One Last One...

My buddy doubletrouble posted a story about fucking with an asshole on the road in response to my rant about tailgaters, so consider this my volley back over the net...

It was mid-winter, sometime in the early 1990s. At the time, I was driving a mid-1980s VW GTI with four completely different tires - two quasi performance, one M&S, and one bald POS that really had no business being on the road. I'm coming home from work one night in a blinding snowstorm, and taking it easy.

Now, you have to understand something - at the time, "taking it easy" meant that I was only going 5-10 MPH over the speed limit in spite of the poor weather conditions and even poorer traction...

Well, I've got a minivan who is RIDING MY ASS. He's literally one or two feet off my bumper. I am seriously pissed off, when he goes to pass me. Mind you, we're on a two lane blacktop with double yellows.

There is no fucking way on G-d's Green Earth I was going to let my "little GTI" get passed by a g-ddamned Caravan, so I downshift and nail it. We're side-by-side, with shit-for brains on the wrong side of the road, and there's no way his kidmobile can keep up. He drops back in behind me, flashing his lights and honking his horn.

Sure enough, the road opens up again, and he goes around me. Again. I drop a gear and nail it. Again. I'm winding my way through the gears, matching his speed, keeping him on the wrong side of the road, when it dawns on me that I'm going double the speed limit in a snowstorm in a light little car. Common sense gets the better of me, and I pull WAY over, slow way down, and let him by.

He decides he's going to teach me a lesson, so he SLAMS on his brakes.

Did I mention it was snowing like a bastard?

The van slides about 270º clockwise, then abruptly spins around 360º and SLAMS into the curb on the side of the road. Both rear tires blow out. Now, since I had slowed WAY down to let him pass me, I roll by at 5-10 MPH and just flip him the bird with both hands.

Because, as I've mentioned, I'm an asshole...

That is all.

Happy New Year!

Day 365...

So it's the last day of 2007. This normally prompts folks to indulge in some navel gazing, and the crack staff here at MArooned is no different ([ed note: he's bored]).

Overall, I'd have to say it's been pretty darn good. In 2007, I've:

*Started MArooned.
*Gotten off my blood pressure medication
*Gotten a new camper.
*Gotten a new truck to pull said camper.
*Gone on not one but two week-long camping trips with the family and not left anyone to the bears.
*Seen my son transition to first grade and "all day long" school.
*Helped my daughter weather moving to a new school.
*Maintained my weight within 5 pounds for over 6 months
*Not gotten TOO envious watching friends enjoy life in America...

I'd also like to post a retrospective "Guns of 2007" as I've done in years past. So without further ado... Here are the guns I've obtained in 2007.

First off:

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Russian VEPR in .308.

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Colt Official Police in .22LR.

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Smith & Wesson model 19-5 in .357 Magnum.

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Marlin Model 39A .22LR/.22L/.22S.

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And lastly, the pumpkinator:



Saiga-20 in 20 gauge.

---

Three long arms, three handguns. 33% in .22LR - that's a testament to the ever-increasing price of ammo... Six guns - that's roughly one every other month. Looks like I'm going to have to ramp up the acquisitions if they pass this mandatory one-gun-per-month law...

Happy New Year everyone!

On A Roll...

While I'm takin' care of bidness, I've got some blogs to add to the blogroll:

1. MedicMatthew at New Life Changes. Matthew and I had corresponded about a gun for CCW that I turned into a post, and I'm finally getting around to putting him on the 'roll. Sorry 'bout that, chief!

2. Sevesteen at the eponymous blog. He's a frequent commenter who I only recently realized:
a. Has his own blog; and
b. Has me linked there.

3. Rustmeister at Rustmeister's Alehouse, which I haven't missed because it's brand new.

4. Robb Allen at Sharp As A Marble, who I've been meaning to link for quite some time now.

So, welcome aboard everyone!

That is all.

Friday Gun Pr0n #39

Given recent events in Pakistan, today's gun picture is a model used in another famous assassination:

This is a Mannlicher-Carcano 6.5mm carbine, the same model used in the assassination of JFK (leaving aside various and sundry conspiracy theories...) It's an honest-to-goodness CLIP fed rifle, using an en bloc six round clip that drops out the bottom of the mag wel (in front of the trigger) when the last round is loaded.

