Life is Hard. Wear a Helmet.

Life is Hard. Wear a Helmet

Virginia State Constitution: Article 1; Section 13
That a well regulated militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to arms, is the proper, natural, and safe defense of a free state, therefore, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed; that standing armies, in time of peace, should be avoided as dangerous to liberty; and that in all cases the military should be under strict subordination to, and governed by, the civil power.

Alabama State Constitution: Article 1: Section 26
That every Citizen has a right to bear arms in defense of himself and the State.

Monday, April 30, 2012


Not enough time. Not nearly enough coffee.

I slept funny, and now I'm doing that can't-turn-my-head-to-the-left thing because of my sore neck.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Sleeping in is for pussies

Man, I had a great time shooting yesterday.

Thanks very much to David, Andy, Nancy, CTone and AGirl for showing up and making it happen.

It was my first time meeting David and AGirl.

Anybody who shows up to a blog-shoot with a Sig is just plain awesome. David showed up with two. Love that guy.

AGirl showed up wearing the custom holster featured at the top of her blog, then picked up my Snubby from Hell for the first time in her life and fired a group as good as any I've ever put downrange with that thing. Yeah...thanks for that, honey.

I stood in the Sigfusion lane trying to stuff the magazine for my Sig Pro into David's P229 for a couple minutes before I realized I was holding the wrong gun. David didn't say a word. Classy guy.

Got home from the range to find a package had arrived from Australia; with Tim Tam's, Caramello Koalas and Musk sticks! Woot!
Thank you Pax!
CTone has not had the chance to mold any bullets from my Anzac Bikkies yet, but I've got some hardening in the kitchen as we speak.
Email me your address so I can reciprocate with some Moon Pies and Good N Plenty's.

Yeah. Working on Sunday as usual.
Got the new kid started on Friday, so I'll be spending the day training him up.
By June or so, I should be getting back to a 'normal' schedule.


Saturday, April 28, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #13

Freedom Farts

Those Air Force Jet-Jockeys are pretty quick on the trigger.
We don't like collateral damage, so it's best to stay the fuck out of the way.

Speaking of "quick on the trigger",

Describe your sex life with a movie title.

um...28 Days Later?


“I don’t believe anybody was promised free lifetime medical care. That’s a popular myth,”
~ Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, speaking of veteran's benefits

"Lyin’ bone smugglin’ piece of shit. It’s the reason most of us stayed for retirement, because the pension sure wasn’t all that attractive.
Way to stick your brother veterans right in the ass, Lindsey, you smoldering turd."
~ John Lilyea of This Ain't Hell (not a Senator)



Friday, April 27, 2012

Fridays are awesome

I love this zombie picture!

You just got hit by a Sneak-attack earworm!

Try getting that song out of your heads now....

I have absolutely nothing meaningful to say and I...don't...give...a...fuck.

It's Friday! and I get a day off tomorrow!
(as long as nothing goes seriously wrong at the plant)

Have a great weekend!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

A Girl and Her Gun, Angry Andy and Flaming Gonads

Road trip down to Richmond today.
It's work, only not so much.

A Girl and Her Gun had to back out of the range trip Saturday .

So we're a crowd of 4 now. Any last-minute additions?
The doors at The Range open at 11:00am. I plan on showing up an hour before and B.S'ing.
Just look for the handsome guy with the epic salt and pepper goatee.

He needs to change his name from Broken Andy to Angry Andy.

Injustice sucks.

Breda posted this shit on Facebook, and I swear I fucking peed a little bit laughing at the product reviews.

