There's also a gun show... Ah, the gun show. Where else can one find overpriced military surplus arms, Third Reich memorabilia, and spicy venison jerky under the same roof?
Yes, tomorrow I'll be jostling elbows with the rest of the gun-nut universe, searching in vain for the one dealer out of the whole room who's actually pricing his firearms in US dollars, not yen... I'll most likely pick up some (insanely high-priced) ammo, a couple containers of hot sauce, and possibly a holster or speedloader or two.
And who knows? Maybe Baby Vulcan will smile on me and I'll have something new for the armory...
Friday, February 29, 2008
Friday Gun Pr0n #48
Alternate title: And the winner is...
Presenting, for your approval, after weeks and weeks of dithering, vaccillating, and otherwise wringing my hands and making a nuisance of myself, the winner of the "What full-size 9mm should Jay get" contest:
SigSauer model P226M 9mm. Full size. Four high-capacity magazines (or normal - read: non-MA-neutered - for those living in free America). Box. Manual. Like-new condition. All it needs is a pair of wrap-around grips (and more hi-caps...) and we're good to go.
Met up at the range for a test-shoot before I bought it, and all I can say is DAMN. This gun shoots way better than I am capable of, that's for damn sure... Still shooting low (that's me flinching), but the groups were impressive - 3" spread at 25' at rapid fire... Groups of less than an inch under slow-fire.
Me likey...
That is all.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Doin' the Math...
With gas expected to hit $4 a gallon this spring/summer, I've been thinking about alternatives to the gas-guzzling hot-rod Ram.
Specifically, I've been looking at scooters - Honda Metropolitan, Yamaha Zuma (no link, they stupidly load up their site with add-ons that prevent loading, so scroom...), etc. I have little interest in the crappy Chinese Vespa knock-offs, as I'd rather spend a little more for a known quantity that I can have fixed if/when needed than save a little cash upfront and have it fall apart after the first year...
Basically, I want something under 50ccs, as that does not require taxes/tags in MA. It's also the best gas mileage, and these models typically top out between 35-40 MPH. My commute is all backroads, with 40 MPH being the top speed of any road traveled. This small size (these scooters typically weigh under 200 pounds even fueled) also means that I can, if needed, hoist them into the bed of my truck for transport.
So, the math...
Truck gets ~ 13 MPG around town (stop-and-go). My daily commute is 30 miles. That's $9.23 a day at $4 a gallon.
Most scooters of this size get between 80 and 100 MPG. Using a 90 MPG average, that's $1.33 a day at the same $4/gal. gas price.
Daily savings: $7.90 per day.
Average MSRP for these scooters is ~ $2K. This means that the ROI at MSRP would be 253.2 days. Riding the scooter three days a week (rain/take truck once a week to keep it running/Harley), that's 84.4 weeks before I'd break even. Given ~ 30 week riding season, that's a hair under three years. I'd have to invest in a better rainsuit, but that's something I've been meaning to get anyways.
That's not that bad... There's also the not-inconsequential benefit of putting less miles on the truck...
Hmmm. This may bear more research...
Specifically, I've been looking at scooters - Honda Metropolitan, Yamaha Zuma (no link, they stupidly load up their site with add-ons that prevent loading, so scroom...), etc. I have little interest in the crappy Chinese Vespa knock-offs, as I'd rather spend a little more for a known quantity that I can have fixed if/when needed than save a little cash upfront and have it fall apart after the first year...
Basically, I want something under 50ccs, as that does not require taxes/tags in MA. It's also the best gas mileage, and these models typically top out between 35-40 MPH. My commute is all backroads, with 40 MPH being the top speed of any road traveled. This small size (these scooters typically weigh under 200 pounds even fueled) also means that I can, if needed, hoist them into the bed of my truck for transport.
So, the math...
Truck gets ~ 13 MPG around town (stop-and-go). My daily commute is 30 miles. That's $9.23 a day at $4 a gallon.
Most scooters of this size get between 80 and 100 MPG. Using a 90 MPG average, that's $1.33 a day at the same $4/gal. gas price.
Daily savings: $7.90 per day.
Average MSRP for these scooters is ~ $2K. This means that the ROI at MSRP would be 253.2 days. Riding the scooter three days a week (rain/take truck once a week to keep it running/Harley), that's 84.4 weeks before I'd break even. Given ~ 30 week riding season, that's a hair under three years. I'd have to invest in a better rainsuit, but that's something I've been meaning to get anyways.
That's not that bad... There's also the not-inconsequential benefit of putting less miles on the truck...
Hmmm. This may bear more research...
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
A Little Help, Part 2...
Only this time it's not snarky...
Here's the deal: I want to have our Scouts write "Get Well" letters to injured soldiers. It covers one of the electives outlined in the Tiger Cub manual, it gives us a chance to honor those who serve their nation's armed forces, and it gets some much-needed moral support to those who could use it the most.
However... Because some people cannot separate politics from the personal (like what happened to Joshua Sparling, may the cretin responsible slide under a gas truck and taste his/her own blood...), Walter Reed will no longer allow cards addressed to "Any Wounded Soldier".
I've called around between Walter Reed and their Red Cross affiliate, and have not been able to find a way to send get well cards to injured soldiers. It was suggested to make a poster, which normally would be a fine idea, except that getting six 7-year old boys to work together is nigh-unto impossible...
Anyone have any leads on how I can get an address/addresses to send get-well cards to injured soldiers? This came up pretty suddenly, otherwise I'd look around. Any and all ideas are happily entertained. Thanks!
That is all.
Here's the deal: I want to have our Scouts write "Get Well" letters to injured soldiers. It covers one of the electives outlined in the Tiger Cub manual, it gives us a chance to honor those who serve their nation's armed forces, and it gets some much-needed moral support to those who could use it the most.
However... Because some people cannot separate politics from the personal (like what happened to Joshua Sparling, may the cretin responsible slide under a gas truck and taste his/her own blood...), Walter Reed will no longer allow cards addressed to "Any Wounded Soldier".
I've called around between Walter Reed and their Red Cross affiliate, and have not been able to find a way to send get well cards to injured soldiers. It was suggested to make a poster, which normally would be a fine idea, except that getting six 7-year old boys to work together is nigh-unto impossible...
Anyone have any leads on how I can get an address/addresses to send get-well cards to injured soldiers? This came up pretty suddenly, otherwise I'd look around. Any and all ideas are happily entertained. Thanks!
That is all.
Hump Day...
Dunno why they call it "hump day" when most people get laid on the weekends... *g*
(Well, except for me. My wife doesn't believe in sex after marriage...)
Three days and counting until the first (for me) gun show of 2008. With any kind of luck, I'll get my bonus on Friday and actually have some $$$ to spend. Gun show + extra $$$ = Happy gun nut... ;)
That is all...
(Well, except for me. My wife doesn't believe in sex after marriage...)
Three days and counting until the first (for me) gun show of 2008. With any kind of luck, I'll get my bonus on Friday and actually have some $$$ to spend. Gun show + extra $$$ = Happy gun nut... ;)
That is all...
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Mental Note...
345 rear-wheel horsepower, snowy roads, and Commander Cody's "Hot Rod Lincoln" do NOT mix.
That is all.
That is all.
Uh, Bruce?