(And yes, that's an attached spike bayonet on the front, which magically transforms a bolt-action hunting rifle into an eeevil assault rifle according to those suffering from bouts of PSH...)

It is, as my grandfather joked, "Italian battle rifle. Only dropped once." (He loved that joke, and considering that he came from Italy, and his father served in the Italian army, I figured it's okay...)

That is all.

Couldn't Find It...

..."It" of course being the sign on the back of my truck that says "PLEASE TAILGATE ME".

What the fuck is it with people climbing up my ass? I'm driving a three ton pickup truck here, folks. If I want to, I can stomp on my brakes, let your stupid-assed Corolla plow into me, and laugh my a$$ off all the way to the bank on your insurance company.

I mean, there's a g-ddamned cement mixer in front of me. I can only go as fast as the very large, very heavy, lumbering road pig with the big rotating ass end. Following me so closely that your headlights disappear under my tailgate isn't going to make the cement mixer magically move faster. Hell, he can't even see your stupid ass, because you're BEHIND ME. And tailgating me isn't going to speed him up, all it's going to do is piss me off.

Which, of course, means that when Mr. Cement Mixer turns off the road, I will take great delight in slowing down just to piss you off further.

Why? Because, as Dennis Leary croons, I'm an asshole. Eee-oo-dee-oooh, dee-oo-dee-ooh... And proud of it...

(Born Under A) Bad Sign...

You can just tell the ride to work is going to suck donkey balls when you get behind a Buick with baseball hats in the back window and an "Ask Me About My Grandchildren" bumper sticker...

I'm trying to imagine the conversations that must take place in the nursing homes, doctor's offices, bingo parlors, and other areas where these Q-tips congregate:

[geezer1] Hey Bill, saw you had 14 cars stacked up behind you yesterday. Good work!

[geezer2] Aw, that's nothing. Norbert had 29 cars behind him last week. Looked like a parade or something. The left turn signal left on for 7 ½ miles was pure genius

That is all...

Productivity...

Wife's working.

Daughter's at day care (we pay for it whether she's there or not, so she's going...)

Son is busy arranging his Pokemon cards (he got approximately 17 million for Christmas).

So far today, I've put away all my Christmas clothes, washed, dried, and folded four loads of laundry, and emptied every trash bin in the house.

Next up: Putting away everyone else's Christmas presents, then dusting & vacuuming.

File under "J" for the joy of being me...

Aaahhhhhhh...

Another Christmas in the rear-view mirror. We survived. Kids had a blast, and, as usual, were spoiled absolutely rotten (which is as it should be on Christmas).

And I gained less than five pounds (barely). So life is, indeed, good.

Hope everyone else had an equally fantastic holiday!

That is all.

Buon Natale

Breda has found her Christmas groove, which is a good thing.

It also inspired me:

Here's our tree in all its Norman Rockwell-esque glory. If you look really closely, you'll see that my son's presents are wrapped in Spiderman paper, while my daughter's presents are wrapped in Disney Princess paper. The tree is topped by a plain gold star, and completed by a homemade Christmas card from my son.

---

Here's our mantel:


Stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Santa Homer would stay away from the Christmas doughnuts (fat chance).

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And, lastly, just for Bruce, because he couldn't stop talking about it...


Yes, I have Star Trek ornaments on my tree. There's Worf right there, and Captain Kirk in the captain's chair, as well as Benjamin Sisko and the Enterprise D. My name is Jay, and I'm a Trekkie geek...

There's also a whole bunch of Simpson's stuff and various and sundry car, truck, and motorcycle-related ornaments. Interestingly enough, I have yet to find a Smith & Wesson, Colt, or AK-47 ornament.

Methinks there's a large, untapped market out there... ;)

---

Anyways, I've got to go stop the kids from killing each other before Christmas gets here, so let me close by offering wishes for a Merry Christmas, and my thoughts and prayers are with the brave men and women defending this country abroad on this holiday. G-d bless them and keep them safe.

That is all.

Quality Makes the Difference...

