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.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Sunday morning sleep-in #101

Staying up near Panama City for the rest of the weekend.

Helluva drive up from Ellenton today yesterday. Holiday weekend don't'cha know...
Wasn't too bad until we hit I-10. At about mile marker 150, a car-carrier had caught can imagine the rest.
We had planned on a couple hours to tour the Panama City area before going to Aunt N and Uncle D's place for dinner, but we ended up just checking into the hotel and heading straight down to their "compound".

Bless their hearts. They're hardcore preppers.
Aunt N was an OR nurse for many years, so in addition to the usual suspects, (gun safe, a year of food, an isolated location) they've got medical equipment for a small field hospital in there.

Color me impressed.

Today we'll be touring the area and looking for nice neighborhoods.

Mrs B's criteria:  Four bedrooms, nice kitchen, a good master bed/bath combo with a walk-in closet.

MSgt B's criteria:  If I can't have yardbirds running around outside, fuck that place. (a roof would be nice)


Saturday, August 30, 2014

Saturday Morning Coffee #121

In the hotel in Ellenton, FL.

We drive up to Panama City in a bit, once I wash down this hangover with some lobby coffee.

We had dinner at a nice little place on the Manatee river, I can't even remember the name of it now. Only thing I know for sure was that it wasn't Woody's.

Ended up hanging around by the hotel pool with a guy I work with occasionally, sipping JD and getting schnockered.

Mrs B gets "drunk voice" really bad when she gets hammered. Wish I'd had a recorder.

Senegal joins the Ebola Club


I'm sorry.
I have no excuse for posting that.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Empty Promises

Listening to our president bloviating on the radio yesterday:

He went on about how the "separatists" in Ukraine were fully backed by Russia, to include actual Russian soldiers and armor invading the sovereign territory of Ukraine.
He sounded all tough and everything. A very impressive performance.

Until he was asked what action the U.S. would take...

His response was, (and I'm paraphrasing here) "You're on your own, bitches."

Back in 1994, the Rooskies, Yankees and Limeys all sat down with Ukraine (the Ukies?) and made several important promises:

1) We respect your independence and sovereignty
2) We'll never use or threaten force, nor will we provide the weapons for that purpose
3) We'll never use economic force against you
4) If someone uses force against you, we'll all call on the UNSC to help you
5) We won't nuke your ass
6) If anything ever happens to call these promises into question, we'll all sit down together and sing Kumbayaaa.

...and they believed all that horse-hockey.

Har Har  What a bunch of rubes.

You know, it reminds me...

'94 was when I learned my first lessons on world diplomacy. I was a young Airman on one of my first deployments in a third-world shit-hole, staring around me at the craptastic desolation and incredible stench of destitution and misery, I commented on the injustice of exploitation, etc, etc..

An old NCO said to me, "Son, these third-world countries are here to be exploited. If we're not doing the exploiting, someone else will. Now shut up and get back to work."


Thursday, August 28, 2014

On The Road Again

Dragging the old lady down to Florida with me so we can stop in Panama City on the way home and get started on some house hunting.

Time once again to move.

So we spent last night just fucking around on Facebook and BS-ing.

I tried to grab every offensive post Michael Z Williamson put on Facebook and share it on with other friends of mine.
I had to give up. It was just too much of a job for one man.

My hat is off to you sir.


Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Hump Day Rule 5 - Maya Gabeira

A little less than a year ago, Maya damn near bought the farm surfing the big waves off Portugal.

The video is all in Portuguese, but well worth watching.

That's tough enough.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Time for some Horse-Trading

I just finished Orphanage and Orphan's Journey by Robert Buettner.

The only bad thing about that is that they're book 1 and 3 of a five-book series.

Orphan's Destiny
Orphan's Journey
Orphan's Alliance
Orphan's Triumph

Who's got the other three?
I have a whole pile of paperbacks available for trade. Science Fiction, Military Fiction, Murder Mysteries, etc, etc..
I will trade two-for-one for the remaining three books in Buettner's series.
Let me know, and I'll send you a list to choose from.

P.S. - Yes, I know damn well I could just look them up on Amazon and have them on the way to me today, but where's the fun in that?