WTF???
See what happens when you let the Democrats take the reins?
I love this part:
Bold: Then why bother?
Italics: Yeah, right. Put up the political affiliations therein. If it's any less than 90% Democrat I'd be shocked...
Gun control measures. Sales or income tax. Place is really starting to live up to the "North Massachusetts" label...
I will be PISSED if NH falls before I can jump over the border...
That is all.
N.H. group makes pitch for new taxes
$50 million state deficit fuels once-radical idea
See what happens when you let the Democrats take the reins?
I love this part:
Next month, Town Meeting voters in 88 of New Hampshire's 221 towns will weigh in on a nonbinding resolution that declares the property tax system unjust and calls on legislators to give up their vow against new taxes, as a first step toward crafting a more equitable tax system. The Granite State Fair Tax Co alition, a two-year-old nonprofit group that describes itself as nonpartisan, is crisscrossing the state to promote the measure, which it drafted.
Bold: Then why bother?
Italics: Yeah, right. Put up the political affiliations therein. If it's any less than 90% Democrat I'd be shocked...
Gun control measures. Sales or income tax. Place is really starting to live up to the "North Massachusetts" label...
I will be PISSED if NH falls before I can jump over the border...
That is all.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Things That Go Bump In the Night...
Alternate title: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men...
There's an interesting discussion over at Northeastshooters forum (which is apparently down right now, securing tinfoil beanie about MA AG finally carting us off...) about events leading to the title of this post. In a nutshell, one of the posters at NES had heard something late at night and had gone to investigate. The thread basically outlined his plan, armament, etc.
In theory, I disagreed with his plan. My plan is simple: Secure everyone in their rooms (the kids know to stay put), Mrs. G. calls 911 on her cell and keeps them on the line, I cover the stairs with the first object I can get before the barbarians breech the second floor. If there's time, I'll retrieve one of the many firearms in the G. arsenal from their secured locations; if not, there are several blunt or pointy sharp objects close at hand.
In theory.
Reality, as we all know, is much different than theory. I've *heard* the random odd noise late at night. Rather than call 911, though, I grabbed my trusty .38 and went off to investigate. Turned out to be nothing (never did find out what it was), but the simple fact was that my instinct overrode my best plans. Since there was no dynamic/immediate threat - no one kicked the door in, broke a window, etc. - I didn't elevate the threat to "call the cops" level and chose to respond in my own way.
Intellectually, I know this is the wrong thing to do. If I suspect there's someone in the house, I should stick to my original plan and call the cops, plain and simple. Why give up the tactical advantage of knowing the layout of my house, the concealment of the bedroom, and the known backstop (where I'd be covering would be the front of the house, and across the street is an open field with deep woods behind it).
But what about when you're not really sure what's going on? I'm not about to call the cops every time I *think* something's amiss - with two little kids in the house, there's bound to be random bumps from piles of toys falling over, or lights left on when I know I didn't turn them on, etc.
I don't know the answer. All I know is that when I heard that loud thud, I ran to the gun safe, grabbed a gun, and went to check it out. Instinct kicked in. Reason had no part in the discussion (heck, the simple fact that I went for a .38 over a 12 gauge tells you that right there...).
What kind of training can you take that overrides the gut instinct?
Just something to think about.
That is all.
There's an interesting discussion over at Northeastshooters forum (which is apparently down right now, securing tinfoil beanie about MA AG finally carting us off...) about events leading to the title of this post. In a nutshell, one of the posters at NES had heard something late at night and had gone to investigate. The thread basically outlined his plan, armament, etc.
In theory, I disagreed with his plan. My plan is simple: Secure everyone in their rooms (the kids know to stay put), Mrs. G. calls 911 on her cell and keeps them on the line, I cover the stairs with the first object I can get before the barbarians breech the second floor. If there's time, I'll retrieve one of the many firearms in the G. arsenal from their secured locations; if not, there are several blunt or pointy sharp objects close at hand.
In theory.
Reality, as we all know, is much different than theory. I've *heard* the random odd noise late at night. Rather than call 911, though, I grabbed my trusty .38 and went off to investigate. Turned out to be nothing (never did find out what it was), but the simple fact was that my instinct overrode my best plans. Since there was no dynamic/immediate threat - no one kicked the door in, broke a window, etc. - I didn't elevate the threat to "call the cops" level and chose to respond in my own way.
Intellectually, I know this is the wrong thing to do. If I suspect there's someone in the house, I should stick to my original plan and call the cops, plain and simple. Why give up the tactical advantage of knowing the layout of my house, the concealment of the bedroom, and the known backstop (where I'd be covering would be the front of the house, and across the street is an open field with deep woods behind it).
But what about when you're not really sure what's going on? I'm not about to call the cops every time I *think* something's amiss - with two little kids in the house, there's bound to be random bumps from piles of toys falling over, or lights left on when I know I didn't turn them on, etc.
I don't know the answer. All I know is that when I heard that loud thud, I ran to the gun safe, grabbed a gun, and went to check it out. Instinct kicked in. Reason had no part in the discussion (heck, the simple fact that I went for a .38 over a 12 gauge tells you that right there...).
What kind of training can you take that overrides the gut instinct?
Just something to think about.
That is all.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Teh Suck...
Alternate title: Sometimes, Jay is made of fail...
Wow. What a crappy 24 hours.
Last night, I battled with the home 'puter for about 5 hours to remove some rather pernicious viruses that magically appeared after my kids were allowed unsupervised access to the PC (Webkins. The scourge of the parental universe).
This morning, I wake up to the septic tank alarm going off. This is after dropping a small fortune on repairs a little over a week ago. After my workout, I cleared two driveways and porches, to come home to find out that leaving the flexible hose on the outlet pipe to the sump pump is A VERY BAD IDEA, as the little part that dips down under the lattice to the front porch filled with water and froze solid.
This, of course, prevents the sump pump from properly evacuating the drainage hole of water, as it has nowhere to go. Quite possibly the only thing that went right was that I heard the sump laboring when I went to check on the septic pump (which was no longer going off; I'm chalking it up to excess ground water but will still call the septic guys on Monday) - this got me to investigate the flexible pipe and discover teh freeze...
So I spent a good chunk of the morning curled up in the fetal position under my front porch holding a hair dryer to the PVC pipe coming out of the basement... No hypothermia, although for a brief period I was speaking in tongues...
Oh, and this isn't the worst news. Yesterday my mother-in-law was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. She suffers from COPD, and is not responding well to treatment. This morning, she had a mild cardiac episode and actually almost died.
Yeah, it's been a bad fucking 24 hours.
Yeah, I'm going to the range tomorrow.
Yeah, there will be something ending in "Magnum" coming with me...
That is all...
Wow. What a crappy 24 hours.
Last night, I battled with the home 'puter for about 5 hours to remove some rather pernicious viruses that magically appeared after my kids were allowed unsupervised access to the PC (Webkins. The scourge of the parental universe).
This morning, I wake up to the septic tank alarm going off. This is after dropping a small fortune on repairs a little over a week ago. After my workout, I cleared two driveways and porches, to come home to find out that leaving the flexible hose on the outlet pipe to the sump pump is A VERY BAD IDEA, as the little part that dips down under the lattice to the front porch filled with water and froze solid.
