Saturday, January 31, 2009

A bitter clinger-on!

hit the link!
play the song!
memorize the lyrics!
Hope for the dark days ahead!
No! That's not a racial slur!

I'm not really a rabidly insane gun nut!

I just wanna test out the possibilities inherent in the Steppenwolf song, "Born to be Wild"....

Fire all of your guns at once....
...And explode into Space!

Not so much Gunny as Trekkie.

more phone frolics,

I took the phone down (apart) as much as I dared. Placed it in my warming cabinet at 95 degrees. Figured that's as high as I dared run it w/o melting anything. Remember a Betty Crocker Easy Bake Oven runs very well off a 60 watt light bulb.

It seems to be working like old. A darling 20 something at T-Mobile Customer Care, (She Does!), told me she dried hers out with the car heater. I think I might improvise a warming rack there.

Since I found out the Nokia 5300 XpressMusic is obsolete, I guess I better get a replacement anyway, I don't wanna be the S.O.L. in obSOLete.

The Rise and Fall of the House of Outrageous Pt. 1

After having read "Commander" Conrad Evarts, a former radio personality and rabid journalist, stories on the joys of mobile home ownership. I could contain my nomadic desires no longer. I had read of how Craig Chilton supported himself through college driving motor homes from points A to B. Also I had a copy of Harold Hough's masterpiece Freedom Road.

To further these ambitions out local weekly Nickel Nik paper published a rag called RV Wheel Deals. For about 3 weeks a RV sales lot in Moses Lake, about 100 miles west had been offering outrageously low prices on various RVs.

I could wait no longer, I hopped a greyhound (bus) to Mo's Hole, an adventure in and of itself. I arrived, and hiked to the Used RV Lot. They told me the ad expired last week. I held a current issue, and intended to hold them to their asking prices.

I intended to score a Class C mobile home, an RV with a van front end. I was big on Dodge and Ford, having not encountered a Chevy Van except for the neighbors, which labored along under the constant care of 3 to 4 shade tree mechanics. I had almost committed to a Dodge 360 engined RV, but the salesman saw it leaking from the heater control under the hood. I should have just driven it to a hardware store and installed a cork and piece of tubing. I carry those now for future use.

Finally we settled on the beast the salesman intended to sell me from the get go. A 1980 Toyota Dolphin. We drove it around the lot, and I took it up the freeway to the next exit and brought it back. I was hooked, I could see myself living out of this for assorted SF conventions, Job searches in different cities, or just a what-the-hell road trip.

It was of course, more money than I brought, So I signed a promise to pay 380 a month for 7 more months. I drove home in my new home.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Melt down those keys!

We'll need the brass for pistol frames. I have some medallions I created with a home made arc-furnace ages ago. At the time I thought that if I could create my own terra-cotta pots in an oval shape, I could make belt buckles. I have a few dozen such buckles in the scrap pile. For small brass castings, belt buckles or badges, I can use the flower pot furnace. I thoughtfully bored a couple holes 3/4th up to serve as the fulcrum for tilting out the molten metal. I have it set in a frame where I can tilt it right out to fill a mold. I really should make two more, if I was going to turn out a continuous stream of work.

To do that, I'd have to have a steady stream of old brass. Right now, I use broken keys, key machine filings, 22lr cases, brass berdan cases, and any keys I don't recycle. If I were to do this full time, I'd scrounge brass everywhere. We had a place known as the Fernan Rod and Gun Club. Had in the past tense. patrons didn't police the brass, and the "Rod" portion known as Fernan creek lost its fish due to pollution. Left up to me, I'd single handedly clean up the site. I'd also beg shavings from every key machine in town, and every expended case not being reloaded would be mine.

Ironically I have a steady stream of 7.62X25 cases. If I ever finish these, I'll sell off a couple, of guns, keep my favorites, and struggle on with a mere thousand Boxer Primed cases.

My ultimate goal is to build a double stack magazined, 7.62X25 pistol, capable of being carried anywhere, you'd carry a 9mm with a permit.

I'd have some pictures, but my phone is still dead. Hoping to cadge a cheap replacement on ebay!

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Well Shit! I guess She'll Live!

My Roomie that is...

About 5:30 in the A-fucking-M she grabs my cell phone, offers to take it in to the charger in the bathroom. Instead of just sitting it in the cup and plugging the charger in, she elects to try to plug it in in her hand.

You guessed it! Straight into the toilet.

My initial instincts warred with each other. My id told me that if I strangled her now, I could claim heat of the moment - crime of passion...
My inner rescuer told me that, if I just dissembled the phone and let it dry out, I could save it.
The phone is back together, and working fine. May have to replace a couple of battery packs. Knew that a week ago!

I guess since I told the InTarWeb my hopes of strangling her, I'd be hard pressed to pass it off as an accident now. Besides, I'm exploring the possibility of buying an insurance policy on her...