Ambulance Driver just celebrated his one year blogiversary. He comments that:

This blog is one year old today.

Counting this one, 409 posts.

I started in March. Including this post, I've put up 427 posts.

He also says:

As of this posting, 289,647 individual visits.

For me? 40,423 visits. That's an "AD is X times better than me" factor of 7.17.

Actually, I'd say that number is understated.

Congrats, AD. Here's hoping 2008 is even better for you.

And thanks to Gary for pointing you out to me...

Truth in Advertising...

I am the #1 hit on Google for "stuck in Massachusetts".

Heh.

Good.

That is all.

Blogiversary

Ahab's blog is a year old today. Go wish him well.

And if you're not already reading him, you're missing out. Even if he does want to accessorize like Barbie... ;)

I Gotta Tell Ya...

...Nothing puts me in the Christmas spirit better than being driven into a snowbank by a clueless moron...

NOTE: To the stupid bint in the grey Volvo: The only reason your car is still in one piece is that I have honed my reflexes against fucking morons from years of motorcycling. I'm used to people "not seeing" me on my Harley (apparently they're all deaf as well); however you managing to miss a 3 ton, midnight black Dodge Ram is a new one.

Grow a fucking brain, you stupid cow, because the next person you cut off and force off the road might be some deranged lunatic...

Friday Gun Pr0n #38

Here's a little something, literally:




This is a Colt Junior, a pocket gun chambered in the anemic .25 ACP caliber. It's more of a curiosity than anything else, as the Kel-Tec P3AT weighs less, is chambered in the more powerful .380 ACP caliber, and only holds one round less.



But it works well, and it *is* a Colt, after all... :)



That is all.

Life-Saving PSA...

Okay. We've recently had a rash of folks getting killed in traffic. Here's something that could save your life:

Walk on the freakin' sidewalk. No matter how much snow is there. Especially if it's late at night or pre-dawn. And you're wearing a black coat.

Some of the guys driving the snowplows have been out there for 8, 10, 12 hours straight. They're not going to see you, and a 12,000 pound dumptruck will win over a 200 pound human every single time.

Be smart. Live.

Or join Darwin's Waiting Room...

That is all.

I'm Confused...

{peanut gallery: So what else is new?}

Watching TV this morning during my workout, there's a rash of political ads (since we're on the NH border and all...)

This latest one, with Hillary! and her mom? What's the point? Because, I gotta tell ya, watching the ad with no sound, it sure looks like the message is "Vote for Hillary or her mom comes to live with YOU"...

(And, in the spirit of non-partisanship, whenever I see Mitt and his boyz cavorting in one of his ads, all I can think of is "Vote for Mitt or one of the Ken dolls gets it"...)

That is all...

Blade Bleg...

It's time I got me a new multi-tool. I've got an old Leatherman that, in the interest of being as ironic as possible, I dedicated my "range bag" tool in honor of their anti-gun leanings.

But I need (want, really) a good, solid, every day multi-tool. And I haven't the faintest idea what to look for - Gerber, SOG, Leatherman, even Victorinox and Wenger make multi-tools now!

So... What's good, what's not, what's worth the money, and what's a rip-off?

Harshing His Mellow...

I was informed by my wife last night that our son thinks I am "too harsh" in giving out punishments.

Heh.

Boy ain't seen harsh yet. Just wait until he's old enough for punitive yard work.

muwhahahahahahahaha...

That is all.

Memreeeez...

You can blame Og for this trip down Amnesia Lane™... He put up a post about marking time by the car he was driving, which is something I do as well.

Which, naturally, got me to reflecting on past cars, and marking time by them, and one particular incident that stands out in my memory...

The infamous "TGIFriday's Bar Fight".

Let me set the scene. It's Labor Day. We've just gotten back from a long weekend at a buddy's cottage in Maine, and we're having dinner out as a group. There's seven of us - three couples and one guy whose wife couldn't make it. We wind up at TGIFriday's (although for the life of me I can't remember why, other than Hilltop was too busy).

The Patriots are playing Monday Night Football. And it's "Long Island Iced Tea" night. Yeah, this is gonna be epic...