This, of course, prevents the sump pump from properly evacuating the drainage hole of water, as it has nowhere to go. Quite possibly the only thing that went right was that I heard the sump laboring when I went to check on the septic pump (which was no longer going off; I'm chalking it up to excess ground water but will still call the septic guys on Monday) - this got me to investigate the flexible pipe and discover teh freeze...
So I spent a good chunk of the morning curled up in the fetal position under my front porch holding a hair dryer to the PVC pipe coming out of the basement... No hypothermia, although for a brief period I was speaking in tongues...
Oh, and this isn't the worst news. Yesterday my mother-in-law was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. She suffers from COPD, and is not responding well to treatment. This morning, she had a mild cardiac episode and actually almost died.
Yeah, it's been a bad fucking 24 hours.
Yeah, I'm going to the range tomorrow.
Yeah, there will be something ending in "Magnum" coming with me...
That is all...
Friday, February 22, 2008
Credit Where Credit Is Due
Good on you, Senator Clinton.
Police officer escorting Clinton dies
An unfortunate accident, in no, way, shape, or form having anything whatsoever to do with Senator Clinton other than being in her escort detail.
And she shows class:
My hat's off to you, Senator. I've taken enough shots, cheap and otherwise, at you. But this time I have to admit, you've done the right (and classy) thing.
That is all.
Police officer escorting Clinton dies
DALLAS - A police motorcycle officer died after a crash while escorting Hillary Rodham Clinton's motorcade to a campaign rally.
"We are just heartsick at this loss of life in the line of duty," a subdued Clinton told reporters after the Dallas rally.
An unfortunate accident, in no, way, shape, or form having anything whatsoever to do with Senator Clinton other than being in her escort detail.
And she shows class:
The New York senator and Democratic presidential candidate canceled her next appearance in Fort Worth, Texas, telling about 2,000 people who had gathered outside the Tarrant County courthouse that it would be inappropriate to campaign in the wake of the officer's death.
My hat's off to you, Senator. I've taken enough shots, cheap and otherwise, at you. But this time I have to admit, you've done the right (and classy) thing.
That is all.
The Bright Side of Snow...
They just announced that we will be closing at 2:00 PM today due to inclement weather.
Woo Hoo! Early start to the weekend! All I have to do is brave the rest of the idiotic motoring public to get home...
That is all...
Woo Hoo! Early start to the weekend! All I have to do is brave the rest of the idiotic motoring public to get home...
That is all...
Friday Gun Pr0n #47
Had I been thinking ahead, I've have planned an AK-47 clone for today's picture. Alas, planning has never been my strong suit, so...
Today's firearm is yet another oddity in my armory (Another couple of oddballs and I'm gonna start challenging Dr. Strangegun *g*):
Today's firearm is yet another oddity in my armory (Another couple of oddballs and I'm gonna start challenging Dr. Strangegun *g*):
This is a Harrington and Richardson "Sportsman" .22LR revolver. It's an oddity for several reasons:
- It's a 9-shot, which for some reason was de rigeur for non-major brand .22LR wheelguns for a while (High-Standard, H&R, Iver Johnson all had 9 shots, whereas Colt had 6 and S&W had either 8 or 10).
- It's a top-break, which makes this the easiest to reload of all the revolvers I own (would be even easier if I could find a speedloader or three for it...)
- Even though it's a top-break, it's a double-action revolver.
- It was manufactured in freakin' Worcester, MA - yes, believe it or not, MA had more than just S&W for gun manufacturers. And Kahr Arms is currently manufacturing guns in Worcester, although only their Auto-Ordnance line is available for sale in MA. {spit}
It's a fun little plinker, not worth a heck of a lot (saw one not all that long ago in a gun shop selling for under $100) but still a lot of fun. I like it because it's not as high-end as my Model 17, nor as rich in history as my Official Police, so I can shoot it without worrying about damaging the bluing or wearing down the rifling with cleaning. It's also several orders of magnitude easier to load and shoot than the NAA mini-22 (but a LOT less concealable...)
That is all...
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Weird Random Stuff...
Random thoughts that have been randomly bouncing around inside my head. You've been warned...
- As a result of losing weight, I've also managed to lose an entire ring size. I had stopped wearing my wedding band after it started literally falling off my finger, and after stabilizing and maintaining my "goal" weight for nearly a year, decided it was time to get it re-sized. Boy, was I ever surprised to find out that my finger has literally shrunk an entire ring size - I went from a 10¼ to 9¼. Amazing there was that much fat in my fingers. Then again, I also lost a whole shoe size as well. I was, quite literally, shrinking. Just weird.
- Sirius satellite radio is really starting to piss me off. The free one year trial that came with my new truck expires at the end of the month, and they have been calling me several times a day to get me to sign up. Very pushy, and very bad from a sales perspective - they are about to lose a customer and gain an enemy...
- So John McCain is being accused of dippin' the ol' wick where it doesnt belong. Really. By the NY-fucking-T. The same NY-fucking-T that told us, over and over and over again, ad nauseum (literally) how it was "just about sex" and "between two consenting adults" and yadda yadda yadda when Bubba was dipping his quill in interns. It's a-fucking-mazing how things have turned around in under a decade, eh? Suddenly, experience doesn't matter, neither does military service, and vague hints of sexual dalliances are newsworthy again (as opposed to credible reports of rape, but that's just me throwing down my RWW street cred...). Amazing how things can change depending on the party of the persons involved.
- Trying to decide what the Mrs. next car is going to be. The Accord is still running fine, and we're going to try to eek another couple of years out of it, but it never hurts to be looking ahead. She wants a Honda Pilot; however they're just a little too pricey for my liking. I'm trying to steer her towards a Toyota Highlander or perhaps even a Saturn Vue. I'm a little leery of getting into ANYTHING made by GM, though, as they seem to be teetering on the edge of oblivion lately...
That's about it. More if I have a moment later...
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Little Help?
Can someone please explain to me exactly what the fuck "Change you can believe in" means?
I've been trying to figure out just what the hell Obamessiah's message is, and for the life of me I have no idea. "Believe in" "change". Well, duh. No matter what happens, the administration is going to change. Anyone can believe it that (well, except perhaps for the diehard DU'ers who think Bush is going to stage a coup and become El Presidente Supremo for Life-o, and may I remind my conservative brethren that there was a not-inconsequential number of us - present company included - who weren't so certain that Bubba wasn't going to pull something similar...)
"Change you can believe in". That just about takes the empty rhetoric cake. Why would you "believe in" change? Change is guaranteed. Change is neither good not bad, only different. Why on earth would you build a campaign slogan around it? I don't understand. No matter what happens, our president will change come January 2009. That's iron-clad, and if Bush were to try to stage a coup, I've got a newsflash for our Democratic friends: That's what the second amendment (the one Obama and Hillary! want to gut, BTW) is really all about - me and my "gun nut" buddies would be the first ones to take up arms against a new American dictator.
And they know that. That's why a good number of politicians fear the second amendment.
So change is therefore inevitable. Saying that one can "Believe in" "change" is like saying "Concrete you can believe in" or "Oxygen you can believe in". Uh, thanks. It was going to happen anyways.
So who's buying this crap, anyways, and how do we convince them to stay the hell home on election day?