Veet for Men Hair Removal Gel Creme, 200ml

For you guys who are too lazy to click the link, I copied and pasted a few of the reviews here:
Being a loose cannon who does not play by the rules the first thing I did was ignore the warning and smear this all over my knob and bollocks. The bollocks I knew and loved are gone now. In their place is a maroon coloured bag of agony which sends stabs of pain up my body every time it grazes against my thigh or an article of clothing. I am suffering so that you don't have to. Heed my lesson. DO NOT PUT ON KNOB AND BOLLOCKS.
(I am giving this product a 5 because despite the fact that I think my bollocks might fall off, they are now completely hairless.)
Although I understood the part about 'intimate use' I could not find anything about this not being for nose or ear hair. I get fed up with constantly cutting myself whilst trying to cut my ear and nose hair with a pair of Kitchen Scissors, so I decided that this product would work for me. I rubbed it up into my nostrils and around the outside of my ears. Very soon the burn started and trust me it really makes your eyes water. Probably more that if it was on your knob or bollocks like the other reviewer did. If your eyes do water, make sure the product is not on your hands when you go to wipe your eyes as this porodcut also removes eyelashes and eyebrows and makes youe eyes water even more. I look like I have been put on a sunbed for too long and people keep asking me why I am crying. Still, a good product which does what it says.
Not since Steve McQueen entered the 'Towering Inferno' has a human object burnt so intensely.
I applied the cream to my spuds and within 24 seconds my orbs were throbbing.
Imagine being dragged naked down the autobahn in Germany behind an F1 car. That is exactly how my seed sack felt.
On the plus side, my nuts are totally foliage-free. On the down side Ill never be a Father.
I like the clean shaven look down in my gentleman's log cabin, so for the past few years I've used a shaver. However the hair keeps growing back which means every 6 months I have to spend 20 minutes trimming again. As I'm sure you've realise this is valuable time I cannot waste. So I decided to get to the root of the problem and purchased this product.
Probably the first thing you will notice after using this product is the pain. Although as a man I lack the required experience, I'm going to estimate that using this product is at least eleven times more painful than childbirth.
Imagine sticking a rusty razor blade into your favourite eye, before tying your hands behind your back. Then imagine that you use the entrenched razor blade to slice open a raw onion. All the while being butt naked. This product is slightly more painful than that.
However if we ignore the blinding, crippling and debilitating pain I should point out that this product is remarkably effective. Before, all manner of organisms great and small lived down there, now nothing can grow; not even on a cellular level. Sadly this includes my genitalia; I've spent the last four hours staring fixedly at Carol Vorderman's arse, all to no avail. My tinkywinkleton hasn't even so much as perked up, so if my review seems a bit harsh, it's only because I wanted children.
All in all an effective and reasonably priced product - 3 Stars.

Feeling a bit random this morning...I think I started a little too early.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Anzac Day - time for Bikkies

The rumor that these babies will keep forever is fairly true. Once they harden up, keep them wrapped up and you can nom on them for a month.
The rumor that they can later be melted down and used in bullet molds has not been tested, but now that CTone has read about it, we'll probably get a range report soon...

  • 1 cup plain flour
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup rolled oats
  • 1 cup desiccated coconut
  • 4 oz butter
  • 2 tablespoons boiling water
  • 1 tablespoon light corn syrup
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda (add a little more water if mixture is too dry)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (180 Celsius if you're actually Australian)

Grease a cookie sheet.

In a large bowl, combine all the dry ingredients.

In a small saucepan over a medium heat (or in a microwave proof jug or bowl in the microwave), combine the butter and syrup until the butter has melted.

In a small bowl, combine the boiling water and baking soda.

Add the soda and water mixture with the melted butter and syrup.

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Mix thoroughly.

Dollop teaspoonfuls of the biscuit mixture onto the greased baking tray. Don't forget that the biscuits WILL spread during baking, so make sure you leave room for them to spread!

Bake for 12 minutes, or until golden brown.

Remove from oven.

Allow to cool on the tray for a few minutes.

Those heroes that shed their blood
And lost their lives.
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country.
Therefore rest in peace.
There is no difference between the Johnnies
And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side
Here in this country of ours.
You, the mothers,
Who sent their sons from far away countries
Wipe away your tears,
Your sons are now lying in our bosom
And are in peace
After having lost their lives on this land they have
Become our sons as well.
~ Kemal Ataturk, Anzac Day 1934
For PAX and Julie



Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Works for new shooters too...