So we're enjoying our dinner at the front of the restaurant, when a ruckus starts at the back of the bar. We're a good ways off, and all we can hear is some random obscenities. Apparently there are two distinct groups, and something was said about one of the females in Group 2 by one of the males in Group 1. This did not sit well with the males in Group 2. Then all holy hell breaks loose. Someone throws a punch. Someone else throws a punch back. There's pushing. There's a full-blown bar fight going on...

Now, by this time TGIFriday's employees are coming out of the woodwork. They manage to get the fight somewhat contained, and the groups start to disperse. We're watching with increasing interest, as the fight has left the bar area and spilled into the second tier dining room. Things look like they're under control, when...

As alcohol-fueled assholes are wont to do, someone HAD to get the last word in. More words are exchanged. More shoving ensues. Punches are thrown. TGIFridays employees are orbiting the core group of combatants attempting to guide them outside.

And then... the fight spilled down the last flight of stairs. Directly into our group. We're near the entrance, and they were trying to divert the group out the front door, when everything explodes again. Only this time they're literally on top of us.

Now, bear in mind a couple of things here. At the time, I'm 6' tall, 250 pounds, mostly muscle. And I'm one of the smaller guys in our group. There's four guys in our group, me, P, D, and J. D and his wife are pinned behind the table with P's wife. J is at the head of the table, and I'm at the end with Mrs. G. next to me. P is sitting on my right. His nickname is "Dooder", short for "do-gooder" - now, don't get the wrong impression, he's not a "won't someone please think of the children" type do-gooder, but the Boy Scout, help-the-old-lady-across-the-street do-gooder.

He gets in the middle of the fracas. There's two guys in the fight that won't stop, and P is literally between the two of them with his hands on each guy's chest forcing them apart. He's concentrating on Guy 1, who had been getting the short end of the stick in the fight. I've got both eyes on Guy 2, because he's about to start something with my best friend.

Side note: I'm kinda funny in that I'll take a load of shit to my own person without getting worked up, but if you mess with my friends, look out.

So right now I'm giving Guy 2 the hairy eyeball and I'm tensed like a coiled spring just waiting for a reason to pound this dude into pudding. P starts focusing on Guy 1, backing him away, when Guy 2 starts bringing his arm back as if to throw a punch. D later confided to me that he honestly thought he was going to have to bail me out of jail at that moment, because apparently the look that crossed my face was not a shiny-happy-fun look...

I weighed my options at this point:

1. Cream the guy before he hits P. This spares P the hit, but puts me in an awkward position legally.

2. Wait for him to hit P, then cream him. This gives a valid argument for defense, but means P has to actually, you know, get hit.

3. Improvise.

I chose #3 - as Guy 2's arm came all the way back, I grabbed him by the forearm with my left hand and pulled him back half a step. With every bit of menace I could muster, I glared at him and said, "Think twice. The life you save may be your own".

This gave enough time for P to hustle Guy 1 out the door and break the momentum of the fight. Plus the local gendarmes started showing up...

The manager, assistance manager, and half the staff came over to both apologize and thank us. The meal was comp'd (natch).

And I had a cool story to tell around the water cooler at work the next day.

[Co-worker] So, how was your long weekend?

[Me] Pretty good. Went up to the cabin. Got into a bar fight at TGIFriday's.

---

That is all...

The Leader of the Band...

...has passed away.

Dan Fogelberg, RIP.

56 years old is WAY too young. Damn.

(And, in a vain attempt to prove that I'm not really a hardass, I just play one on the internet, admission time: "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me cry every time I hear it...)

Missed Milestone...

I'm chalking this up to advancing old age. I missed a personal milestone two weeks back. December 2^nd marks the 10^th anniversary of my successful Master's thesis defense.

10 years gone. A career that has almost nothing to do with my choice of study.

It's funny the direction life takes us sometimes, isn't it?

Winter Wonderland, Part II...

What a difference a few days makes... Drove Mrs. G. to work today, as we've gotten ~ 4 more inches of snow overnight and I'd rather drive her to work than get up early to snowblow the driveway.

Left the house at 6:30 AM. Street wasn't even plowed yet. And I didn't use 4WD until I had to pass the bucketloader ambling down the main road.