That is all.
I've been trying to figure out just what the hell Obamessiah's message is, and for the life of me I have no idea. "Believe in" "change". Well, duh. No matter what happens, the administration is going to change. Anyone can believe it that (well, except perhaps for the diehard DU'ers who think Bush is going to stage a coup and become El Presidente Supremo for Life-o, and may I remind my conservative brethren that there was a not-inconsequential number of us - present company included - who weren't so certain that Bubba wasn't going to pull something similar...)
"Change you can believe in". That just about takes the empty rhetoric cake. Why would you "believe in" change? Change is guaranteed. Change is neither good not bad, only different. Why on earth would you build a campaign slogan around it? I don't understand. No matter what happens, our president will change come January 2009. That's iron-clad, and if Bush were to try to stage a coup, I've got a newsflash for our Democratic friends: That's what the second amendment (the one Obama and Hillary! want to gut, BTW) is really all about - me and my "gun nut" buddies would be the first ones to take up arms against a new American dictator.
And they know that. That's why a good number of politicians fear the second amendment.
So change is therefore inevitable. Saying that one can "Believe in" "change" is like saying "Concrete you can believe in" or "Oxygen you can believe in". Uh, thanks. It was going to happen anyways.
So who's buying this crap, anyways, and how do we convince them to stay the hell home on election day?
That is all.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Good, the Bad, and the Conundrum...
Alternate title: Yes, you guessed it, another gunnie bleg...
The Good: Found two new gun shops close to me.
The Bad: Temptation, combined with poor impulse control and lack of funds, is a baaad thing.
The Enigma: Got a line on an Argentinian FM Browning Hi-Power clone. Good price, considering that actual Brownings are not MA-compliant {spit} and as such are pretty much unobtanium. This has the effect of driving up the price to Pluto, whereby a used Hi-Power in fair shape fetches more than MSRP for a new one in America. The only limiting factor is that there are zillions of C&R eligible Hi-Powers around the same price.
That said, I found an FM for about half the general going rate of a Hi-Power in MA. The conundrum (and bleg) is that I'm not certain how close the FMs are to actual Hi-Powers. My limited understanding is that the relationship is similar to the Colt Sistema, in that the FMs were originally produced in Argentina using Browning specs and tooling, as was the Sistema (using Colt specs and 1911 tooling). However, new(er) FMs get more difficult to peg, as the specs diverged at some point.
My main concern is that of magazines and grips - I don't want to drop $40/$50 on a set of wood grips to find out they don't fit, or find some pre-ban hi-cap magazines and have them not work.
Anyone have any info/horror stories/accolades/etc. for the FM Hi-Power clones? I'm curious to see what the buzz is...
Thanks in advance.
That is all.
The Good: Found two new gun shops close to me.
The Bad: Temptation, combined with poor impulse control and lack of funds, is a baaad thing.
The Enigma: Got a line on an Argentinian FM Browning Hi-Power clone. Good price, considering that actual Brownings are not MA-compliant {spit} and as such are pretty much unobtanium. This has the effect of driving up the price to Pluto, whereby a used Hi-Power in fair shape fetches more than MSRP for a new one in America. The only limiting factor is that there are zillions of C&R eligible Hi-Powers around the same price.
That said, I found an FM for about half the general going rate of a Hi-Power in MA. The conundrum (and bleg) is that I'm not certain how close the FMs are to actual Hi-Powers. My limited understanding is that the relationship is similar to the Colt Sistema, in that the FMs were originally produced in Argentina using Browning specs and tooling, as was the Sistema (using Colt specs and 1911 tooling). However, new(er) FMs get more difficult to peg, as the specs diverged at some point.
My main concern is that of magazines and grips - I don't want to drop $40/$50 on a set of wood grips to find out they don't fit, or find some pre-ban hi-cap magazines and have them not work.
Anyone have any info/horror stories/accolades/etc. for the FM Hi-Power clones? I'm curious to see what the buzz is...
Thanks in advance.
That is all.
Let Me Get This Straight...
You are giving me the finger because you're a moron?
Let me fill you in on something, sweetheart. When the line of traffic is going straight, and you try to pass me on the right, it is not my obligation, responsibility, or duty to let your ignorant/arrogant ass into traffic. Trying to bull your way in when you're driving a 2,000 pound Camry is the icing on the fucking stupid cake. I'm driving a 6,000 pound Dodge Ram. You so much as chip the chrome on my step rail, I'm going to the hospital complaining of back pain. Capiche?
Don't give me the finger because you can't read traffic. I was going straight. The guy in front of me was going straight. Just because someone three cars up is turning doesn't mean you get to pass all of us. And flipping me off because I wouldn't let you in?
Well, there's a reason I drove 15 MPH below the speed limit the next 5 miles... Stupid bint. I hope the next time you argue with a 22,000 pound dumptruck and they end up burying you in a fucking baggie. Douche.
That is all.
Let me fill you in on something, sweetheart. When the line of traffic is going straight, and you try to pass me on the right, it is not my obligation, responsibility, or duty to let your ignorant/arrogant ass into traffic. Trying to bull your way in when you're driving a 2,000 pound Camry is the icing on the fucking stupid cake. I'm driving a 6,000 pound Dodge Ram. You so much as chip the chrome on my step rail, I'm going to the hospital complaining of back pain. Capiche?
Don't give me the finger because you can't read traffic. I was going straight. The guy in front of me was going straight. Just because someone three cars up is turning doesn't mean you get to pass all of us. And flipping me off because I wouldn't let you in?
Well, there's a reason I drove 15 MPH below the speed limit the next 5 miles... Stupid bint. I hope the next time you argue with a 22,000 pound dumptruck and they end up burying you in a fucking baggie. Douche.
That is all.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Today's WTF Moment...
Is brought to us in this story:
Car hits Md. street-race crowd; 8 killed
Long story short: Car driving down a highway happens upon a group of people gathered for a late-night illegal car race. Tragedy ensues, as people are watching the race apparently ON the damn highway in the middle of the night.
What jumped out at me was this:
and
People, if you are in your 40s (let alone your 60s) and you are gathering on the side of a fucking highway in the middle of the fucking night to watch a bunch of testosterone-addicted morons smoke their tires and run illegal races, your fucking brain is not hitting on all cylinders. I don't mean to sound heartless here (okay, maybe I do), but I stopped pulling this shit when I turned 18. And even then I wasn't dumb enough to stand on a fucking highway in the middle of the fucking night.
While the deaths are of course a tragedy, what makes it doubly so is the stupidity and carelessness involved. The car that ran into the crowd apparently couldn't see the spectators who were standing on the highway because of the smoke from the racing cars' tires. Some poor bastard has to live with the knowledge that he killed 8 people, regardless of whether or not it was his fault.
Darwin will not be denied, folks. That is all.
Car hits Md. street-race crowd; 8 killed
Long story short: Car driving down a highway happens upon a group of people gathered for a late-night illegal car race. Tragedy ensues, as people are watching the race apparently ON the damn highway in the middle of the night.
What jumped out at me was this:
William Gaines Sr., 61, had a broken leg, and was not able to get away in time.
and
Marion Neal feared her 42-year-old brother was among the dead and was awaiting images from the police.