Spoke too soon, the phone is dead, If I lose any numbers, she WILL die!

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Squeee! It's here!

I ordered a .457 -405 grain mold for the 45-70. Lee makes a nicer unit than most of my home made attempts. I'll be melting some wheel weights for my first batch. 45-70 govt, with heavy greased patches, they'll fit the .50 cal muzzleloader nicely. Traditions has a .45 in-line for cheap. I guess I could heavy load a .45 long colt round for that survivor rifle. Naah, even an H&R is limited. The highest commercial load is 335 grain for the LC. I better stick with the good stuff. My next thing will be to make a hollow point mold for .45 ACP and .45 LC. CorBon touts their hard cast hollowpoints as the best thing since sliced bread. I still like the soft lead hollowpoints.

.505 Gibbs

"What do you NEED something like that for?" Usually that phrase can close a sale with me quicker than anything. I actually wanted something a little more modern than my .54 Muzzleloading Mutant to confront the odd Cougar or Grizzly. Plus about 15 years back I read a Soldier of Fortune review of a .505 Gibbs hunt in Africa. My usual plan of attack with Grizzly is to have a 12 gauge pump loaded with magnum slugs in case the .54 didn't down him. Happened once with a .50. I still piss myself whenever I remember that hunt. Sort of like in Jeremiah Johnson Will Geer leading that "Griz" live and pissed off, into the cabin for Robert Redford to cope with. Plus as I'm getting prematurely old and frail, I want to settle wildlife issues with more certainty. Less recoil is nice, but not indispensable.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Fat Lazy and Dignified

Too many things are beneath my dignity now a days. Sadly I have to do them, because they are beneath the dignity of a minimum wage worker. Sheesh, I was the guy who'd do anything for a buck. Chopping wood, construction clean-up, hell I even ran a day care center. You can't get kids to do anything anymore. That's a bad generalization. I have access to a small cadre of neighborhood kids who will be very rich by summer's end. 'Cos I'll be putting them in touch with people who need yard work, other work, and can pay.

But by and large, most of these kids want to be paid prevailing wage, for a job they have no intention of doing. Get real Brats! Microsoft is gonna lay off 5,000 in the next year. I can get Phone Jockeys who have developer creds in office software. I'm not going to over pay for underqualified staff. I am living on Medicare and Medicaid, and I am more prepared and able to work than 97 percent of the population.

I'm one of that Baby Boomer Demographic. The people who were born between 1945 and 1965. The people who contributed the most to that Ponzi style pyramid scheme known as Social Security. The people who's requirements for medical care will break the already broken system.

I am fighting to get out of bed every morning, I'm 46 and until I get some sun I'll feel 86ed.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

CVA/Bradley MUTANT in .54 Caliber

A Scary thing, but mine own. I got the barrel off Ebay back when they still allowed the auction of such. It's a CVA Hawken. The stock is a CVA bobcat. I had to convert the barrel from flint to cap lock. It was a total labor of love though. I can pour a goodly quantity of Pyrodex, and fire a slug the size of a AA battery capable of dropping a moose, or grizzly bear. I have molds I have cast from carved wood models. After several rounds of trial and error, I can now brag molds that go from 250, 300, 400, 450, and 500 grain weights of bullets. I someday wish to sit and cast 10 pounds of soft lead into bullets. Right now I consider myself lucky to have a pound or so of wheel weight metal bullets. I also keep a few slightly tapered slugs the actual size of AA batteries. They fit nicely in a .410 carrier, and allow me to have the option of reasonable defense against Christine the Car, or any other of the automotive denizens inhabiting Stephen King's mind. I have in mind the Joker Masked Semi from Maximum Overdrive. He should have known better than to challenge the smooth ape for global supremacy.

OK! Not that smooth in my case.....

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

House of Outrageous

In a younger life, I went by the name JP Outrageous. JP for my first and middle name. Outrageous for the fact that I was in a contest to out do the events of the prior day. When stiffed at a biker kegger, I simply confiscated the keg. By an odd coincidence, the bike of the perpetrator of the stiffing, was found 30 miles away covered in silly string, and condoms.

I admit nothing.

But the blog entry from Brigid. on names caused my mind to drift.

When I was Outrageous, I lived in Castle Outrageous. A pretentious name for the house I grew up in. Striking out on my own, I bought an RV, that I dubbed Stately Outrageous Manor.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Goals for the 21st Century!

What is it about me! Women take one look at my happy fat ass, and peg me for a shiftless slacker. They seem to be massively concerned over my apparent lack of goals. I asserted that I indeed had goals.

  1. Own a really ugly truck.
  2. Have a totally loyal dog
  3. Be able to write the entire Gettysburg Address in the snow.

