the nose, and the first bewilderment, the first young bewilderment.

I don't know whether to tell her about the door they substituted or not, he said, the one with the equation on it and the picture of the amoeba reproducing itself by division. Or the one with the photostatic copy of the check for thirty-two dollars and fifty cents. But the jumping was so long ago, although the bump is . . . how those old wounds hurt! Being crazy this way wouldn't be so bad if only, if only. If only when you put your foot forward to take a step, the ground wouldn't come up to meet your foot the way it does. And the same way in the street (only I may never get back to the street unless I jump at the right door), the curb coming up to meet your foot, anticipating ever so delicately the weight of the body, which is somewhere else. "We could take your name," she said, "and send it to you." And it wouldn't be so bad if only you could read a sentence all the way through without jumping (your eye) to something else on the same page; and then (he kept thinking) there was that man out in Jersey, the one who started to chop his trees down, one by one, the man who began talking about how he would take his house to pieces, brick by brick, because he faced a problem incapable of solution, probably, so he began to hack at the trees in the yard, began to pluck with trembling fingers at the bricks in the house. Even if a house is not washable, it is worth taking down. It is not till later that the exhaustion sets in.

But it is inevitable that they will keep changing the doors on you, he said, because that is what they are for; and the thing is to get used to it and not let it unsettle the mind. But that would mean not jumping, and you can't. Nobody can not jump. There will be no not-jumping. Among rats, perhaps, but among people never. Everybody has to keep jumping at a door (the one with the circle on it) because that is the way everybody is, especially some people. You wouldn't want me, standing here, to tell you, would you, about my friend the poet (deceased) who said, "My heart has followed all my days something I cannot name"? (It had the circle on it.) And like many poets, although few so beloved, he is gone. It killed him, the jumping. First, of course, there were the preliminary bouts, the convulsions, and the calm and the willingness.

I remember the door with the picture of the girl on it (only it was spring), her arms outstretched in loveliness, her dress (it was the one with the circle on it) uncaught, beginning the slow, clear, blinding cascade-and I guess we would all like to try that door again, for it seemed like the way and for a while it was the way, the door would open and you would go through winged and exalted (like any rat) and the food would be there, the way the Professor had it arranged, everything O.K., and you had chosen the right door for the world was young. The time they changed that door on me, my nose bled for a hundred hours--how do you like that, Madam? Or would you prefer to show me further through this so strange house, or you could take my name and send it to me, for although my heart has followed all my days something I cannot name, I am tired of the jumping and I do not know which way to go, Madam, and I am not even sure that I am not tired beyond the endurance of man (rat, if you will) and have taken leave of sanity. What are you following these days, old friend, after your recovery from the last bump? What is the name, or is it something you cannot name? The rats have a name for it by this time, perhaps, but I don't know what they call it. I call it and it comes in sheets, something like insulating board, unattainable and ugli-proof.

And there was the man out in Jersey, because I keep thinking about his terrible necessity and the passion and trouble he had gone to all those years in the indescribable abundance of a householder's detail, building the estate and the planting of the trees and in spring the lawn-dressing and in fall the bulbs for the spring burgeoning, and the watering of the

grass on the long light evenings in summer and the gravel for the driveway (all had to be thought out, planned) and the decorative borders, probably, the perennials and the bug spray, and the building of the house from plans of the architect, first the sills, then the studs, then the full corn in the ear, the floors laid on the floor timbers, smoothed, and then the carpets upon the smooth floors and the curtains and the rods therefor. And then, almost without warning, he would be jumping at the same old door and it wouldn't give: they had changed it on him, making life no longer supportable under the elms in the elm shade, under the maples in the maple shade.

"Here you have the maximum of openness in a small room."

It was impossible to say (maybe it was the city) what made him feel the way he did, and I am not the only one either, he kept thinking--ask any doctor if I am. The doctors, they know how many there are, they even know where the trouble is only they don't like to tell you about the prefrontal lobe because that means making a hole in your skull and removing the work of centuries. It took so long coming, this lobe, so many, many years. (Is it something you read in the paper, perhaps?) And now, the strain being so great, the door having been changed by the Professor once too often . . . but it only means a whiff of ether, a few deft strokes, and the higher animal becomes a little easier in his mind and more like the lower one. From now on, you see, that's the way it will be, the ones with the small prefrontal lobes will win because the other ones are hurt too much by this incessant bumping. They can stand just so much, em, Doctor? (And what is that, pray, that you have in your hand?) Still, you never can tell, em, Madam?

