Brain in a jar time!

Yesterday was my Dad's 78th birthday.

Astonishingly.....

It was the birthday of the lady across the street...

Annnnnnnndddddd...

The lady next door.

All I can say is that some people must have gotten romantic in November....

Get'cher Poodle Shooters!

this is on gunbroker right now.

I'm gonna shop around for an upper or two.

We all gotta help each other out in these troubled times....

Back to School

Well I waited for Wally's to have a sale.

I need about a couple of dozen plastic boxes.

Ammo, small tools and such.

Maybe another 10 plastic bins.

Probably some several college ruled notebooks.

Unlike Marko and Brigid, I have no need for a easily portable

medium to write upon. those school notebooks do good for chapters.

Everything old is new again!

Except my 48 year old ass.

I was watching Future Weapons, they are talking up Bottle Necked Pistol Cartridges like they are the newest, latest, wowest, thing!

Bull Cookies!

the oldest round is the .30 Mauser similar to the 7.62x25mm. and it originates in 1896.

This used to be sold in the gun shows in the form of the Tokarev and the CZ-52 with the salesman from the gun store exulting, This is the only round that will go through body armor. I grabbed a much-abused kevlar panel and tried it out,

As Meat Loaf sang "Two out of three aint bad"... Unless of course you were wearing that panel.

I'm sure with pointy rounds, molybdenum coated if necessary, that could be made into three out of three.

I fear a future of kevlar-wearing, kool-aid swilling, hard, pipe hitting, zombies.

and like Torchwood, I will be ready!

can you help out a fellow american?

Breda, also known and loved as "The worlds most dangerous Librarian", is trying to win a contest.

The Firearm Blog, in conjunction with The Lucky Gunner ammo sales are hosting a blog contest.

Now over on Breda's blog in the comments I started a buy .380 ammo for Breda pledge drive, the idea being that if 20 of up ponied up $20.00, she could buy a 1000 lot of ammo, and we'd be spared her waif-like rendition of Oliver Twist. "Please Sah, could I have some more"!

Just Kiddin' Breda Darlin', you know we all love you.

I'm one to talk, can anyone tell me which Bogie movie I quoted in the title?

If I win this contest, I'll have it shipped to Willoughby Ohio.

For better or worse, when I think of Breda and Mike, I think of that Twilight Zone episode.......

first watering

well, the ten-year-old sprinkler system has given up the ghost. I figured a week of hot days were enough. I didn't blow out the sprinklers last year, and we had a fairly mild winter, In snowfall. The temperature snaps were enough to turn my PVC into shards. This is what the contractor wanted to plumb our house with. I'd have made the bastard re do it in iron pipe myself. Dad insisted upon copper. Hell, ours was done in the 70's and 80's with lead bearing solder. The stuff done in the 90's I've had to re-sweat most every joint. I figure that had more to do with lazy plumbers than bad solder. they now have a brush for copper pipe. I had to make due with a mesh abrasive that I could form around the inside or outside of tubing or connectors.

For now, I'll run some sprinklers around.

more government = less freedom or Hey Teacher! Leave them kids alone!

one of those email list I subscribed to by filling out an online petition sent me THIS

everyone is saying we should home-school our kids.

Sorry No!

No matter how much you struggle against our socialist overlords they come out winning.

If you home school the kids, it takes the time you use to home school them.

It takes you out of the fight, and you still end up having to pay the taxes that would partially pay to "educate" your child.

Claire Wolfe was right. I'd not want to shoot the bastards prematurely, but I'd not want to be too late to start shooting the bastards.

You'll have to make up your own mind.

my rowdy friends

A bunch of about 15 or so people who's main interest in life was downing a fifth or emptying a keg. Say what you will, and the Spokane Police Department said plenty, they were a bunch who enjoyed the moment. Not one of them would have ever struck a woman, except for the women. The women never would have struck out at a man.

I'd never even considered that anyone would. If someone told me, I'd -for a short while- make a living off this unique misery, I'd have laughed in their face.

I'm more likely to meet Jimmy Joe Bob, than one of Spokane's Finest. If you take into account that the cops are usually looking for me. For advice if nothing else.

Despite the fact that I started out an aspiring criminal mastermind, I'm usually more law abiding than the cops.

I used to rekey locks after domestic violence episodes. One time the perp showed back up, armed with knife, and demanded a key. while he tried the key in the lock, -it didn't work- I brained him. Well, I hit him hard in the head. Zombies would have starved on him. The cops showed up and asked me, politely, to stop standing over him with a hammer. I desisted, and complemented the officer on his polished manners.

He thanked me and expressed disbelief that I subdued the idiot with a vicious minimum of 100MPH tape. Wrists and ankles.

Ironically that was used as leverage to make me turn that charitable venture over to a group of extreme feminists, who later damn near beat a guy to death.

Pity he turned out to be the DV Victim.