P.P.S. - No. I don't trade any Mike Z., OldNFO, BRM, Anti-Soma, MHI or Brigid. Sorry. Those are keepers.


Monday, August 25, 2014

Did I Just Get a Warm Fuzzy?

The British papers are saying that this guy...

The one in the black pajamas

is probably actually this guy...

"L Jinny"

For a lot of years, I've been watching some poor schmuck (usually American) get his fucking head cut off on YouTube.

We used to joke around about that shit. Me and my buddies. Wandering around in some third-world shit-hole. We always used the buddy system. 
We would say to each other, "Just don't let me get my head cut off on some YouTube video, man."

Har Har

I spent a few years living in England. I even got to know some of the squadies, did a few rounds at the pub with them.
I was stationed there when 9-11 happened. God, that was a crazy time. Not one of those boys failed to come up to me and offer his condolences; along with a promise that they would do whatever they could to set things straight.

Well, here's your chance, Gentlemen.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Sunday morning sleep-in #100

Feeling patriotic this morning.

Gabby has me feeling even more patriotic than usual.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Saturday Morning Coffee #120

Hellified long week.

It finally caught up with me. I crashed hard yesterday. For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to sit down on the couch for a few minutes around three in the afternoon.

Woke up at seven.

Fuck it. I went right back to bed at ten and slept until six this morning.

Feeling much better now.

Our two Ebola patients were released this week from the hospital in Atlanta.

How long before the unknown zombie side effects from the Z-mapp kick in?


Wednesday, August 20, 2014


No Hump Day Rule 5 post this morning.
Just work stuff getting in the way of blogging. (As it should be)

Here...a consolation prize.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

No Plan Survives...

So Sunday I drive my ass out to Macon GA so I can be on site early Monday morning. My plan is to wrap things up there by lunch time and get my ass back home. I don't have anywhere else I have to be until I need to be in Decatur AL first thing Wednesday morning. Tuesday was going to be a slack off and catch up on paperwork day.

Noon on Monday I get the call, jump in my truck in Macon, and I'm in Decatur Monday night so I can be on site by 0830 Tuesday morning.

Tuesday Morning at 0700 I get the call, meeting is actually at 0800.
Oops, sorry man. Can you get here?

I made it there.

Now I'm home in B-ham. Tired out, cranky and I still have to be in Decatur at 0800 tomorrow for the original meeting.


I believe these are rubber bullets, can anyone confirm?


Monday, August 18, 2014

Still Hate Mondays

The Holiday Inn Express in Perry, Georgia is worth the $100.

Looks like they just refurbished the place from top to bottom, and they did a good job.

Kinda out in the boonies, but there's an Applebee's right across the street, and a half-dozen other decent places within a few minutes drive.

Getting an early start. If I can get my work done in time, I can be home tonight.

That's all that really matters, isn't it?

For Old NFO


Sunday, August 17, 2014

Sunday morning sleep-in #99

Post something on the Blog
Go to the bank
Clean out the truck
Grocery shopping
Mow the lawn
House chores
Catch up on paperwork
Make reservations for next week's travel

Not bad for an intentionally slow day.
I can get my paperwork wrapped this morning, and clean out the truck just before I get back on the road for the week.
Problem is, I'm only sure about my travel plans through the first couple days. After that, it gets hazy.
I know I need to start the week in Macon, GA, and I'll wrap things up Friday in Mobile, AL.
So that's a start, anyway.

Boy is my gun dirty.

That's not a euphemism.

Not dirty as in powder residue and lead fouling, but dirty as in lint, sweat, grime, etc..
I carried it around with me yesterday while running my errands. When I pulled it off and cleared it yesterday afternoon, I noticed the fuzzy bits of lint in the little gap that shows you if your chamber is loaded or not. So I ended up cleaning it (and the holster) last night.
Not much of a task, but I felt cheated just the same, having to clean my gun without getting any of the range time first.


Saturday, August 16, 2014

Saturday Morning Coffee #119

Post something on the Blog
Go to the bank
Clean out the truck
Grocery shopping
Mow the lawn
House chores
Catch up on paperwork
Make reservations for next week's travel


Thursday, August 14, 2014

I've Seen This Movie

The World Health Organization has authorized the use of an experimental new drug to treat the deadly virus, Ebola.