He crossed (carefully) the room, the thick carpet under him softly, and went toward the door carefully, which was glass and he could see himself in it, and which, at his approach, opened to allow him to pass through; and beyond he half expected to find one of the old doors that he had known, perhaps the one with the circle, the one with the girl her arms outstretched in loveliness and beauty before him. But he saw instead a moving stairway, and descended in light (he kept thinking) to the street below and to the other people. As he stepped off, the ground came up slightly, to meet his foot.

Link: http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/door.html

So... I think not... if I think at all.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
siligut Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 05:45 AM
Response to Reply #4
28. So many great replies to this thread! This story however, well, thanks. nt
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
WillyT Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 11:18 PM
Response to Reply #28
36. Thanks... One Of My Favorite Stories Ever !!!
:hi:
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Maddy McCall Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:40 PM
Response to Original message
5. One step closer to the Greatest Page.
Great rant. :thumbsup:

Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
whistle Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:41 PM
Response to Original message
6. Yes, but once the patient has had one they no longer care...
<snip>
Father of the Lobotomy


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The field of mental health suffers no shortage of weird and offbeat characters, but the Washington Post recently outdid itself for its story on Walter Freeman, father of the lobotomy. Sample this lurid paragraph for starters:

"Walter Freeman lifted the patient's eyelid and inserted an ice pick-like instrument called a leucotome through a tear duct. A few taps with a surgical hammer breached the bone. Freeman took a position behind the patient's head, pushed the leucotome about an inch and a half into the frontal lobe of the patient's brain, and moved the sharp tip back and forth. Then he repeated the process with the other eye socket."

Freeman kept records of 3,439 lobotomies he performed over his long career, and he promoted the procedure to more than 55 hospitals in 23 states. At AMA meetings, he set up graphic exhibits and used hand-held clackers to draw audiences.

In all, lobotomies were used on 40,000 to 50,000 Americans between 1936 and the late 1950s. Freeman believed lobotomies worked because the procedure severed connections between the frontal lobes of the brain and the thalamus, thought to be the seat of human emotion, which the mentally ill apparently had in overabundance. Although his theories have been discredited, Freeman was one of the few psychiatrists of his era who believed that mental illness had a physical biological component.

Freeman attended Yale and the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, then studied neurology and psychiatry in Europe. Motivated by the tragedy of wasted lives in mental hospitals, he introduced insulin shock therapy and ECT for patients at George Washington University Hospital in Washington DC, where he served on the faculty. He also had a private practice and was director of the laboratories at St Elizabeth's Hospital.

Upon finding out that chimpanzees became subdued when their frontal lobes were damaged, and spurred into action by Portuguese neurologist Egas Monisz' experiments on people, he and colleague James Watts started practicing on brains from the hospital morgue, and in 1936 they were ready for their first patient, a Mrs Hammatt, 63, who suffered from agitated depression and sleeplessness. The technique of entering the frontal lobes through the eye sockets was still far off into the future. Instead, they drilled six holes into the top of her skull.

According to Freeman, Mrs Hammet emerged transformed, able to "go to the theatre and really enjoy the play ... " She lived another five years.

Freeman and Watts claimed 52 percent of their first 623 surgeries yielded "good" results, but they did not offer a clinical yardstick for what constituted an improvement. Patients often had to be retaught how to eat and use the bathroom. Relapses were common, and three percent died from the procedure. The most famous Freeman-Watts failure was JFK's sister, Rosemary Kennedy, who needed full-time care for 64 years (she died in Jan 2005).

Nevertheless, hospitals were willing to put up with lobotomies and all their shortcomings for no other apparent reason than post-operation lethargic patients were easier to care for than pre-operation emotionally-charged ones.