People, if you are in your 40s (let alone your 60s) and you are gathering on the side of a fucking highway in the middle of the fucking night to watch a bunch of testosterone-addicted morons smoke their tires and run illegal races, your fucking brain is not hitting on all cylinders. I don't mean to sound heartless here (okay, maybe I do), but I stopped pulling this shit when I turned 18. And even then I wasn't dumb enough to stand on a fucking highway in the middle of the fucking night.
While the deaths are of course a tragedy, what makes it doubly so is the stupidity and carelessness involved. The car that ran into the crowd apparently couldn't see the spectators who were standing on the highway because of the smoke from the racing cars' tires. Some poor bastard has to live with the knowledge that he killed 8 people, regardless of whether or not it was his fault.
Darwin will not be denied, folks. That is all.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Friday Gun Pr0n #46
Today's pr0n is signifantly smaller than the past couple of weeks, although it is from the same company as last week...
This is a Colt Junior in the questionable .25 ACP caliber. It's Colt's "update" to the 1908 Vest Pocket hammerless semi-auto, with the major changes being an external hammer and the magazine release located on the grip rather than underneath. It's a surprisingly accurate little gun, at least compared to other guns of this size and caliber, but given the lackluster performance of the .25 ACP really shouldn't be considered for a CCW piece except for back-up.
That is all.
This is a Colt Junior in the questionable .25 ACP caliber. It's Colt's "update" to the 1908 Vest Pocket hammerless semi-auto, with the major changes being an external hammer and the magazine release located on the grip rather than underneath. It's a surprisingly accurate little gun, at least compared to other guns of this size and caliber, but given the lackluster performance of the .25 ACP really shouldn't be considered for a CCW piece except for back-up.
That is all.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Movin' On Up...
It's Always Something...
Okay, with the recent spate of hellfire-and-damnation weather we've been getting (it's been alternating between raining like I should build a large boat and snowing like we're seeing the next Ice Age), we've been checking on the basement pretty diligently to make sure that the sump pump is operating properly.
The good news? The pump appears to be working just fine.
The bad news? Our septic tank alarm is going off. This apparently can mean one of many things, the most likely being:
The good news? The pump appears to be working just fine.
The bad news? Our septic tank alarm is going off. This apparently can mean one of many things, the most likely being:
- The tank is full - we last pumped it a year and a half ago, which is juuust about right for it being full.
- The pump has died - there's a pump that pushes the waste from the holding tank to the leeching field, and it has an average lifespan of 10 years. The house is 9 years old.
- With all the heavy snow and rain, water's getting in the holding tanks and overwhelming the pump.
Obviously, we're hoping that a quick pumping proves #1 to be the issue.
I'm writing all this, of course, so that you'll all know that I am, indeed, full of shit...
That is all.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Maybe I Missed Something...
...but where the fuck in the Constitution is the government given the authorization to meddle in fucking games???
WTF? Seriously? Our Congress has nothing better to do than investigate whether or not Roger Clemens took performance enhancing steroids over a fucking decade ago? Really?
This would explain why Congress's approval rating is hovering somewhere between trial lawyers and anal warts...
WASHINGTON (AP) - Roger Clemens told Yankees teammate Andy Pettitte nearly 10 years ago that he used human growth hormone, Pettitte said in a sworn affidavit to Congress, The Associated Press learned Tuesday.
Pettitte disclosed the conversation to the congressional committee holding Wednesday's hearing on drug use in baseball, a person familiar with the affidavit said. The person spoke to the AP on condition of anonymity because the document had not been made public.
WTF? Seriously? Our Congress has nothing better to do than investigate whether or not Roger Clemens took performance enhancing steroids over a fucking decade ago? Really?
This would explain why Congress's approval rating is hovering somewhere between trial lawyers and anal warts...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Child Safety Zones...
Saw this on the news this morning. Apparently, a six year old boy was molested by a known sex offender at a public library in southeastern MA. In response, the city councilors have proposed "Child Safety Zones" in the town:
First off, I'm pretty sure this is incorrect, as there seem to be plenty of restrictions at the state and federal level.
Secondly, they can call it anything they want, but unless and until we as a society get serious about providing incarceration and treatment, in that order, for these most serious of offenders, there is NO such thing as a "safe" zone when it comes to your kids and sexual predators. For some of us, "safe" means keeping a sharp eye on your kids no matter where they are and being prepared to take any measure necessary to keep them safe from predators. I'll not rehash the debate over .45 ACP vs. 9mm at this time, but I think y'all know where I stand...
When we sentence people to two-and-a-half years for murder, it sends a message that we're not really that g-ddamned serious about crime. Hell, the dirtbag in the original story is a Class III sex offender (highest level, most likely to re-offend), and was out on the street at age 26 - given that 18 is the youngest he could have possibly been charged, that means he served a MAXIMUM of 8 years for a crime so severe that it would give him a level 3 label.
The first thing we need to do is keep these people off the fucking street. Plain and simple. Next is to have some sort of truth in sentencing, whereby we at least slow down the revolving door that is the current state of our "justice" system. And lastly, but not least important, we need to find out why they do it, how we can stop them, and how we can make it so that when they do serve their time, they're no longer a danger to others.
And barring that, keep a sharp eye on your kids out there, folks.
Fall River City Councilor Cathy Ann Viveiros is proposing that the city adopt laws restricting access of level-three sex offenders from places children frequent. The "child safety zones" would prohibit sex offenders from places like playgrounds, schools, athletic fields and libraries, where children are likely to be. There are currently no restrictions on places a sex offender can visit in Fall River.
First off, I'm pretty sure this is incorrect, as there seem to be plenty of restrictions at the state and federal level.
Secondly, they can call it anything they want, but unless and until we as a society get serious about providing incarceration and treatment, in that order, for these most serious of offenders, there is NO such thing as a "safe" zone when it comes to your kids and sexual predators. For some of us, "safe" means keeping a sharp eye on your kids no matter where they are and being prepared to take any measure necessary to keep them safe from predators. I'll not rehash the debate over .45 ACP vs. 9mm at this time, but I think y'all know where I stand...
When we sentence people to two-and-a-half years for murder, it sends a message that we're not really that g-ddamned serious about crime. Hell, the dirtbag in the original story is a Class III sex offender (highest level, most likely to re-offend), and was out on the street at age 26 - given that 18 is the youngest he could have possibly been charged, that means he served a MAXIMUM of 8 years for a crime so severe that it would give him a level 3 label.
The first thing we need to do is keep these people off the fucking street. Plain and simple. Next is to have some sort of truth in sentencing, whereby we at least slow down the revolving door that is the current state of our "justice" system. And lastly, but not least important, we need to find out why they do it, how we can stop them, and how we can make it so that when they do serve their time, they're no longer a danger to others.
And barring that, keep a sharp eye on your kids out there, folks.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Pinewood Derby AAR
So, our pack had its Pinewood Derby on Saturday. This was my first experience both as an Assistant Cubmaster and a Tiger Cub parent in holding/attending a Pinewood Derby - the last time I took part in one, it was Reagan's first term in office... From what I could remember of that murky time period so long ago, my part in "making" the car consisted primarily of choosing the color.