The drug, named ZMapp, (emphasis mine) has been used on several patients already, with mixed results.

Why does this sound to me like the opening line in a George Romero movie?


We're going to come up with a vaccine for Ebola and everyone is going to scramble and fight to be the first on their block to get it.

Too bad it causes you to turn into a zombie when you die...

Why does no one else see this coming?

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Sunday morning sleep-in #98

"Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery."

Winston Churchill

I just finished Dan Simmons' Flashback last night.

Great book.  Fun read.

Democracy and socialism have nothing in common but one word, equality. But notice the difference:  while democracy seeks equality in liberty, socialism seeks equality in restraint and servitude.

Alexis de Tocqueville


Saturday, August 9, 2014

Saturday Morning Coffee #118

My Pig Story  - Inspired by The Adaptive Curmudgeon

This is from way back in Junior High School. I must have been 13 or 14 tops.

I used to hang out with these two brothers, Dave and Rob.
They were straight up white trash, right out of Boon-fucking-docks, South Carolina.
They were good guys, for the most part. Rob ended up in jail eventually...Dave, I don't know for sure.

One spring break they invited me and another guy to go back to the old homestead for Easter vacation. We really had a blast.
We drove an old '65 Chevy Valiant around on red dirt roads, going to the swimming hole and back. We shot an absolutely incredible amount of squirrels. We generally had a good old time down on the farm, but the best part of the whole trip was dinner on Easter Sunday.

The whole story actually starts on Good Friday...
"Uncle Junior" stopped by the house and asked Dave and Rob's paw if we could help with "gettin' in the hog" for Easter. All of us boys thought that sounded like a great idea. It had a grown-up sound to "gettin' in the hog" was just as important as "burnin' back the south field" or "roofin' the tractor shed".

So we all piled into the back of Uncle Junior's tetanus farm pickup truck, and headed over to another farm just a "country" mile down the road. (about a half-hour away). Of course, along the way, we had to stop at Uncle Junior's trailer to pick up his gun. While we were there, we helped out by clearing all the empty beer cans from the front lawn.
It wasn't long before Uncle Junior came back out of the trailer with the oldest top-break .22 (maybe .32?) revolver I think I've ever seen in my life. (Except some of those antiques that Tam and Roberta keep around, but those don't count because they're only pictures on the internets.) It only had a little bit of rust on it, and Uncle Junior let us test it out by firing a few rounds each at some crabapples. It worked like a charm.

A short time later, we showed up at the pig farm. The owner led us over to a pen full of hogs, and waited patiently while Uncle Junior appeared to weigh the benefits of each hog's bone structure and lineage for about thirty minutes or so. Finally, Uncle Junior settled on a fine looking spotted hog, and the pig farmer jumped into the pen and rustled the single hog over into another corral about 30 feet away. This involved a great deal of kicking and cursing, enough that I began to suspect maybe the hog had an idea that something funny was going on. Once he was in the little low-fenced corral by himself, he simply stood there near the middle, watching us out of the corner of his eye, while the pig farmer took himself off back to the house, with a handful of cash from Uncle Junior.

Uncle Junior walked up to the side of the little corral, pulling a handful of what was obviously "pig-candy" from the left pocket of his overalls. He dumped some on the ground and our little hog friend ("little" being about 200-250 lbs) ran right over and began snuffling in the dirt for it. Uncle Junior pulled out a second helping, dropping it in the same spot, while his right hand pulled that old top-break out of his right pocket and pointed it straight down at the top of the hog's head.


The hog dropped straight down on it's belly. A small spurt of blood erupting from the top of it's head for just a moment. A clean shot if I ever saw one. Uncle Junior slid the pistol back into his pocket and turned away, saying "I'll get the gate." while the four of us boys clambered over the fence. It was obviously going to be our job to carry said hog and load it into Uncle Junior's E-coli farm truck bed for the ride back to "Mama's" house. We rolled the hog over and each grabbed a leg, lifting him up and walking not-quite-in-tandem towards the gate Uncle Junior was holding open. It was at that time that the hog decided to wake up and let us know his personal opinions on chittlin's, bacon, smoked butts and spareribs.