I forgot how much easier it is to drive in actual snow, as opposed to the partially plowed, sanded/salted to within an inch of its life stuff we normally deal with. Oh, that and the fact that we were literally the only vehicle on the road (including plows - hello?) made it a very easy commute.

'Course, Mrs. G. only works ~ 2 miles from home, so she could have snow-shoe'd into work if needed, but still...

(And yes, the children were rewarded for getting up early and getting in the truck by a morning trek to Dunks for donuts...)

That is all.

Winter Wonderland

Got ~ 6-8 inches of snow last night. It started shortly after lunchtime, and snowed until about midnight.

Work cut us loose at 3PM, which was nice. It took me over 2 hours to cover the 15 miles to home. I've heard others who took 3 - 4 hours to similar distances.

Why, you ask? Three simple words: PEOPLE. ARE. STUPID.

*Like the $80K BMW who insisted on crawling @ 10 MPH down the empty road. If you can afford a 7-series Beamer, you can afford a winter vehicle. Or, alternately, if you don't want to risk your expensive "Ultimate Driving Machine", stay the fuck home.

*Like the ignorant fucknozzle who decided to leave the U-Haul rent-a-wreck he used to bring home his new snowblower IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD while unloading.

*Like every fucking inconsiderate piece-of-shit asswipe who plows, snow-throws, or shovels the snow from their driveway or sidewalk into the street.

*And speaking of snowplows, to all the private snowplows out there: You are alive only because we are not allowed to own explosive devices. After the third piece-of-shit GMC with an 8' Fisher plow and a $20 yellow roof light from Radio Shack backed out of a driveway DIRECTLY INTO MY PATH, I would have gladly vaporized you with a bazooka could I have gotten my hands on one... I hope you all catch gonorrhea of the mouth, fuckwads.

*To the people who only brush off their windshields: Eat shit and die. First off, you have no side visibility whatsoever. Second, you create a rolling snowstorm that makes life difficult for everyone behind you. And lastly, when that snow freezes to ice and you get out on the highway, it creates a genuine hazard as large chunks of ice fly off your car onto the windshields of people behind you. Don't be so fucking lazy, shitbag.

*Lastly, to the joker in the Passat wagon traveling 20 MPH this morning: I have a ridiculously overpowered, rear-wheel drive pick-up truck. I made it all the way into work without using 4WD. There's no excuse for you traveling at half the speed limit. Just because you were dropping your kids off at school doesn't mean you have to travel the school zone speed limit your entire trip...

That is all...

Friday Gun Pr0n #37

Here's an interesting rifle from the safe:

This is a Marlin model 989, a semi-automatic rifle chambered in the ubiquitous .22LR caliber. It's a magazine-fed rifle, with a 7 round magazine as the standard issue but with eeeevil "high capacity" magazines available (that's a 15 round magazine shown). A variant of this was designated the 989M2, and it was intended to be a knock-off of the M1 carbine, to which the styling can attest.

It's a fun little shooter, but hard to find parts for and a bear to take apart for cleaning, so it doesn't leave the safe very often...

That is all.

Three Strikes...

Watched the morning news earlier as I went through my workout to find out just how much snow they're expecting us to get (6-9"!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!), and a commercial splashed across the screen for a local dentist.

Now, this struck me as odd right away. Dentists, as a general rule, shouldn't have to run ads on TV. Strike one. Second, the name: Sedation Dentistry. I dunno, but that conjures up Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors hittin' the gas a lil too hard in my mind... Strike two.

And lastly, the dentist that appears in the commercial? Mullet-city. Dude, if you can't even be bothered to get a haircut before your big TV appearance, you ain't gettin' anywhere near my pearly whites... Strike three.

That is all...

Fitness Update...

Saw the doc last night for a routine check-up. He'd been concerned because my white blood cell count had been "a little low", and wanted the test repeated just to be on the safe side (it was fine; thanks for asking...)

Weight: 178 pounds. Exactly what I weighed at my September and July appointments.
Blood pressure: 130/78. Med-free for nine months. Same pressure as the September appointment.

So I've kept my weight constant for ~ 6 months now, and my blood pressure is staying safely in the "normal" range. Life. Is. Good.