Anyhoo... as for the car, my son chose the design. I carved it out of the standard issue block of official BSA Pinewood Derby wood, and he did most of the sanding. I drilled holes for the weights, he sanded some more, we puttied over the holes and got it ready to paint. My son designed the paint scheme and chose the stickers for the car, and I was prepared to let him paint it. He asked me to do the actual painting, saying he was "too nervous" and wanted the car to "look nice". His faith in me is heartening, if misplaced... Without further ado, here's the "Dragon Poptart" (He chose the name):
Now... Friday night. Weigh-in and check-in. All participating Scouts (or their designees) must bring their car to the site of the race between 7:00 PM and 8:00 PM the night before. Cars will be weighed (maximum allowable weight: 5 ounces) and checked for illegal substances (I kid you not - there's apparently an entire cottage industry built around "aftermarket" wheels, axles, and other assorted goodies designed to make the car go faster. Only one car was found to have non-approved materials, and it was an aesthetic choice rather than a speed choice. So only one DQ out of some 70+ cars.
Finally left the church sometime around 11 after setting up the track, setting up the hall, getting the café ready, and testing the software and video (the track has photoelectric sensors that connect to a laptop containing specially designed software to track winners. It's insanely high-tech and totally geeky. Naturally I was ALLLL over it...)
Now, a little background first. I am not what you would call a handy person. In fact, I often refer to myself as "mechanically declined". Guys like og, who can take stuff apart down to the molecular level and then put it all back together correctly, amaze me. I can take stuff apart with the best of 'em - problem is, it usually involves a four pound sledge or a 12 gauge. Which tends to make reassembly problematic...
I also don't have a terribly large assortment of dedicated tools. I've got a smattering of power tools, and assorted hand tools, but everything's kinda chucked in the basement on a series of plastic shelving. Once or twice a year, I'll have to wade through the assorted garf inevitably piled on top of my "tool bench" to find something I need for a project, but for the most part, I leave the the tools alone, they leave me alone.
Except now. Now I need to help my son create a car out of a block of wood. I might as well be expected to sprout wings and fly to Pluto. But, dammit, I am gonna do what I can. I attend the "information night" for the new Scout parents. I talk to the guy that owns the hobby shop that supplies the kits (who, BTW, has been in business for 147 years and is the same guy that I used to buy model rocket kits from when I was a pre-teen). I talk to several buddies of mine that have helped their sons build cars. I go to Home Depot and drop a small fortune on saws, sandpaper, paint, chisels, and such.
And, somehow, I managed to help my son create the car shown above. It looks like a Pinewood Derby car. It rolls nice and straight (eventually). Oh, sure, I wound up attaching washers to the bottom with packing tape to make the full 5 ounces, but the car is solid. It's legal. And it's ready to go.
I really wanted two things out of the car. I wanted it to actually finish the race - nothing like that poor kid who watches all the other cars roar down the track while only the front two wheels from his car finish - and, if possible, for my son to win one race (we run each car four times - once on each lane of the track so no one can complain about certain track conditions). Assuming the car could actually make it the whole length of the track, I was really hoping that my son could experience thrill of watching his car come in first.
With 18 Tiger scouts, we had 18 races. My son's car didn't come up to race until the fourth heat. Now, since I'm the Assistant Cubmaster, I'm up on the stage loading cars on, reading the displays on the computer, etc. I know before anyone watching when the car's coming up. I also took about 50 pictures of the car on the track, and video of the race. Waiting for that gate to drop, I was nervous. Damn nervous. This was it - in mere seconds, I was going to find out if my "craftsmanship" would hold up, fail, or explode spectacularly.
The gate dropped. I'm watching through a 2" screen as the cars go down the track. Our car finished. Personal goal number 1 attained. Yay me! I look over at the laptop.
He won the race. By a handy margin, too.
I look out into the crowd, and find my son. The look of happiness on his face was absolutely priceless. He looks right at me and screams, "I won, Dad, I won!!!" Personal goal #2 achieved. Now I can relax - his car made it all the way down, and won. You can't ask for more than that.
Well...
Son's second race rolls around, and he wins that one as well. Holy crap. How the hell did that happen? This one was pretty close, but he was the winner. 2 for 2. He's now so happy he's levitating off the ground. Or maybe buzzing from a sugar high, I really couldn't tell.
Third race, he came in something like half a second ahead of the second place car. He OWNED the third race. One of the other parents, a good guy whose son took swimming lessons with my son, calls out, "Aha! The fix is in!". I start joking about facing an inquiry.
Last race, he's up against one of the other boys in his den who has also won his past three races. This one's a nailbiter, but when the cars cross the line, the Dragon Poptart is first. He won all four races. Our car won every race it was in. That still floors me.
It wasn't quite over yet - because the winners are determined based on an average of times, and not all cars race each other, it was possible that my son wasn't the overall winner. However, I had been checking his times, and no one even came close:
Yep. My son won the Pinewood Derby in the Tiger Cub division. The car that I, Mr. Mechanically Inept, helped build, turned out to be the fastest thing onfour three wheels (one of the tips that I incorporated was to have one wheel very slightly elevated to reduce friction).
I still can't believe it. My son and I spent the entire rest of the weekend going back and forth:
[Me] "How did you do in the Pinewood Derby?"
[The boy, beaming] "First place!!!"
And now we're going to the regional finals next month. I thought we'd be done...
Life. Is. Good.
That is all.
Anyhoo... as for the car, my son chose the design. I carved it out of the standard issue block of official BSA Pinewood Derby wood, and he did most of the sanding. I drilled holes for the weights, he sanded some more, we puttied over the holes and got it ready to paint. My son designed the paint scheme and chose the stickers for the car, and I was prepared to let him paint it. He asked me to do the actual painting, saying he was "too nervous" and wanted the car to "look nice". His faith in me is heartening, if misplaced... Without further ado, here's the "Dragon Poptart" (He chose the name):
Now... Friday night. Weigh-in and check-in. All participating Scouts (or their designees) must bring their car to the site of the race between 7:00 PM and 8:00 PM the night before. Cars will be weighed (maximum allowable weight: 5 ounces) and checked for illegal substances (I kid you not - there's apparently an entire cottage industry built around "aftermarket" wheels, axles, and other assorted goodies designed to make the car go faster. Only one car was found to have non-approved materials, and it was an aesthetic choice rather than a speed choice. So only one DQ out of some 70+ cars.
Finally left the church sometime around 11 after setting up the track, setting up the hall, getting the café ready, and testing the software and video (the track has photoelectric sensors that connect to a laptop containing specially designed software to track winners. It's insanely high-tech and totally geeky. Naturally I was ALLLL over it...)
Now, a little background first. I am not what you would call a handy person. In fact, I often refer to myself as "mechanically declined". Guys like og, who can take stuff apart down to the molecular level and then put it all back together correctly, amaze me. I can take stuff apart with the best of 'em - problem is, it usually involves a four pound sledge or a 12 gauge. Which tends to make reassembly problematic...
I also don't have a terribly large assortment of dedicated tools. I've got a smattering of power tools, and assorted hand tools, but everything's kinda chucked in the basement on a series of plastic shelving. Once or twice a year, I'll have to wade through the assorted garf inevitably piled on top of my "tool bench" to find something I need for a project, but for the most part, I leave the the tools alone, they leave me alone.
