Bob Owens tells us that rush to stockpile guns is still heavily underway where he lives. People are lining up at the local gunshop and the shelves are empty.

I took my daughter to preschool this morning, and on the way back I drove past my local neighborhood gun store.

The owner was standing out front talking to the first customer in line as the clerks inside finished setting up for the daily rush. They would open promptly at 9:00 AM. The speed limit is just 25 MPH in that part of town, and I caught a red light as well, so I had plenty of time to count the number of people in line.

There were 25 souls patiently queued up from the front door down the sidewalk into the parking lot. This is the new normal, and has been for months. Sometimes the line is shorter, sometimes it is longer, and on days that it is cold and rainy, people sit in their vehicles until the store opens, but there is always a line.

I drop in every few weeks or so. Some of the more senior clerks there know my face if they can’t recall my name; this is the FFL (federal firearms licensee) that I most often used when a manufacturer transfers in a rifle or pistol for me to test and evaluate. I haven’t been inside in two weeks, but the last time I was there was the same as it has been from mid-January onward.

There are no AR-15s, no AK-pattern rifles, no M1As, no FALs, nor anything else that might reasonably impersonate a semi-automatic rifle. For that matter, there are no Garands worth their price, nor Enfields, nor Mosins.

Likewise, the glass handgun cases have largely been empties of service pistols. There are still a few, but most tend to be painfully expensive or the dogs that no one wants. Magazines for all of these are gone, of course, as are most common calibers of ammunition.

How much longer will this go on? …

In my estimation, this is the most heavily-armed the American people have ever been. I’m including the World Wars.

Denise Milani

68-year-old Particle Physicist Paul Frampton was divorced and in the market for a new wife, hopefully a woman “between the ages of 18 and 35, which Frampton understood to be the period when women are most fertile.”

And what do you know? The lucky guy had only to log onto the Internet and start playing with one dating site, and he ran into the internationally-famous-for-her-enormous-upper-endowment supermodel Denise Milani. The couple exchanged texts and photos, and fell madly in love, though the apparently-shy model kept refusing to speak to him on the phone.

Finally, Denise Milani agreed to meet the professor in person… in La Paz, Bolivia. Alas! when he got to Bolivia, the lovely lady had been unexpectedly called away to another photo shoot in Brussels, and would he do her a favor and bring her a suitcase she’d left behind in La Paz?

Peter Frampton was arrested in Buenos Aires and received a 4 year 10 month sentence for smuggling cocaine. The real Denise Milani could not be reached for comment.

Maxine Swann tells the whole sad story in the New York Times Magazine.

Hat tip to Glenn Reynolds.

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Denise Milani’s breasts web-site.

Why does it sound familiar? Stanley Kubrick used it as the opening title and closing credits theme for his last film “Eyes Wide Shut” (1999).

Hat tip to Madame Scherzo.

Via the Dish.

Pope Alarm will notify you when the smoke comes out of that Sistine Chapel chimney, and presumably tell you what the color was.

Guess the next Pope’s name and win an iPad mini

with Amy Aker and Nathan Fillion, no less. IMDB

Hat tip to Karen L. Myers.

In the opening sequence of this season’s Survivor television show, Survivor Caramoan, filmed in the Caramoan Islands of the Philippines, presenter Jeff Probst began his presentation of the program standing heroically atop a narrow rock spire, helicopters speeding past his precarious aerial perch.

Viewers naturally wondered: How on hell did CBS ever get Jeff Probst up there?

Happily, CBS has provided a 2:11 video demonstrating exactly how it all was done.

Just look at those unruly Bryn Mawr girls hazing one another in the old days!

Like most elite schools, Seven Sisters member Bryn Mawr, Katherine Hepburn’s alma mater, has certain traditions. One key Bryn Mawr tradition has always been Hell Week, a series of mock ordeals and festivities designed to provide an interlude of mid-Winter amusement as well as to welcome the freshman class to full college citizenship and to cement undergraduate ties of fellowship.

The mock hazing of freshman and (non-sexual) undergraduate festivities prove this year too dreadful to be tolerated by Bryn Mawr’s administration.

The dean of undergraduates recorded such atrocities having occurred as:

Requiring first-year students to swear alliance to Radnor over a keg.

Shouting at first-year students with and without bullhorn.

Throwing items in common room (toilet paper, cardboard). Some items thrown into audience (may have been at first-year students).

Creating potential for injury by playing wiffle beer (essentially baseball with beer cans and a wiffle bat).

Requiring first-year students to go outside for “class photo” but in reality dumping water on them. (Unclear if photo was really taken.)

Telling first-year students to stand outside, wet and some without shoes, and forcing them to listen to the Radnor goddess speech.

Smoking indoors (cigarettes during the trial; a hookah during the party).

Being on the roof (roof was accessed from second floor kitchen window).

Violating the party policy by holding an unregistered party after Trials.

Underage drinking (most sophomores and juniors are not 21) and excessive drinking during trials.

That Dean (presumably named Wormser) responded vigorously:

“It is clear from this long list of violations…that immediate steps must be taken to foster significant culture change in Radnor,” the letter states. As a result of the night’s activities, all Radnor Dorm Presidents resigned, all current Radnor customs people were relieved of their duties, and every upperclass student in Radnor is required to write a letter of apology to the Radnor first-years.

He even leaked the news of all this to the vulgar-deviant-commie blog cesspool Jezebel, which piously congratulated his pompous fraudulence for conspicuous political correctitude:

It’s definitely refreshing that there’s at least one university administration that’s actively committed to changing a culture it feels is problematic.

Regrettably, I think there is a lot more than one university administration staffed by equivalent nincompoops and adhering to the same ridiculous standards of sanctimony.

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Alumna Scarlett looks on Hell Week very differently, and testifies that it even changed her mind about the college.

Hell Week is the most complicated tradition, and very difficult to describe on paper. For me, it was the turning point when I decided that I did indeed want to stay at Bryn Mawr.

The obvious question is how were so many perpetrators permitted to survive?

Via the Dish.