That is all.

Critter of Habit...

For the past 6 ½ years, there has been a sturdy wooden gate at the top of the stairs in our house. I put it up when my son started crawling as a precaution against him inadvertently falling down the stairs, and it has been there through his infancy, his toddler phase (Ha, BruceH, got it right that time!), his walking, and his sister's infancy, toddler, etc.

Every night after Mrs. G. goes to bed, and the house is dark and quiet, I grope my way to the office to check my e-mail and read around the blogosphere and such.

In the past few years, the gate has been partially open, closed only at night (my daughter is somewhat of a somnambulist). For the past few months, I've taken to walking down the hallway with one hand out in front of me to shut the gate before I walk into it (it is, naturally, directly at testicular height...)

Tonight I spent a good 15-20 seconds searching in the dark for the stupid gate before I realized that I took it down on Sunday...

*sigh*

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most...

Revelation...

Wow. Kicking up a hornet's nest is good for getting hits. Who knew?

Today's topic: Abortion on demand on death row: Should cross-dressing Mormons be allowed to privatize Social Security?

(Picture Eddie Murphy in "48 Hours" in the redneck bar: "Let's see what we can fuck with next!"...)

Interesting...

Apparently I struck a nerve with my last post.

I've been called a "f'n moron", a "nutcase", and a Dirty Harry wanna-be over at Universal Hub.

Now, I will own up that I most certainly did NOT express myself fully in the last post, and closed it with an unfortunate choice of words. My apologies for that. "Armed to the teeth" was an irresponsible choice of words on my part, and I have regretted using the phrase all afternoon.

What I will not apologize for, however, is for having the temerity to suggest that I and I alone be responsible for my own protection.

Let it be stated thusly: I harbor ZERO "Dirty Harry" fantasies. I will go to my grave a VERY happy man if I NEVER have to draw my weapon. I hate carrying a firearm with every fiber of my being; it's an admission that I'm living in an imperfect world in which there are those that would do me harm for no reason of my own making. I hate that there are people out there who, through their own choices and actions, might put me in the position where I might have to employ deadly force.

However, I will also not cower in a corner, hoping for salvation to arrive before it's my turn to be executed.

And there is no way on G-d's Green Earth that I will allow harm to come to me or mine if there is strength in my body.

Others have said it much more eloquently (Marko or Tam come immediately to mind); I regret not choosing my words more carefully in my last post. I've given a false impression I would dearly love to take back but know I cannot. And I'll bear that in mind with each and every post I make on such serious subjects as self-defense.

I'll close with a thought I've seen that bears repeating: The gun is not the weapon, the mind is. The gun is merely the tool employed. One can be armed with naught more than their bare hands and a grim determination to come out alive; one can have all the "tactical" advantages that money can buy but still fall to a well-placed fist should the determination be lacking.

Thanks for listening. That is all.

One Last Thing...

Yes, I'm going to the mall to do my Christmas shopping.

Yes, they have signs forbidding firearms.

No, neither MA nor NH has "binding signage", meaning that all they can do is ask me to leave.

Yes, I will be armed to the teeth.

That is all.

'Tis the Season...

...for getting your ass kicked...

Taking today off (burning vacation time before the end of the year - I ain't losin' vacation time!) to finish up my Christmas shopping. Gotta be jolly, gonna face the crowds at the malls (ugh...)

(And yes, I said "Christmas". It's not "holiday shopping", nor do I have a "holiday tree". It's called "Christmas", and we have a Christmas tree. If you don't like it, I hope Santa shits down your chimney...)

Here's what the Peanut Gallery has to say about those brittle people offended by the thought of "Christmas":

Merry Christmas everyone!

Friday Gun Pr0n #36

Today's gun was an unwilling participant in the Great Pumpkin Massacre of 2007. Here's the Colt 1991A1 that sent many a punkin to its eternal rest:

The 1991A1 differs from the 1911 in that it... um... well, I'm not really sure. As far as I can tell, it was an attempt by Colt to stem the onslaught of the burgeoning 1911 market by introducing a less-expensive line of 1911s. They craftily called it the 1991 ('cuz it was introduce in... wait for it... 1991) apparently so that they could continue to offer the 1911 at the same price while asking less for the functionally identical 1991A1.

