Friday Gun Pr0n #59

Today's Gun Picture is yet another interesting gun in the armory, one I came across whilst retrieving last week's Model 1897.

I'll be damned if I know what this even is - it's a spanish knock-off of a S&W early model hand ejector, looks to be roughly copied from the old "I" frame. It's a six shot .32 S&W with a 5" barrel and a cheap nickel plating job that's flaking off around the cylinder release.

This was also one of the guns that I inherited from Grampy. Grampy had a lot of old guns in his possession, some received as "payment" (partial or full) for tabs run up in the diner he ran in the 1930s and 40s. Grampy wasn't someone to let people go hungry, whether they could pay their bills or not, and was willing to work on the barter system if that's all someone had to offer. He obtained a number of goods and a handful of firearms in this manner, often writing off a debt of hundreds for a gun worth $20. That's who he was.

And that's one of the reasons I'm proud to carry his name; why I remain in Massa-fucking-chusetts despite the ass-raping that conservatives and/or gun owners frequently receive in this state. My house sits on land my grandfather bought in the last century, land he owned for feed stock for his animals and, when things got tight, to sell as needed. He held a few acres in reserve for his family, and doled them out as his kids (and those of his brothers) grew up and moved out on their own.

When it came time for me to build, there were only a handful of lots left. Of the three of us that got land, I was the only grandchild to build a house - the other cousins waited for my grandmother to pass away so they could sell to developers.

They are dead to me.

There may come a time when I can convince the Mrs. to move. But as long as I can look in my gun safe and see the guns my grandfather gave me, as long as I can reconnect with the man whose name I carry (and passed on to my son); there's incentive to stay.

It'd be a damned shame to let the filthy communists win this one.

That is all.

Falling... With Style

Swiss Man Flies With Own Wings

Saw this on the news this morning, and the very first thing I thought of was "He looks like Buzz Lightyear!"

Yeah, I've seen "Toy Story" and "Toy Story 2" about 700 thousand times...

Next thought was "that's really fuckin' cool!"

Followed by "I'd be as likely to try that as I would to have monkeys fly out of my own ass, then carry me to the polls to vote for Obama"...

That is all.

34%...

That's the number of new moms a study shows to have had affairs.

Hmmm. There's a least 3 hot MILFs at the daycare... (BAD Jay! Bad! Bad!)

Here's what I don't get, though:

Nineteen percent of moms revealed that they have sex once a week and 32 percent said they have it more often than that; seventy-seven percent said they want to have sex more frequently. Sixty-nine percent of those surveyed said they are
willing to have sex to please their husbands even when they are not in the mood.

Seventy-fucking-seven percent of all married women don't know how to get more sex out of their husbands? Here's a hint: ASK. "Honey, you want to..." should be about all you need to say.

And 69 percent? I call shenanigans...

That is all.

Milestone...

Almost missed this one.

This past Saturday was a pretty significant milestone for me. It represented a full year of maintaining my goal weight - I went below 180 lbs. the second weekend in May of 2007, and was happy to note that I am *still* at that same weight a year later.

This is nothing short of monumentous for me - I've never kept any weight off for more than a couple of months or so. I'd done so-called "yo-yo" dieting off and on through high school, college, and after, more or less giving up when I hit 30.

Apparently changing how I ate was more important than changing what I ate. Who knew?

That is all.

Monday Morning Musings

Man, I blinked and another weekend flew by...

On that note, some random brain drippings thoughts before I jump in the fire...

• 47ºF leaving the house this morning. Not quite the low 30ºs of last week, but still way too freakin' cold for mid-May... I am not a happy camper that my furnace is still kicking on, especially with home heating oil approaching $4/gallon. I'm going to have to look into heating my house with something less expensive, like Faberge eggs or spotted owls...

• Saw on the news this morning that Boston Mayor "Mumbles" Menino is spearheading a "Bay State Bike Week". Two things immediately sprang to mind: 1. Where does the mayor of Boston get off proclaiming a state-wide anything; and 2. They claimed that Mumbles was riding his bike in this event, yet provided no footage. One can only surmise that they couldn't keep hizzoner upright long enough for stills...

• Speaking of bike week, only one month until Laconia. Woo Hoo! Time to give the ol' scoot a cleaning and a shining...