Anticipating the recoil.  Flinching.  Whatever you want to call it.

I never got anywhere with my shooting until I got past this first hurdle.

If someone says that they've never had this problem ever, they're full of shit.  (Unless it's Old NFO, he just got past it so long ago he doesn't remember it anymore)

Everyone is born with an automatic startle response built-in.  (The Moro reflex, I believe this goes away before the first birthday) 
Over time, we (shooters) learn to suppress this flinch reaction, even to the point of "beating the blink". 
I blink.  I don't think that's ever going away for me.  I've heard lots of people tell me they have beaten it, but I've never called them on it.

Smart people like LabRat and Speaker to Lab Animals understand all this stuff about the Central Nervous System vs the Peripheral Nervous System.  I only know what I've been able to read up on my own.  From what I gather, although I've beaten the reflex, that old Peripheral Nervous System is still chugging along, trying it's best to protect me.

Is that where my "shooter's high" comes from? 
I'm a confessed adrenaline junky.  Is that why I get such a rush from shooting?
Is it because my peripheral nervous system is still pounding the adrenaline button in response to the loud noise and comcussion?

This is usually where I add some boobies, but I found this picture on Facebook and I just had to share it.

Sometimes you feel like an eagle, sometimes you just duck.

Monday, April 23, 2012


What fucking day is it? (I've been asking that question way too much lately.)

Don't forget, this Saturday is April 28th.

From Garden & Gun magazine:

"From outside, the Blue Moon Saloon, just off the long stretch of highway between New Orleans and Houston, in Lafayette, Louisiana, looks like any other roadhouse.  You can see some string lights out front.  Some people mill about; others play accordions on the porch.  But the music coming from the back sounds different from what's on the porch.  You can hear the bass from the road.  On this Saturday night, the rough enclosure that is the performance space is packed."
~ David Thier

I used to be pretty good at conversational french. I've retained enough so I can usually figure out what someone is saying, although I may not remember enough to be able to respond properly.

I can't make heads or tails of that Cajun stuff. It's some other language entirely.

My #1 at work has jury duty next month.
If I can't arrange another backup out of the regional office, my vacation just went in the crapper.


Sunday, April 22, 2012

Sunday morning sleep-in my ass

Sunday morning sleep-in posts, yeah I'm thinking of giving up on them for good.

Pounding down some coffee and getting ready to go in to work.



UPDATE: Back home by 0600. How do you like that shit? I'm still a hero...
My day started and ended before most of you lazy fuckers were out of bed.

P.S. - I'm sipping a delicious single-malt at 0600 on Sunday and watching the sun rise. You guys are really missing out.
I'm taking my ass back to bed shortly, so I guess that counts as a sleep-in. Doesn't it?

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #12 - Where's Johnny Winter?


I had most of today's post pre-written.
Since I posted a great Tom Waits tune the other day (Is there any other kind?) and followed it up with a tribute to Levon Helms the next day; I thought I'd continue the music theme through the weekend.

I log on this morning with limited time before I have to get to work, and find the awesome Johnny Winter blues video has disappeared from my post.

and, of course, I didn't save the link anywhere...and now I can't find it on YouBoob again...


DaddyBear is winning the internets this week, with his Tale of Travel.

...and a bonus from his "News Roundup" (I LOL'd)
From the "What's in a Name?" Department - The state of Alabama has denied access to its alcohol markets to a brand of beer called "Dirty Bastard". The justification for the denial was the use of the term "Bastard" on the label, which has been known to cause the heads of six year olds to explode and make little old ladies spontaneously burst into flames. I suggest that the company that makes the beer rebrand it for Alabama with a title of "Narrow-minded Fascist" and see how that flies.