That is all.

Concealed Means Concealed...

It's never more important to heed the advice in the title than in a GFW state like the Volksrepublik of MA. If one's "cover" is blown while carrying a concealed weapon in MA, one runs the risk of being on the wrong end of a "man with a gun" call, but even losing one's license to own firearms entirely. Legalities aside, here's my brief primer on three popular methods of carrying a firearm concealed...

---

First option: Inside the WaistBand, abbreviated IWB. One of the most popular methods of carrying a concealed firearm, in my experience it's the best way to carry a large(r), more powerful firearm.


First off, the equipment:

Sidearm: Smith & Wesson Model SW99C (compact) 9mm. 10+1 rounds of 9mm +P+ JHP goodness. 13 rounds in the back-up magazine. (Side note: S&W took a page out of Glock's book and made it so the full-size mags will fit & function in the compact guns). 24 rounds of 9mm total.

(One of these days I'm going to get the magazine grip extender that goes over the magazine.)

Holster: Crossbreed "tuckable" holster - it's similar to the more recognizable Comp-Tac in that you can tuck a shirt in over the holster and still have it mostly concealed. Yes, the two belt clips are visible, but I can vouch that it goes unnoticed even in sheep-land.

Here it is in place:

(Camera strap and all. Oops)

And, finally, hidden from view:

(Side note: It is freakin' hard to get a good shot of yourself in a mirror. I hadn't factored this into the equation...)

In any case, the gun is well-hidden using a vest, sweater, sports coat, or, in this case, oversized flannel. One big thing to be mindful of is reaching over one's head - as your arms raise, so does your cover garment. Here's where being "average" size comes in real handy - buy a size larger than you normally need, or get a "tall" sized shirt to help alleviate this problem. You also run the risk of printing (showing the outline of your gun or part of your gun) when sitting down and leaning forward (like in a booth at McDonald's).

---

Next option: The ankle holster.

Ankle-carry is best for a back-up weapon. It's the method of carry that puts the gun the furthest from your hands and requires the most contortion to reach, as well as the most practice to perfect your draw. That said, it still beats the hell out of a gun left at home... I used to carry my 360PD in an ankle holster in the spring & fall when it was too warm for a cover garment but not warm enough to bust out the cargo shorts (larger pockets = less printing).

Again, equipment first:

Sidearm: Smith & Wesson 360 PD .357 Magnum. 5 rounds of 125 grain JHP Magnum goodness. Six rounds back-up in a Bianchi speed strip. 11 rounds total. Less than half the ammo of the SW99, but at half the weight.

Holster: Ankle holster by GunGear (picked up on eBay before they went all PSH). Very comfortable, even for longer periods of time (6+ hours). The 12 ounce weight of the 360PD really comes in handy carrying in this method.

Here it is in place:

And, finally, hidden away:

Pretty well hidden, I'd say. One of the advantages to this method of carry is that the holster holds the gun very securely. Now, I wouldn't recommend jogging with it in place, but then again, I wouldn't recommend jogging in general... *g*

---

Last method: Pocket carry.

The most obvious disadvantage of this method is that you're limited to small guns - small size, small caliber, and small capacity. Less obvious is that weight is a factor - the 21 ounce lightweight polymer-framed gun that fits comfortably on your belt will feel like a friggin' boulder in your pocket. If it will fit at all...

The equipment:

Sidearm: Kel-Tec P3AT in .380 ACP caliber. 6+1 rounds of marginal 95 grain JHP .380 ACP. Back-up magazine with another 6 rounds. 13 rounds total. Only two rounds more than the j-frame, and that's 13 rounds of .380 ACP versus 11 rounds of .357 Magnum...

Holster: In this case, cheap works just fine. This holster is a nylon Uncle Mike's #1 that I got from MidwayUSA for $8. Works fine.

In place:

And hidden:

Unless the pants are extremely tight, printing is a minimum. Given that folks carry a lot of stuff in their front pockets, it's not unusual to see stuff making shapes there, either. Could be a gun. Could be a cell phone. Here's where living in GFW-land has its advantages: Even if someone did see a shape in my pocket, chances are overwhelming that they would NEVER think it to be a firearm...