Lawmen and Rifles - Shooting thru the tears

About 25 years ago, A country lawman befriended me, and showed me, by his own example, that I could be a law-abiding-person. At the time I was clearly on a course that would have ended me in prison, eventually.

I eventually came to the realization that, I was more addicted to driving than drinking. A fifth of rum aint never taken me down a back road to a wondrous discovery.

I also preferred to punch holes in paper, to a life where touching a firearm would land me federal charges.

My friend the deputy arranged for me to be at an informal firing range with him, in another county, the day the police came for some of my friends. He was 60 some then, and we were using his Winchester 94, in .357 to plink down some 150 tin cans, he had a deal with the reloader that supplied the shops in Spokane.

I basically joined the side of the angels after watching the forces of law and evil put some fairly innocent, but rowdy, kids through a legal meat grinder. Through my machinations, two members of the County Prosecutor's office were brought up on charges. Two more resigned. I can't take credit for the eventual electoral defeat of our County Prosecutor.

After a certain period, I resigned from my activism, and relaxed into a quiet life.

I hadn't seen my friend in about ten years, and it had been five years before that that I'd seen him regularly.

Today someone, a young kid, wearing a uniform identical to his, knocked upon my door. He had passed away about a week ago. The funeral has been the previous day. Only a handful of police from around the state, and over in Idaho, had attended. He had directed that I should receive a memento of our earlier friendship. The young deputy opened the trunk of his cruiser, pulled out a rectangular wooden box, and opened it to reveal my friends Winchester 94 .357 that had served him for over 40 years as a backup to his service revolver.

In a couple of weeks, the young deputy and I have a date at the range to see how many x-rings we can punch out at 50 to 75 yards with our respective 9mm carbines. I will need a new setup to grind out the reloads in .38 and .357 that will do my hero's carbine justice. Apparently the factory had restored it to new just before he had retired.

I'm honored that of all the people he befriended, he decided to leave me his most cherished firearm.

I'd much rather have the rifle in his hands, but I hope I can continue to live up to his faith in me.

Most deliberate provocation to fury!

Barry O is a rank amateur compared to this guy.

I was at the range plinking targets back when a twenty and a five would score 200 rounds of Winchester .45. I had beside me a butterfly net set to catch the ejected cases. Though I wouldn't reload for another ten years, the brass could be used to trade for reloaded ammo.

The guy two stalls down for me had my unbridled admiration. He was shooting a long revolver. Either .44 or .45 long colt. After he fired the cylinder, he would empty the fired cases into a three pound coffee can. I smiled and nodded at him when our eyes met. I was thinking what a practical, prudent, frugal guy he was, I had Lee Loaders in both calibers. I'm the sort who soaks up miscellaneous tools.

We finished up about the same time. While I scrambled to police up my brass that evaded my net, he cleaned the chambers and the barrel of his revolver. I picked up the final bits of brass, and watched as my neighbor with the cased revolver picked up the can with his ready to reload brass, and took it over, and unceremoniously dumped it out into the garbage can.

My shooting buddy put a cautioning hand on my arm, she honestly expected my head to explode! She put a cautioning finger on my lips. Opened her range bag, to reveal a nested series of kitchen canisters. She dug out all the 9mm and .38/.357 calibers. I took the biggest can, and dug out ALL the rest of them.

Brigid said that the guy in the T-Shirt with the ammo cans was probably the smartest shooter. I carry a metal popcorn can with a carry bail. It's surrounded by a 3 gallon plastic bucket that can carry out all the brass that anyone is foolish to throw away. and any empty ammo boxes. Handy in the carry can is a couple of fine mesh bags for those days when the brass literally covers the floor.

If the current trend continues I'll be including a brush and dust pan in the popcorn can.

In other related news, the roomie, probably with significant coaching from Dad, managed to sort out the large primer Fiocchi .45 from the small, and as an added incentive, left all 250 in five trays on the work table next to my Dillon loader.

I guess I'll let her off with a light Keel-Hauling.

Now which one of my boat owning friends would let me do that.

I'd look damn silly trying to keel haul someone in a canoe, or zodiac raft.

Dude SRSLY???

I just read through Jeff's Blog.

DAYUM

It isn't much except for a promotional bit

for my blog.....

He needs to tell more about himself.

He was the Valedictorian for his year.

I personally would love to know what happened.

IMPORTANT!

READ THIS!

Including the comments!

Less Government = More Freedom

Last week I ran out of gas, and had to hike three blocks for a two gallon can of gas. I had a couple of 1-liter power-aid bottles and a 20 ounce coke bottle. I could have hiked there with 2 or 3 power aid bottles, and hiked back. used the coke bottle with the bottom cut out as a funnel .

BUT NNNNOOOOOOO!

I had to use a DOT approved container. IE a $12.00 red container. I could have stood for that.

Except!

The spout on the can leaked extensively. I later had to wash the fuel from the side of the fender.

If I'd used the power aid bottles, disposed of them, that's all right, but the 'approved' container actually wasted fuel and harmed the environment.

Government... Who needs it?