(I would buy it...)

Go collect your prize, DaddyBear.

An Army Wife Prepper still has that "new blog smell"

Drop in and say Hi.

Y'all have a great weekend.

Inappropriate humor in 3...2....

I have 6, maybe 7 (1/10 as Manly as McQ is a judgement call)
How about you?

Friday, April 20, 2012

My BAG day surprise

I got myself a sweet-ass fucking Colt AR-15 for BAG day.

Too bad I've got to give up that 350Z for it...

Yeah, just kidding. That guy's got a helluva sense of humor...

I hope Nancy can make it to the shoot at The Range on the 28th.

Hey Nancy, you wouldn't happen to have an 18th Century gown in size "Fatass Motherfucker" would you?

Reading that old Chaucer stuff the other day got me on a poetry kick again.



For Levon


Thursday, April 19, 2012

More Tom Waits

So much great blog-fodder out there with Dick Clark passing away, and Uncle Ted getting some love from the Secret Service and all.

I just don't have the heart this morning.


Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Hump-day Hottie

Tanker tells us that Chaucer first presented his Canterbury Tales at the court of King Richard 615 years ago yesterday.
15th Century porn, baby:
There was a housewife come from Bath, or near,
Who- sad to say- was deaf in either ear.
At making cloth she had so great a bent
She bettered those of Ypres and even of Ghent.
In all the parish there was no goodwife
Should offering make before her, on my life;
And if one did, indeed, so wroth was she
It put her out of all her charity.
Her kerchiefs were of finest weave and ground;
I dare swear that they weighed a full ten pound
Which, of a Sunday, she wore on her head.
Her hose were of the choicest scarlet red,
Close gartered, and her shoes were soft and new.
Bold was her face, and fair, and red of hue.
She'd been respectable throughout her life,
With five churched husbands bringing joy and strife,
Not counting other company in youth;
But thereof there's no need to speak, in truth.
Three times she'd journeyed to Jerusalem;
And many a foreign stream she'd had to stem;
At Rome she'd been, and she'd been in Boulogne,
In Spain at Santiago, and at Cologne.
She could tell much of wandering by the way:
Gap-toothed was she, it is no lie to say.
Upon an ambler easily she sat,
Well wimpled, aye, and over all a hat
As broad as is a buckler or a targe;
A rug was tucked around her buttocks large,
And on her feet a pair of sharpened spurs.
In company well could she laugh her slurs.
The remedies of love she knew, perchance,
For of that art she'd learned the old, old dance.

What are you doing there?

Drunk chicks, gotta love 'em.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

BAG Day!

Who am I kidding?

Buy a fucking gun?

After mailing out two slightly-larger-than-$700 checks, (one to Uncle Sam, and one to the Commonwealth of Virginia) I'll be happy to scrape enough out of the change jar to get ammo for the 28th.

Turns out I didn't have to wear the "nut crusher" yesterday. My guy was messing around with the stuck flapper on Sunday afternoon and managed to get it back through the piping until it got caught in the outlet valve of a pump, then he locked the pump out and waited for Monday morning so I could help him pull the piping apart to yank it out of there.

So I asked him, "How'd you get that thing all the way back here to the pump?"

He looked at me calmly, and said, "It would take a really long time to tell you, and you probably don't want to hear it anyway."

I thought about what it would take to get that flapper door to back out of the reducer, go back through the damaged flow control valve (which he had conveniently already replaced with a new one before I showed up Monday morning) and then travel through about 20+ feet of pipe with three 90-degree turns in it to come to rest where it did, just three feet off the floor.

"You're right....I would probably get bored hearing about it."

He just grinned at me and went back to his work.

I love that guy. (No Homo)

For Coffeypot - a truly dedicated Ass man

Monday, April 16, 2012

Yeah! Monday rocks!

Alternative Title: Guest post from my inner masochist.