Drawing from a pocket holster takes a lot of practice. Make sure you're in an area with no breakables the first few times you practice, because if you're anything like me you're going to launch the holster a time or two before you get the hang of it... *g*

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Well, that's enough for now. Hope this was (remotely) interesting and/or informative!

Too Good to Pass Up...

You might be a gun nut if:

Your Christmas shopping for your Dad involves a "wallet holster thingie for his new gun" (Mom's words verbatim) and you not only know exactly the gun she means but also about thirty places to get holsters.

Speaking thereof, anyone got good suggestions for a good quality leather holster for a Seecamp .32?

That is all...

Watch This Space...

Hoping to put up a pretty substantial piece later today (read: tonight) dealing with CCW.

There will be pictures. Lots of pictures.

Stay tuned...

(And unless something unexpected happens, life will be too busy kicking my ass for me to add much else...)

(("Roof-pig! Most unexpected!"))

Blood... Boiling...

I shouldn't comment on this story, but I will...

Boy Scouts Robbed At Gunpoint At Tree Lot

NORTH COLLEGE HILL -- North College Hill police are looking for three men who robbed a pair of Boy Scouts and their fathers late Monday.

The Boy Scouts, age 13 and 11, were selling Christmas trees in the parking lot of Tom's Drive Thru on West Galbraith Road shortly before closing at 9 p.m. when the men approached, one carrying a sawed-off shotgun.

"At first I thought it was just a little joke, but then, when I saw the gun, I was terrified," said John Hancock Jr., 13, of Troop 393. "And after I saw the gun this guy just punched me right here and it knocked me down," the boy said, pointing to his face.

As others have so eloquently stated: Rope. Tree. Scumbag. Some assembly required.

File this under "W" for "Why I Carry"...

Happy Ending...

My son got on the school bus this morning. No fuss. Didn't phase him in the least.

Thank heavens for small favors...

That is all.

Words You Never Want to Hear...

"Your son's school bus has run off the road and emergency crews are on the scene".

My son is okay. Whether or not we can get him to get back on a school bus or not remains to be seen.

File this under "S" for Shit I don't need...

UPDATE: Talked with the boy. He's fine, if a little shaken up. Also talked to my neighbor, who is not only the mother of a girl in my son's class, but the wife of a firefighter (and hence privy to all the latest gossip information).

Seems that the bus simply slid off the pavement and onto the soft (slushy) shoulder. It was, in my son's exact words, "a little tilted". This wouldn't have been so bad except that this wasn't their normal bus - that one broke down halfway home and they had ALREADY waited half an hour for the replacement bus.

So, basically, when the bus slid off the road, they were already 30+ minutes late, in an unfamiliar bus, with an unfamiliar bus driver.

And, worst of all, he left his gloves on one of the busses. He's not sure which...

PS: Hello to the visitors from Universal Hub! Thanks for stopping by!

Bisy Backson...

Sorry folks... Between being out on Thursday with a sick kid and having the audacity to take a vacation day on Friday, today has totally stunk on ice.

Oh, and did I mention we got 4-6" of snow overnight? Which of course means that:

a) Allll the morons forgot how to drive in snow;

and

b) Every yahoo with an F-250 and a plowframe now thinks that all traffic laws have been repealed...

I made it in to work in an insanely overpowered pickup truck without using 4WD. Excuse the hell out of me, Mr. AWD Subaru Outback, for wanting you to go faster than 15MPH...

More later. I hope...

Knock It Off...

I am sick to fucking death of the recent spate of commericals about giving fucking cars for Christmas.

Knock this shit off. I mean it.

Look, there's two kinds of people buying cars for Christmas:

1. The filthy rich who get a new car every year or two, who don't need a cheesy 30 second sound bite to remind them that it's time to trade last year's model in; and

2. The cheap bastards who were going to get a new car anyways and figure they could weasel out of buying their SO any Christmas presents. These folks don't need a commercial for a car, they need the name of a good divorce attorney...

That is all...