Except now. Now I need to help my son create a car out of a block of wood. I might as well be expected to sprout wings and fly to Pluto. But, dammit, I am gonna do what I can. I attend the "information night" for the new Scout parents. I talk to the guy that owns the hobby shop that supplies the kits (who, BTW, has been in business for 147 years and is the same guy that I used to buy model rocket kits from when I was a pre-teen). I talk to several buddies of mine that have helped their sons build cars. I go to Home Depot and drop a small fortune on saws, sandpaper, paint, chisels, and such.
And, somehow, I managed to help my son create the car shown above. It looks like a Pinewood Derby car. It rolls nice and straight (eventually). Oh, sure, I wound up attaching washers to the bottom with packing tape to make the full 5 ounces, but the car is solid. It's legal. And it's ready to go.
I really wanted two things out of the car. I wanted it to actually finish the race - nothing like that poor kid who watches all the other cars roar down the track while only the front two wheels from his car finish - and, if possible, for my son to win one race (we run each car four times - once on each lane of the track so no one can complain about certain track conditions). Assuming the car could actually make it the whole length of the track, I was really hoping that my son could experience thrill of watching his car come in first.
With 18 Tiger scouts, we had 18 races. My son's car didn't come up to race until the fourth heat. Now, since I'm the Assistant Cubmaster, I'm up on the stage loading cars on, reading the displays on the computer, etc. I know before anyone watching when the car's coming up. I also took about 50 pictures of the car on the track, and video of the race. Waiting for that gate to drop, I was nervous. Damn nervous. This was it - in mere seconds, I was going to find out if my "craftsmanship" would hold up, fail, or explode spectacularly.
The gate dropped. I'm watching through a 2" screen as the cars go down the track. Our car finished. Personal goal number 1 attained. Yay me! I look over at the laptop.
He won the race. By a handy margin, too.
I look out into the crowd, and find my son. The look of happiness on his face was absolutely priceless. He looks right at me and screams, "I won, Dad, I won!!!" Personal goal #2 achieved. Now I can relax - his car made it all the way down, and won. You can't ask for more than that.
Well...
Son's second race rolls around, and he wins that one as well. Holy crap. How the hell did that happen? This one was pretty close, but he was the winner. 2 for 2. He's now so happy he's levitating off the ground. Or maybe buzzing from a sugar high, I really couldn't tell.
Third race, he came in something like half a second ahead of the second place car. He OWNED the third race. One of the other parents, a good guy whose son took swimming lessons with my son, calls out, "Aha! The fix is in!". I start joking about facing an inquiry.
Last race, he's up against one of the other boys in his den who has also won his past three races. This one's a nailbiter, but when the cars cross the line, the Dragon Poptart is first. He won all four races. Our car won every race it was in. That still floors me.
It wasn't quite over yet - because the winners are determined based on an average of times, and not all cars race each other, it was possible that my son wasn't the overall winner. However, I had been checking his times, and no one even came close:
Yep. My son won the Pinewood Derby in the Tiger Cub division. The car that I, Mr. Mechanically Inept, helped build, turned out to be the fastest thing on
I still can't believe it. My son and I spent the entire rest of the weekend going back and forth:
[Me] "How did you do in the Pinewood Derby?"
[The boy, beaming] "First place!!!"
And now we're going to the regional finals next month. I thought we'd be done...
Life. Is. Good.
That is all.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Friday Gun Pr0n #45
Numerologically speaking, today's picture just HAD to be something that Sir John Moses Browning designed:
Today's pic gives us not one but two Colts, and from the opposite end of the Colt spectrum. On the left we have a Colt 1991A1, Colt's "response" to the burgeoning 1911 market in the early 1990s whereby they shaved a few corners (but still produced a damn good gun, he hastens to add) to produce a more, ahem, affordable pistol. The right side is a no-holes-barred Gold Cup, one of the shining jewels in the armory, a delight to shoot (it's FAR more accurate that I'll ever shoot it) and a trigger of beauty.
Today's pic gives us not one but two Colts, and from the opposite end of the Colt spectrum. On the left we have a Colt 1991A1, Colt's "response" to the burgeoning 1911 market in the early 1990s whereby they shaved a few corners (but still produced a damn good gun, he hastens to add) to produce a more, ahem, affordable pistol. The right side is a no-holes-barred Gold Cup, one of the shining jewels in the armory, a delight to shoot (it's FAR more accurate that I'll ever shoot it) and a trigger of beauty.That is all.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Hatred Is an Ugly Word...
...but it so precisely describes the emotion I feel when I see some blithering idiot driving down the road with a tiny peephole in the snow on their windshield.
I mean, what other emotion adequately conveys the feeling I get when I see some lazy, self-absorbed shit-for-brains who can't be bothered to spend an additional 10 seconds to clear at least the whole windshield and side windows?
To complete the jackass trifecta, make it someone yammering on their cellphone in a lux-o-barge SUV...
That is all.
I mean, what other emotion adequately conveys the feeling I get when I see some lazy, self-absorbed shit-for-brains who can't be bothered to spend an additional 10 seconds to clear at least the whole windshield and side windows?
To complete the jackass trifecta, make it someone yammering on their cellphone in a lux-o-barge SUV...
That is all.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
It's the 9mm World Series!
Okay. One last bleg on the 9mm front. I've narrowed my choices down to two pistols:
1. Beretta 92FS
Pros of the Beretta include:
1. Beretta 92FS
Pros of the Beretta include:
- Cheaper by $100
- Pre-ban magazines are plentiful
- Fan-boy '80s action movie geek appeal (C'mon. Both Martin Riggs and John McClane carried Beretta 92FSs!)
- Civilian version of the M9 in current use by our armed forces (i.e., will be able to get parts forever).
Cons of the Beretta include:
- Larger grip size - one of the reasons for getting a steel-framed, full-sized 9mm is to have a centerfire pistol I can hand to new/returning shooters. Might be too much for folks with smallish hands
- Beretta seems to have washed its hands of MA - the 90-two is not MA compliant, and it does not appear that Beretta will be jumping through those hoops again. Might make it difficult to get any repair/upgrades done.
- Only two high-cap magazines with this Beretta. Local gun shop offers pre-bans at $30/each.
2. SigSauer P226:
Pros of the Sig 226:
- Comes with night sights (I have specific guns chosen)
- Comes with four pre-ban high caps
- Sig reliability
- SigSauer USA located approximately 35 minutes from my house.
Cons of the Sig 226:
- $100 more
- Not as ubiquitous in gunnie lore
So... What's the opinion of the gun collective? Which of these two fine 9mm pistols would you choose, and why or why not?
That is all.
Blogroll Additions
Okay. Got a couple of LONG overdue additions to the blogroll.
1. Liberty at Fighting For Liberty - a fellow New Englandah, but in the Free State of NH, his header's enough to garner a link: Fighting For Liberty... because the alternative pretty much sucks.
2. The pistolero at Live from the (upper) Texas Gulf Coast - he's got me listed under the heading of "Other folks with guns who like to talk about 'em". He's also a fellow People of the Gun.
Sorry to take so long getting you on the 'roll, guys, but as I've said before, drop me a line and let me know if you've added MArooned to your blogroll. I'm only too happy to reciprocate.