My guy found out yesterday that a check valve in the plant piping had given up the ghost and sent it's flapper door cruising down the pipe to damage a flow control valve and lodge itself in a reducer.

We talked it out on the phone and decided it could wait until this morning, but it won't wait forever, so I need to get my ass in there early and get to work.

What makes it even better is the only way to get it out of the pipe is going to be cutting the piping open and gluing it back together. (It's 8-inch Schedule-80 PVC) Oh, and of course all this has to happen 12 feet in the air. Another fun-filled day wearing a "nut-crusher" safety harness. Woot!

I make coffee like fucking syrup.

It's been getting stronger and stronger over the years, to the point where no one else in the house will drink from a pot I've made.

When we were out getting violated buying our new blender Saturday, I saw one of those espresso machines. We used to have one years ago, but we never replaced it after it broke down, partly because the cost of quality beans to grind and put in it was getting out of hand.

The price wasn't too bad. So I'm thinking, what kind of espresso would you get if you re-ground regular old coffee into a finer grind and used it in an espresso machine?
Any opinions?


Sunday, April 15, 2012

Sunday Morning

The Meme: "The most scared I've been on the road"

Nancy, JayG, and CTone have rolled out their stories over the last few days.

I really wanted to jump on this one. I've been diggin around in what's left in this old brain, trying to find a suitable story to tell, and I'm coming up empty.
That's not to say I've never been scared behind the wheel. I think the memory just sits differently in the mind of an old adrenaline junky. I don't remember the fear, I only remember the euphoria. (Don't let LabRat hear about that shit. I'll end up analyzed publicly and compared to a poo-flinging monkey or something.)

As I mentioned earlier, the 350Z has been hauled out and cleaned up (somewhat) for the season. Yesterday was the first good run-out she's had. We had to haul a load of garbage to the dump, and then get the Titan dropped off at the shop before noon, so I followed the old lady up into Stafford and back downtown to Pohanka. Once she was in the passenger seat, we headed into the center of town so I could be raped buy a new blender.
I was taking the looooong way around to get where we were going. The top was down and it was about 74 degrees outside with the sun shining. I was in no hurry to get anyplace in particular, simply enjoying the drive. Within the first five or ten minutes she starts into me about how I'm driving wildly, too fast, etc..


I'm seriously curious now. No fucking around. I had been driving quite sedately. So we discussed it for a little while.
She sticks almost exclusively to driving the crew-cab Titan, and the sudden change-over had really freaked her out. She went from sitting about three feet off the ground surrounded by steel and glass, to sitting about eight inches off the ground sorrounded by fresh air. I was obeying all the laws, down to signalling every lane change, the whole nine yards, but the Z just feels faster. Add to that the fact that just about any other traffic on the road is looking down at you, and I guess it can be a bit frightening.

Of course, once we had talked things out, and the old lady was calming down, that's when the jerk-off next to me decided he was going to change lanes to the right...right into the space occupied by our Z.
This has happened to me so often in the Z that I've become rather blase about it. My Baby fits right into everyone's blind spot like a hand in a glove. Full-size pickups are the worst culprits. (That's not to say I hold a grudge against people who drive them. We own one, and my work vehicle I drive daily is an F-150, just to point out that I've seen the issue from both sides.) When did those little parabolic mirrors go out of fashion?
If I have the time and space (which I did on this occasion) I simply drift to the right, keeping my car about a foot away from the perpetrator as I goose it up a little and "magically appear" next the driver's right front fender.
The results are predictable. The driver suddenly notices there is a car already occupying the bit of road they want, and they snap the wheel over and jump back into their lane.

A little shot of adrenaline never hurt anyone...

Except maybe Mrs. B (aka: the old lady).
Don't worry folks, she felt much better after dropping $312 at the the kitschy little specialty shops downtown.

...and I felt much better after a smoothie made from strawberries, grapes, orange juice and vanilla ice cream.

