I had a dream!

Well Tam revealed a dream she had on her blog.

I had a totally hinky dream around last Saturday.

Originally I wasn't going to share it, but Tam's revelation gave me the courage...

My dream was of a younger and stronger me, as an onlooker as a Captain -who looked like my late girlfriend's late father- plead with two stone faced Colonels, played by Alan Alda, and Wayne Rodgers, (whom I always despised for their politics) for the opportunity to rescue his men. They stood in their Korean War era Class A uniforms the picture of detached arrogance. As they were about to order him to forget the notion, I took out my pistol and shot both of them. I exchanged my CZ-52 for Hawkeye's Beretta 92, just as Dwight David Eisenhower walked in, (not Tom Selleck, actual Ike.) "They were about to shoot the Captain and myself Sir!" I fibbed to the Supreme Allied Commander. "Really! Why does he have your sidearm?" I put on my total innocent look. "He took it from me a week ago! Sir!" The General took the pistol from the holster, handed it to me. "You better take it back. You'll need a weapon you're comfortable with. You'll be going with the Captain to retrieve his men." He handed me my gun and both Hawkeye, and Trapper's gunbelts. "You'll need these more than they ever did." Captain Loren asked "What of them?" "After you leave, they will have been discovered in a wrecked HumVee. Major, you might want to lose that barrel, before you return to base." I made a note to switch it out before I left.

As I walked out the door, following Captain Loren, I woke up.

The dream, unreal as it was, left such an impression on me, I seriously considered changing out the barrel on my CZ-52. If Alan Alda had carked during the night, I'd have done it on the spot.

And used the old one as a welding rod!

Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth!

Marko on his site was musing on non-folding knives, only person I ever met who carried a sheath knife, was a guy I'd have a problem with him being armed with dry grass.

As Tam said, "How much do you want to spend?". In my case, that's "How much do you want to lose?". I finally set a limit of $25 plus tax. I carry a Gerber Evo. Some bastard walked up to my front porch, and grabbed the USPS package containing my Cold Steel Kukri. From Ebay. So I guess I'll make that figure $30. I'm keeping a sharp eye out for someone carrying my hand powered brush hog.

Yeah, the reason I bought a Kukri was I wanted a machete that would last me the rest of my life. Of course at the rate I lose knives, I should have known better!

I just checked the new design of Marko's Cold Steel Mini Tac on ebay. The new design sux rox! I would like to find who coined the term ‘ergonomic’ and see if his rear end is ergonomically adapted to my size 13 converse shod foot!

Home Again, 1 week After!

After all the aches and pains last week, I'm not so keen on traveling down south again. I've acquired a sweetheart, and I'm torn between a logical reluctance to build a relationship so soon after losing Denice, and wondering if I'd be losing a good thing if I decided to wait.

I hope

As I sit here in my sister's South Carolina Cottage, the clock on my computer reminding me that my family in Spokane isn't even awake yet. Disconnected from everyone and everything in my life. You form connections with people, connections that are broken, casually, or forcefully, but all will eventually break.

The Ultimate Oxymoron

not Military Intelligence

not (insert stupid corporation here) Cares!

the ultimate oxymoron is.

Necessary Evil!

Let's all band together and see if we can do without the 'Necessary Evils" in our lives.

small victories

Well Yesterday I prowled the Goodwill Industries store. For the princely sum of one half dollar, I replaced my dead power supply. It was meant for the HP Printer and is almost half the size of my netbook. It's a neat green LED for the computer end. (In case you misplace your little flashlight.

Now what will I do with that ebay special winging it's way to me?

Brigid come home!

Like the comely Brigid, I am on the road, South Carolina to be exact. Unlike her I am not inspired to poetry, only a little sulfurous name calling upon the corporation in China that manufactured a cheap and suicidal replacement charger/power supply for the Acer Netbook. It went pop earlier tonight, I got a replacement winging my way from a guy in Indiana. I just read my favorite blogs, read the comics, watched a little porn. I have a similar story from the dawn of computers that I'll share when I'm plugged in to a wall outlet again.

I know that if I vanished tomorrow, it would be ages before my absence were felt or even noted. but could those of you who do note my existence out here in Blogland, say a little prayer for my safety and comfort!

Here is scenic South Carolina, I met the delightful lady that my sister Susan is trying to fix me up with, her name is Beth, and it isn't going to happen. Beth is a darling girl, but I'm still hurting over Denice. Helping my wounds to heal is too extreme a task to lay on her shoulders.

It's 6:30am South Carolina time, 3:30 in Spokane, Washington.

I don't often agree with Whoopi Goldberg

but she hit the nail right on the blockhead this time...

If some religious clowns upset my loved ones funeral to push their agenda, I'd ask the honor guard to direct the 21 gun salute into the 'Protestors'.

But that's just me!

this is the young man!

I love this guy, he's crazy like me.

'Cept they pay him better for his crazy!

Drive by Shooting

Not Recently thank goodness!

No this was back in the fuzzy dawn of prehistory.

Probably about the time Tam's Bikini Pic was taken.

My parents were watching either the second or third episode of

Homicide, Life on the Streets.

I was already bored to tears, and was contemplating running out,

and downing a beer or six. I was staring out the window at a world

dark, indistinct, but way more interesting than a box on the wall

depicting 31 flavors of personal angst.

When what to my terminally bored gaze should appear.

But a love lorn Bubba, whacked from too much beer.

Beside the waitress' truck next door, he stopped with a clang. (not really)

And fired a pistol, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang. (yes! Really!)

I'll print this out and try to give the whole story the Clement Moore treatment.

but for now, I sprang out the door -unarmed- with a herking big flashlight! I've been told I have guts where brains should be. The perpetrator drove his station wagon down the street and fired a couple shots into the air as he turned the corner. After a few minutes a bunch of neighbors came out including the waitress who staying at our neighbors' house. She was so upset that someone would discharge a pistol into her truck that she immediately relapsed into her former two pack a day habit. It took almost three hours for the police to show up. In Spokane, when seconds count, the police are three hours away. To add insult to injury, we had found the discharged cases, carefully used a stick to pick them up and deposit them in a zip lock bag so they wouldn't be run over by traffic. The officer accepted them, poured them into his pocket, and stood playing pocket pool with them, obliterating any chance of fingerprint evidence, whilst he listened to our statements, making no efforts to note times, descriptions of the car, or even the direction the assailant departed.

This was the first time I gave serious thought to obtaining my Concealed Permit. Though it would be fifteen years later that I did, and a year beyond that that I started carrying.