• Last up: Idiot. Someone please explain to me exactly how one forgets that one has a loaded gun in their carry-on luggage? I mean, a bottle of water, maybe. A tube of toothpaste, sure. A loaded gun? Idon'tfuckin'thinkso... And besides that, a .22LR? Dude, seriously...

That is all.

Chip Off The Ol' Cup...

Couldn't resist sharing this one...

So I'm watching my son's baseball game, and he's the catcher this inning. It's really cute seeing him all swaddled in full catcher regalia: Face mask, chest protector, knee pads, etc.

One of the "pitches" (it's AA Little League - the coach of the team that's up batting does the pitching) came in a little low and hit him, well, below the belt. Fortunately, the chest protector is cut low for just such a situation, so he was unhurt.

He turns, looks into the bleachers at me, and yells (at the top of his lungs)

"Good thing I was wearing my cup, dad!"

It took me a full two minutes to stop laughing...

(Back story: The first time he wore his cup to practice, he HATED it. It didn't fit right. It chafed him. It made him look funny. Yadda yadda yadda. I tried to impress upon him just how important it was to wear the cup, and we finally hit on a compromise - it involves multiple layers of undergarments; it's best not to ask...)

That is all.

Friday Gun Pr0n #58

Here's something from the waaaay back corner of the safe:

Yes, that's an honest-to-goodness, original Winchester Model 1897 pump-action shotgun. It's chambered in 16 gauge, which is unfortunate as it's rather hard to find (okay, it's hard to find cheap, like 12 or 20 gauge). The serial number puts the date of manufacture sometime around 1911-1913, which is about right.

What's interesting is the 24" barrel - most sources put the standard 16 gauge barrel at 28", with 30" and 32" options available. The "trench guns" of WWI were 20" barrels. I haven't been able to find any information on 24" barrels, though. In any case, this is a really cool old shotgun, a Browning design that looks as good today as it did over 100 years ago.

Might have to pick up a repro (with bayonet mount, natch) in 12 gauge as a shooter...

That is all.

Non-Friday Gun Pr0n...

My favorite librarian posts about her first pistol, a Bersa .380.

Ah, the .380 ACP. What a versatile round. I've got a teeny-tiny Kel-Tec P3AT that carries 6+1 rounds for a grand total of like 11 ounces, all the way up to a Makarov that carries 8+1 rounds at what's gotta be at least 2 pounds... I've also got a 13+1 Browning BDA, and Dad's got a Sig 232 (6 or 7+1, I don't remember off the top of my head).

Shot placement is key with the .380, as it's at the lower end of what I would consider acceptable power for a self-defense piece, so practice, practice, practice Breda!

And congrats. There's nothing like your first gun. My first firearm was a Ruger Security Six in .357 Magnum. My first pistol was the Russian Makarov in .380 ACP - so we got the same caliber for our first auto-chucker. 'Course, I got mine back when you were in high school... ;)

That is all.

Still A Teenager @ Heart...

...especially when there's 345 HP at the press of a pedal...

Come to a 4-way stop, I commit the cardinal sin of actually, y'know, stopping. My penance, apparently, was for the drivers on the other three roads to completely and utterly ignore the rules and continue to proceed, most of them without even slowing down. After three cars from each street had cut me off, I had had enough.

Authoritative application of the gofastinator, in reduced-friction environment, produces an effect known as "fishtailing". Sometimes confused with the old-school affectation known as the "posi-hop". Broke the rear tires loose, shimmied the back end side-to-side, then a split-second off the gas to bring it back straight and get-r-gone.

The look on the yuppie in the Saab's face was priceless. Worth the extra $3 in gas burned...

Yep. Deep down inside, I'm still 16 years old.

That is all...

AAAUUUGGGHHH!!!

Okay. Getting my ass kicked today. Trying to cram 8+ hours of work into 6 hours, with a 1.5 hour meeting to kick off the day. Ugh.

My brain hurts. Need coffee. More later, perhaps. Bringing the boy to a Cub Scout outing at the local fishwrap newspulper of record, so might have interesting anecdotes later. Or I may just jump into the paper rollers. Haven't decided yet...

That is all.