In 1967, Freeman performed a lobotomy on one of his original patients in Berkeley, California. He severed a blood vessel, and the patient died three days later. This effectively brought his career full circle. During the last five years of his life, he performed no more lobotomies. He died from cancer in 1972, age 76.
<MORE>

http://www.mcmanweb.com/article-122.htm
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
pscot Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:47 PM
Response to Reply #6
11. That's what I'm looking for
The ability to not give a shit.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
whistle Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:26 AM
Response to Reply #11
17. Did you read how lobotomy is done? Still want one? Don't try this yourself!
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
bobbolink Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 08:06 PM
Response to Reply #6
35. Isn't it interesting that when the tragedies of the Kennedy family


Isn't it interesting that when the tragedies of the Kennedy family are recounted,

seldom is the fate of Rosemary mentioned.

I N T E R E S T I N G

Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
redwitch Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:44 PM
Response to Original message
8. I don't recall. Sorry.
Could you repeat the question?
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
nealmhughes Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:47 PM
Response to Original message
10. A very short snip of Kant's "What Is Enlightenment" essay clarifies (pun, not intended):
"Laziness and cowardice are the reasons why so great a proportion of men, long after nature has released them from alien guidance (natura-liter maiorennes), nonetheless gladly remain in lifelong immaturity, and why it is so easy for others to establish themselves as their guardians. It is so easy to be immature. If I have a book to serve as my understanding, a pastor to serve as my conscience, a physician to determine my diet for me, and so on, I need not exert myself at all. I need not think, if only I can pay: others will readily undertake the irksome work for me. The guardians who have so benevolently taken over the supervision of men have carefully seen to it that the far greatest part of them (including the entire fair sex) regard taking the step to maturity as very dangerous, not to mention difficult. Having first made their domestic livestock dumb, and having carefully made sure that these docile creatures will not take a single step without the go-cart to which they are harnessed, these guardians then show them the danger that threatens them, should they attempt to walk alone. Now this danger is not actually so great, for after falling a few times they would in the end certainly learn to walk; but an example of this kind makes men timid and usually frightens them out of all further attempts."

As meaningful now as it was when Kant wrote it in Konigsburg. . .Kant said it is intellectual laziness. I agree.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
fishnfla Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jun-06-07 11:50 PM
Response to Original message
12. 'bout the same as watching cnn
or shock and awe
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
whistle Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 09:38 AM
Response to Reply #12
32. Yep, good comparison!
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
emilyg Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:02 AM
Response to Original message
13. The bolt of lightning was the most interesting part.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
CC Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:08 AM
Response to Original message
14. I wouldn't know if they are
painful or not because I am a Dem. You would have to ask a repuke, I understand they are required for them.



Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
foreigncorrespondent Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:13 AM
Response to Original message
15. Re: Is a lobotomy painful?
I don't know, I never had one. Sorry couldn't resist. :evilgrin:
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Decruiter Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:21 AM
Response to Original message
16. I'm knocking off a fifth of Tito's Vodka, I'll join you in your closet, if you have
room. If not, well then I have room in my closet for you.

It is really enough to just make you want to scream. and then some. 1984, here we are.

War is Peace,
Love is War.................
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
TankLV Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:42 AM
Response to Original message
18. I don't know - I can't remember after the last one...
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
TygrBright Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:42 AM
Response to Original message
19. Lobotomies for Republicans: It's the LAW!
(Raygun-era bumpersticker)

nostalgically,
Bright
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
pscot Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 11:41 AM
Response to Reply #19
34. Republicans are not actually lobotomized
Instead they undergo a procedure called cerebro-suction. A doctor trained at a Christian medical school uses a curly straw to suck out 40% of their brain.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
truedelphi Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:48 AM
Response to Original message
20. The answer is NOT, definitely, NOT a qt of gin
Edited on Thu Jun-07-07 12:51 AM by truedelphi
It's a pitcher of Margaritas -- and a bit of homemade chile relenos.

I do not understand their fascination with religion.

Wolf Blitzer: "Question to you Mitt: Has God PERSONALLY struck you with a bolt of lightning?
And if He has, please describe"

Commotion off to the side as both Giulianni and McCain fall to the stage and attempt to grapple the microphone away from Romney

"I can answer that!"

"No I can. I can."

I keep wishing that the real Jesus Christ would rise up in a cloud and thunder his way above the audience and announce:
"Stop it! I gave up on all of you when you started this illegal, ungodly war on a country that you had already sanctioned into the Dark Ages, and whose populace is made up mostly of children below the age of 12. Shame on all of you!"
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
ben_meyers Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 12:58 AM
Response to Original message
21. I would rather have a bottle in front of me
than a frontal lobotomy.