So, Andy says he's good to go for the weekend of the 28th, or maybe a Friday afternoon?
Anyone else?

Oh yeah, the yard work?  Never got to it...

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #11

Two whole days off this weekend.
Man, I've got to be careful, or I could get used to this.

The old lady has my weekend neatly planned out for me...

Haul trash to the dump.
Drop off the truck at the garage.
Go to the kitchen store in Fred'burg and get a blender (This one kills me. No way am I allowed to go to Wally World, or some other big box store and get a regular old blender for her fruit smoothies. Nope. No way. No how. It's gotta be a particular blender from the trendy little specialty shop right in the middle of downtown. I'm bringing along my own bottle of lube. I'm definitely going to walk out of that place feeling violated...)
Grocery shopping
Yard work.

Finish whatever yard work I couldn't yesterday (because I spent too long shopping for a fucking blender)
Clean out the basement
Sunday dinner (The reward. I'm definitely cooking up something nice Sunday. Any suggestions? The weather is supposed to be nice, maybe something on the grill.)

Notice there's no shooting in my weekend plan?
The itch is starting up, though. I'm only gonna last another week or two.
Any NoVA blogers want to put a plan together?
Nancy mentioned The Range in Stafford...


When I first arrived in Okinawa as a young Airman, one of the first people I met was Sgt...oh hell...I've been trying for weeks to remember his name and it just won't come to me.
Anyway, he was the tool room guy. Anyone who has served in Air Force maintenance knows exactly who I'm talking about.
Sure, several people get cycled through tool-room duty. I got it myself for a little while. That's the idea...everyone gets a chance to learn what it takes to care for and meticulously track thousands of tools used daily to maintain our nation's air power.
But there's always that one guy. You know who I'm talking about. He's often the guy in charge back there, and he's going to stay in that tool room until hell freezes over.
He's usually a TSgt., (E-6) who will never cross that magical line to MSgt (E-7). No one trusts him to actually work on an aircraft. He (or she) is usually looked down upon by most of your wrench-benders, ridiculed to the point of insubordination. If you see that guy step out to an aircraft on the flightline, you know the shit has definitely hit the fan.

I actually saw this happen once. Remember, I was active duty when 9/11 happened. Our tool room guy showed up when the call went out for "all hands on deck". The cool thing was, the ridicule stopped when that happened. The guy was so rusty, he couldn't find his ass with both hands, but we all pitched in to help him along and get him into the swing of things.

Let's get back to my story...

So our boy in the tool room out in Oki...we'll call him Sgt Frank-n-Beans...had a unique disfigurement that he liked to share with all newcomers to our island paradise.
The conversation for new Airmen went something like this:

"Hey kid, check this out. I've got a PROS-TET-TIC TEST-TIC-KUL."

He would open his pants and place his junk on the stainless steel counter where we checked our toolboxes in and out. Lifting his 'Frank' up with one hand, he would proudly display his scarred and hairy 'Beans' to whoever was unlucky enough to be standing there.

Seems that, while stationed at Clark AB, Philippines, our boy had a real issue with getting back onto the base before curfew. This was not a problem for him however, as he had a favorite place on the perimeter to jump the fence, and he regularly came back onto the base that way and made his way safely to the barracks.
One night, intoxicated as usual, Sgt Frank-n-Beans was working his way over the fence when he noticed the headlights of an approaching vehicle along perimeter road. Fearing that he would be caught and restricted to base, he quickly worked himself over the barbed wire-topped fence and jumped down on the other side. Unluckily for him, one of those barbs atop the fence neatly speared his left testicle as he swung his leg over. When he jumped (fell) down, it tore his sack open completely, and left his testicle (and a large portion of his pants) hanging from the top of the fence.
Turns out the security forces never saw him at all, it was his screams that made them stop and investigate. Being the true heroes that they were, they quickly tossed him in the back of their pickup and rushed him to the base hospital.