1. Liberty at Fighting For Liberty - a fellow New Englandah, but in the Free State of NH, his header's enough to garner a link: Fighting For Liberty... because the alternative pretty much sucks.
2. The pistolero at Live from the (upper) Texas Gulf Coast - he's got me listed under the heading of "Other folks with guns who like to talk about 'em". He's also a fellow People of the Gun.
Sorry to take so long getting you on the 'roll, guys, but as I've said before, drop me a line and let me know if you've added MArooned to your blogroll. I'm only too happy to reciprocate.
Sick Day...
Home today with the girl, who has managed to contract the raging stomach death bug that's been ravaging the local school... Projectile vomiting will tend to garner one a free "day home" with the parent of choice.
Or, in her case, the parent that has more sick time...
Expect sporadic and, um, colorful posting throughout the day.
That is all.
Or, in her case, the parent that has more sick time...
Expect sporadic and, um, colorful posting throughout the day.
That is all.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Convince Me...
Convince me that I should bother voting today.
Because, quite honestly, I just don't see any point. I've got four choices:
1. McCain - McCain-Feingold ALONE is enough to put me off my feed for John McCain. While I appreciate his hawkish stance on our defense, there's just too much authoritarian influence there...
2. Romney - after the complete and total ass-raping this man gave to the already-bad state of MA, he's going to need to toss a good chunk of his Mormon Millions at me before I vote for the man who gave us the MA AWB *and* the "Mandatory Health Care fiasco. NFW. Plus his fucking campaign has called my house at least three or four times A DAY for the past week.
3. Huckabee - Hmmm. Religious conservative a.k.a. Bible Thumper. Um, what was my stance on religion again? Something about it being corrupted by mortal men? No, thank you, I don't need the government mandating Jesus, thankyewferplayin'.
4. Ron Paul - Given the recent departure of my man Fred, Paul is the only candidate I can vote for and not need a shower afterwards. I'm not a fan of his foreign policy (ostrich), but domestically we need Ron Paul like no one's business.
So...
Should I even bother? I mean, MA carries a fair number of delegates, so it could be helpful in choosing the nominee. However, I expect either Mitt "The Hair" Romney or John "Respect Mah Authoritah!" McCain to win MA, and Huck and Paul to come in a distant 3rd & 4th.
Convince me I should take the time.
That is all.
Because, quite honestly, I just don't see any point. I've got four choices:
1. McCain - McCain-Feingold ALONE is enough to put me off my feed for John McCain. While I appreciate his hawkish stance on our defense, there's just too much authoritarian influence there...
2. Romney - after the complete and total ass-raping this man gave to the already-bad state of MA, he's going to need to toss a good chunk of his Mormon Millions at me before I vote for the man who gave us the MA AWB *and* the "Mandatory Health Care fiasco. NFW. Plus his fucking campaign has called my house at least three or four times A DAY for the past week.
3. Huckabee - Hmmm. Religious conservative a.k.a. Bible Thumper. Um, what was my stance on religion again? Something about it being corrupted by mortal men? No, thank you, I don't need the government mandating Jesus, thankyewferplayin'.
4. Ron Paul - Given the recent departure of my man Fred, Paul is the only candidate I can vote for and not need a shower afterwards. I'm not a fan of his foreign policy (ostrich), but domestically we need Ron Paul like no one's business.
So...
Should I even bother? I mean, MA carries a fair number of delegates, so it could be helpful in choosing the nominee. However, I expect either Mitt "The Hair" Romney or John "Respect Mah Authoritah!" McCain to win MA, and Huck and Paul to come in a distant 3rd & 4th.
Convince me I should take the time.
That is all.
Monday, February 4, 2008
What It's All About, Part ???
Talk about taking the sting out of last night's Pats loss...
So, this morning, we're sitting in the truck at the bus stop waiting for the bus (No word on whether or not Jesus had left Chicago tho').
My son asks if we can toss the football around before the bus comes. I tell him the football's not in the truck, that football season is over. He responds, "oh, yeah, the Patriots lost". Switching gears, I remind him that we just signed him up for baseball, and we should really be throwing a baseball around to get him ready.
He climbs between the two front seats so he's looking right at me, and asks with all sincerity, "Daddy, can you sign up to be a coach for baseball?".
Then he paused for a moment and added, "Please?".
I very nearly vanished in a perfect flash of light, that's how great I felt.
So... I need to learn something about coaching baseball. All I remember from my (very) brief time in Little League is that it hurts like hell when you swing the bat around, miss the ball completely, and whack yourself in the forehead with the bat...
That is all...
So, this morning, we're sitting in the truck at the bus stop waiting for the bus (No word on whether or not Jesus had left Chicago tho').
My son asks if we can toss the football around before the bus comes. I tell him the football's not in the truck, that football season is over. He responds, "oh, yeah, the Patriots lost". Switching gears, I remind him that we just signed him up for baseball, and we should really be throwing a baseball around to get him ready.
He climbs between the two front seats so he's looking right at me, and asks with all sincerity, "Daddy, can you sign up to be a coach for baseball?".
Then he paused for a moment and added, "Please?".
I very nearly vanished in a perfect flash of light, that's how great I felt.
So... I need to learn something about coaching baseball. All I remember from my (very) brief time in Little League is that it hurts like hell when you swing the bat around, miss the ball completely, and whack yourself in the forehead with the bat...
That is all...
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
50K...
Just rolled over 50,000 unique visits. I'm coming up on a year next month.
Wow.
The fact that so many of y'all have nothing better to do than read my insane scribblings is both humbling and a little frightening... :)
But seriously, thanks for stoppin' by in my little corner of the 'net.
That is all.
Wow.
The fact that so many of y'all have nothing better to do than read my in
But seriously, thanks for stoppin' by in my little corner of the 'net.
That is all.
Friday, February 1, 2008
I Just Gotta Know...
Okay. You. The person accessing my blog from Harvard Business School.
Are you my brother-in-law?
'Cause if you are, I can explain, honest...
;)
Are you my brother-in-law?
'Cause if you are, I can explain, honest...
;)
Sometimes 14 MPG Ain't So Bad...
...Like when the snooty soccer mom in her luxury SUV decides to make an illegal U-turn (called "flipping a bitch", I shit you not) directly into your path, and you get to see the look of sheer terror in her eyes when she realizes that she just came 6" from having her Lexus turned into a $50,000 pile of scrap metal...
That is all.
That is all.
Friday Gun Pr0n #44...
Aw crap. Had a great picture ready to roll today, but there's no way I can resist the lure of the numbers... The little gun will have to wait until next week. This week, in honor of #44, I'll have to showcase a gun of that caliber:
This is a Taurus Model 431 in .44 Special. 3" barrel, adjustable sights, 5 round capacity. Picked it up eons ago, it sat in the safe forever, and sold it a few years back. Every once in a while I regret selling it, then I look at the price of .44 Special ammo and don't feel so bad...
This is a Taurus Model 431 in .44 Special. 3" barrel, adjustable sights, 5 round capacity. Picked it up eons ago, it sat in the safe forever, and sold it a few years back. Every once in a while I regret selling it, then I look at the price of .44 Special ammo and don't feel so bad...
Stay tuned next week. With any kind of luck there will be some serendipitous .45 goodness...
That is all.
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