Rosemary.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
La_Fourmi_Rouge Donating Member (878 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 01:23 AM
Response to Original message
22. Ask a frog.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Breeze54 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 01:35 AM
Response to Original message
23. Ask Tancredo and "God's Senator" Brownback!! - I think they both have scars!
God's Senator

Who would Jesus vote for? Meet Sam Brownback

JEFF SHARLET

Posted Jan 25, 2006 1:09 PM

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/9178374/gods...

Nobody in this little church just off Times Square in Manhattan thinks of themselves as political. They're spiritual -- actors and athletes and pretty young things who believe that every word of the Bible is inerrant dictation from God. They look down from the balcony of the Morning Star, swaying and smiling at the screen that tells them how to sing along. Nail-pierced hands, a wounded side. This is love, this is love! But on this evening in January, politics and all its worldly machinations have entered their church. Sitting in the darkness of the front row is Sam Brownback, the Republican senator from Kansas. And hunched over on the stage in a red leather chair is an old man named Harald Bredesen, who has come to anoint Brownback as the Christian right's next candidate for president.

Over the last six decades, Bredesen has prayed with so many presidents and prime ministers and kings that he can barely remember their names. He's the spiritual father of Pat Robertson, the man behind the preacher's vast media empire. He was one of three pastors who laid hands on Ronald Reagan in 1970 and heard the Pasadena Prophecy: the moment when God told Reagan that he would one day occupy the White House. And he recently dispatched one of his proteges to remind George W. Bush of the divine will -- and evangelical power -- behind his presidency.

Tonight, Bredesen has come to breathe that power into Brownback's presidential campaign. After little more than a decade in Washington, Brownback has managed to position himself at the very center of the Christian conservative uprising that is transforming American politics. Just six years ago, winning the evangelical vote required only a veneer of bland normalcy, nothing more than George Bush's vague assurance that Jesus was his favorite philosopher. Now, Brownback seeks something far more radical: not faith-based politics but faith in place of politics. In his dream America, the one he believes both the Bible and the Constitution promise, the state will simply wither away. In its place will be a country so suffused with God and the free market that the social fabric of the last hundred years -- schools, Social Security, welfare -- will be privatized or simply done away with. There will be no abortions; sex will be confined to heterosexual marriage. Men will lead families, mothers will tend children, and big business and the church will take care of all.

More......


You have to read this if you haven't already!!

Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
MonkeyFunk Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 02:12 AM
Response to Original message
24. Yeah
but you don't remember it.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
GreenTea Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 04:12 AM
Response to Original message
25. Not really.....
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
133724 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 04:15 AM
Response to Original message
26. It is a pain in the ASS
for a freeper......
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
SalmonChantedEvening Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 05:09 AM
Response to Original message
27. Not can recall. Time ago long was mine.
;)
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
ikojo Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 06:22 AM
Response to Original message
29. You could write Bush and ask him if his
lobotomy was painful.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
Philosoraptor Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 06:32 AM
Response to Original message
30. I'd rather have a free bottle in front o' me, than a pre-frontal lobotomy.
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
paparush Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jun-07-07 10:44 AM
Response to Original message
33. Jack says "hell yes"
Printer Friendly | Permalink |  | Top
 
DU AdBot (1000+ posts) Click to send private message to this author Click to view 
this author's profile Click to add 
this author to your buddy list Click to add 
this author to your Ignore list Sun Sep 21st 2014, 10:11 PM
Response to Original message
Advertisements [?]
 Top

Home » Discuss » Archives » General Discussion (1/22-2007 thru 12/14/2010) Donate to DU

Powered by DCForum+ Version 1.1 Copyright 1997-2002 DCScripts.com
Software has been extensively modified by the DU administrators


Important Notices: By participating on this discussion board, visitors agree to abide by the rules outlined on our Rules page. Messages posted on the Democratic Underground Discussion Forums are the opinions of the individuals who post them, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of Democratic Underground, LLC.

Home  |  Discussion Forums  |  Journals |  Store  |  Donate

About DU  |  Contact Us  |  Privacy Policy

Got a message for Democratic Underground? Click here to send us a message.

© 2001 - 2011 Democratic Underground, LLC