He would relate this whole sordid story while proudly displaying his "Trophy" to whomever was unlucky enough to be standing at the tool counter.

"It's exactly like the original. If it wasn't for the scars, you couldn't tell the difference at all."

"Go ahead, feel it, bet you can't tell the difference."

" thanks, Sarge...looks fine from here."

I'm still traumatized from having to look at the crazy sergeant's ballsack.
I'm doing my disability this year. Maybe I should claim it.
"Air Force scrotal PTSD"...we'll see what the VA says.


Friday, April 13, 2012

Random Friday

Paid my taxes. That sucked, but it's getting better.
(Not better, just easier. I'm finally getting the right amount of taxes taken out of my pension check so I don't have a huge bill at the end of the year)
Our new PLC guy was in yesterday fixing some issues.

A great guy, but he scares me a little bit. Maybe I'm just gun-shy. The only major problem we've ever had at our plant is when the PLCs (both primary and secondary) completely shit the bed and left us unable to run anything for about 72 hours.

He knew how nervous I was, so he couldn't help but fuck with me a little bit. I think he'll work out just fine.

Getting things put together for vacation in May. I just realized yesterday, that shit is only about three weeks out. I've got some stuff to get done between now and then.

North Korean rocket launch FAIL

For Murphy


Thursday, April 12, 2012

Hatin' on Facebook

Mainly because I'm running late this morning, and I don't have time for even the smallest bit of real free ice cream.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Verbal Diahrrea

Jonn Lilyea at This Ain't Hell gets the QOTD.

"The Left wants a more equitable society by making all of our decisions for us, veterans have lived in that world and found it lacking."


XIII. In general, when pushed upon by the enemy, reserve your fire till they approach very near, which will then put them into the greatest surprize and consternation, and give you an opportunity of rushing upon them with your hatchets and cutlasses to the better advantage.

(Why is it, when I read the "hatchets and cutlasses" part, I get a big grin on my face?)
(I think I've been reading too much Michael Z Williamson)

From Roger's Rules of Ranging

Thanks to NJT

Yep, I'm tossing off links and such. (pun intended)
I've finally gotten a couple good war stories written, but I'm saving them for the weekend. Nyah! Nyah!

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

What day is it?

It's just going to be one of those weeks, I can tell already.
I've been up for three hours and just figured out it's Tuesday.
I was feeling much better when I still thought it was Wednesday.

Spent all day yesterday behind the wheel, but I think the new guy is well on his way to getting settled in.

In a month or so, I should be able to go back to working just five days a week.

No real content, just some boobies:

Monday, April 9, 2012

With a little help from my friends

I want to extend a huge Thank You to everyone who jumped in to try to help my new guy find an affordable place to live around here.

He's bringing the family up with him today, and I'm taking most of the day off to help them look around.

We've got some decent leads so far, and some more people to call. Hope we get lucky.

Speaking of helping out friends....

My buddy CTone is a genius with duct tape, but I think he's gone a little too far this time.

Use the link to stop by his blog and let him know if you know any good body shops in Virginia.

Help a brother out...

On this day in 1865, Gen. Robert E. Lee and Gen. Ulysses S. Grant met in the living room of Wilmer McLean's house in Appomatox, where The General surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia to the yankees.

So how's everyone liking that strong federal government now?


Sunday, April 8, 2012

Sunday Morning sleep-in #4 - Happy Easter!

The creepiest Easter Bunny photos ever taken

Thanks for the link Skidmark,.
(and thanks for the help finding rental properties. Your guy called me. He's a freaking dynamo, we'll come up with something for the new kid)

Congratulations to C.J., and the rest of our friends to the north.

Winning one step at a time.

Hey! I've only seen a couple of you guys show up over at Tin & Phoenix to sign up for the book giveaway.

How about some motivation?