Now that I have had several ugly trucks, and a 1967 International Harvester Pickup that was sublimely beautiful. Several Dogs that should have had their own chronicles. And Since I decided I didn't have to write the whole damn thing at once, completed goal #3. Now I have new goals inspired by the Obama Administration.

  1. Win the lottery!
  2. Buy the entire two shelves of pistols at Joe's Sports (27 guns)

I probably will buy a few litters of puppies, and maybe a few strays from Spokanimal too!

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Idiot Please!

The tired old saw, "If you shot someone with a .25, and they found out about it, nauseum", still manages to nauseate me.

Look Sparky! If you are credulous of all those stupid stories about someone being shot with a .25, and not being seriously affected by it, by all means, go to the 50 foot target spot of the range and MOON me!

In my personal experience, the .25 falls between the .22 short, and the .22long rifle round, and it's reason for existing is that John Moses Browning, -May his Tribe Increase- was having a temporary problem making the .22LR extract in pocket pistols.

I have profited from this mistaken belief, I used to have a dozen Raven .25 pocket pistols. I've seen blued or black painted ones in the store, but the only ones I've ever seen in the used market are all of the Chromed or Nickel Plated style. Usually I got these for between ten or twenty five dollars. I got two given to me because the firing pin was broken off at the striker, and, "The .25 isn't an effective round anyway." A brass firing pin is easy to turn in a drill. Fifteen minutes max, using the old striker as a guide. Then I'm busting 4X4 boards with that "un-effective" pistol.

I think My Dad still has a Raven. Only because it was Grandpa's I either sold all mine, or gave them away. I wish I'd kept a couple.

My complaint regarding .25 ACP is as follows, A Box of .25 cal cost the same as .357 or .45. Shop around, and you can usually score a mouse gun in .22LR. Shop around some more, and you have 1000 rounds of .22LR for the price of a box of 50 .25s.

I prefer my .22LR in a ruger pistol. Just because I'm bored, and the Roomie from Hell left, I'm gonna try to make myself a pocket pistol in brass or steel. I'll start in .32 and work my way down to .22 short. If our President Elect tries to mess with the second amendment, I'll put a pocket pistol in everyone's Christmas stocking next year. If I could make rough castings from pop cans, I could make 1000, and get a Manufacturing FFL. If I make more than 5 or 6, BATFE will want to have a no-longer-friendly chat with me. I could make rifles until the second coming, and just engrave my name, address, and a serial number on them, and That's OK! but I start making pistols, and someone's gonna come looking for me.

I'm sure the Dave Gingery workshop series wasn't made with my yearnings in mind...

You Want The Truth? You cant HANDLE the TRUTH!

Truth is, we'd be better off with anarchy!

Roberta X has theorized on the subject endlessly!

I'd offer that woman marriage, but, she's too intelligent and gosh-darn functional for me!

Monday, January 5, 2009

Actually That's better than my VW right now in the snow!

I went back and played it a few times, you can only get up to 52 MPG!
18 miles per gallon

Created by The Car Connection

H/T to JPG at Expert Witness

Stupid Habit!

No not the Cigar and Courvoisier, I enjoy while dressed as a Nun!

I'm talking about unlocking the gun room.
Going in, and tossing the keys on the desk.
Then leaving, locking the door, with The Keys on the Desk!
Good thing I'm a locksmith, Who knows how to laugh!
Mostly at myself!

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Craigslist or My Right Hand....

Trying to decide on a Valentines Day date.......

I don't have to buy my right hand a fancy dinner...
Or chocolates...
Or champaign...
Or little furry toys clutching hearts.

I do have to buy it a bottle of Absorbine jr.
and a tube of Sportscreme....

No, but srsly, anyone wanna be my Valentines Day Date?
I'm buying! -Holds up boxes of ammo!
I got protection! - Holds up safety glasses, shooter's ear muffs, and ear plugs.

And if we go 2 days early, I'll spring for the Steak & Bake special, at The Maxwell House Tavern. I'll even stand you a beer or several. I don't drink anymore, as Spokane doesn't tolerate epic legends too well, but hey! The more you drink, the better I'll look!

Of course after the range, we could just skip dinner, and rub each other down with the sportscreme. That would effectively insure chastity that night....

Happy New Year Everyone!

New Years Resolutions

I usually don't do these! But all I really have is three.

Get a replacement for Chester, For Ruby's sake, mostly! She needs a pup in her life.

Lose 30 pounds down to 350 plus or minus 15.

And not savage, or pick upon, President Obama unnecessarily, until jan 20th 2010.
(If I had to deal with the current situation, I'd pack up my kids and run back to Illinois, NAY! Hawaii! -Dog, the Bounty hunter! Hide me!)

OK! One resolution bent slightly!

Y'ever notice how the Commies Always put up those big posters?