Take 5 fucking minutes to stop by there and sign up to get some free shit.
I don't really want to hear about how you don't really need a new book.
Wanna guess at exactly how many fucks I give about whether you've already read that book or not?
The point is to get you knuckle-shufflers to use your paws to stroke something other than your tiny little man-meat.

How's that? Feeling eager to stop by and sign up for the giveaway?

I certainly hope so...don't make me dig deeper into my repertoire... lean forward and choke yourself.

Easter Sunday. Get out there and fire up the grill.
Invite some friends over.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee with the Free Lance Star (#10)

Our local rag.

I'm hiring on a new guy, and he's calling me up complaining about what a tough time he's having finding a place to rent around here. It doesn't help that he's searching from a distance, you find most of the good deals around here by driving around the neighborhoods looking for "Rent" signs.
I understand where's he's coming from. Fredericksburg is rapidly turning into a D.C. suburb, and most of the homes around here are being priced for D.C. commuters. (i.e. - ridiculously high) and let's face it, I don't pay all that much to a new guy just starting out.
So if you know of anyone who's got a decent three-bedroom available in the Fredericksburg-King George-Dahlgren area for $1100 tops, let me know.

Where was I? Oh yeah, so I picked up a copy of the FLS to see if I could find some local listings, and of course I come across an editorial piece by Donnie Johnston.

I believe in the Second Amendment, but...

I own guns, but...

I once even carried a gun, but...

I'm paraphrasing a bit, but you get the point. "Guns are bad. M'kay?"
It reminded me why I don't read the FLS, and probably won't start anytime soon.
I did come across some cool shit though -
The police blotter:

3 unsolved petty larcenies
2 DUI's
1 arrest for shoplifting
1 arrest for grand larceny and posession of stolen property
1 arrest for embezzlement
2 arrests for public intoxication

A regular fucking crime wave...blood in the's the "wild west" out there.

I love this town.
I'm still working six days a week, so my day off consists of a metric shit-ton of chores to do.

The good news is, one of my chores for today is to roll out the 350Z, clean it up, and get it ready for some summertime cruising. Why is it whenever I'm driving it, I hear this song in my head?

Compensating?     Yeah, okay. I can accept that.

My penis can go 140 mph without pulling a muscle...

Fuck yeah!

Friday, April 6, 2012

Having a bad day?

If involved in an accident, move all vehicles safely out of the travel lanes as soon as possible.
Pull over to the shoulder and wait for assistance.

The last words on the video were "[call signs deleted]...I'm on fire...I'm out...Mark!"
He was letting his buds know he was fucked, and he was ejecting. The "mark" let's them get a radar fix on his aircraft at the point of ejection, to help track him down if they lose sight of him.

Air Force pilots only get to do that shit once or twice. Then they're flying a desk.


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Just jerking off

Down to Richmond today; gotta run some errands.

April 5th, 2008.
The end of an era.
Charlton Heston shuffled of this mortal coil.

If you're the guy who's famous for playing Moses in the movies, what kind of a reception do you get at the pearly gates?

Nicole did some "Spoken word Bloggery".

That was cool. I want to try it.
You all could hear what 25 years of whiskey and cigarettes sounds like.

I have no fucking idea how to put that shit on my page. I'll have to wait for Andy to get back from Moscow, or wherever the fuck he is, to exlain this shit to me.

I really have nothing meaningful to say this morning.
Time to hit the shower and get on the road.

Pro Tip: A little "morning workout" in the shower keeps your blood pressure down. (I'm not masturbating; I'm just washing it really fast.)

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

My foray into Bubba-hood

Yes. I teased the hell out of Andy over his Dorking of his Mini-14.

I have a confession to make...I too once let my inner Bubba take over.
My victim was my Ruger 10-22. A fine rifle by any standards.

I picked up the whole bullpup kit for something like $60-70.
This is America; you get what you pay for.

It did give me the opportunity to fiddle with my gun for quite some time, until I realized that no amount of work was going to make it run smoothly or shoot well.

A "MSgt B Certified POS"