That fucker thrashed and let out a scream like I've never heard from a hog before or since. He broke free of us before we knew what the hell was going on, and was on his feet and making a run for it while we stood dumbly staring at his retreating backside. Uncle Junior slammed the gate shut and hollered "Dammit boys! Catch 'im!"

Ever watch four boys, each weighing in at about a buck-twenty five, trying to catch a wounded and pissed off hog weighing 200+ pounds? Yeah. That worked out about as well as you'd expect. Ten minutes later, all four of us were standing outside the corral, covered in dust and pig's blood and catching our breath, while the hog stood still in the middle of the pen, keeping a wary eye on us. At least one eye anyway, the other one tended to wander around...

The farmer came strolling back from the house, thoughtfully chewing some tobacco and cradling a rifle over his arm. "Junior, all that runnin' aroun' ain't good for the meat." He stepped up behind the pig, shoulder his rifle, and dropped it neatly where it stood. The whipcrack of the rifle coming so suddenly, the four of us jumped, glancing at each other and grinning sheepishly at our surprise. The farmer strolled on back toward the house without a word or backward glance.

Well, we loaded that hog and took it back to Mama's house, spending that night and all the next day helping with the scalding, cleaning and butchering of that big boy. I can't remember one bit of that hog going to waste. It was divided up among all the members of Mama's extended family. Mama giving direction throughout the whole process, making sure that all the bits she wanted for the Easter dinner were butchered in exactly the correct manner. I don't remember the meal itself as well as I remember "gettin' in the hog".
I remember eating until I thought I would bust, then sitting around a campfire late that night surreptitiously pouring sloe gin into my Coke can and listening to Uncle Junior's war stories.

We had done a little amateur autopsy once we got the hog back to Mama's house and started the butchering. Turns out the small pistol round hadn't penetrated the hog's skull. It had slid around the side under the skin, gone down through the neck, and exited under the hog's right "armpit". Just enough to knock him out for a minute.

Hog's skulls are thick, so Rule #1 applies. "Bring enough gun".

Uncle Junior* was probably just holding it wrong anyway...

* Everyone our age in that town called him "Uncle Junior". Everyone from his generation or older just called him "Junior". You may joke about inbreeding now...


Thursday, August 7, 2014

The Things I Worry About

Back to Ebola

I'm still rattled by the Ebola thing. The numbers announced by BBC yesterday were disturbing.
The death count has gone from 700+ to 900+ in one week. That's two hundred dead bodies in one week.
The Ebola virus has never been able to turn in scores like that before.

They also mentioned the five, count 'em onetwothreefourfive health workers who were infected by the one guy who flew into Lagos with the disease.

There's something we're not getting about this new strain of Ebola.
I know I've gone on about an airborne strain, which is pretty much the worst nightmare scenario I can think of, but viruses like Ebola are mutating all the time. It doesn't necessarily have to mutate into an airborne strain to become more dangerous. A hardier version that has the ability to survive outside the host for 24 hours vs 12 hours, or maybe a strain that becomes contagious before onset of symptoms, could explain the phenomenal jump in the numbers we're seeing.  

As usual with any mainstream media, the only thing I can be sure of is that we're not getting the real story.

What makes good trade?

All of you prepper types certainly have a good supply of food, fuel and ammo stashed away, but are you going to trade any of it?

When it comes to trade, you can buy a lot with "comfort" items:

Chocolate/Hard candy
Bic lighters
Hand warmers
First aid items/medications

You get the idea.


Tuesday, August 5, 2014


Yesterday, I posted best wishes to my buddy Stacey Campfield.

Today, I'd like to share one of my regular reads with you.

Fascist Dyke Motors

It's a Jungian thing.

Given my record with female bloggers who's blogs I've read regularly, there's about a 1 in 4 chance that this one is a chunky, middle-aged dude with a beard. 
Don't blame me. 


Monday, August 4, 2014

Go Stacey!

Good luck on the 7th.
I hope you pull in another win. You've got those Tennesseathens headed in the right direction.

Just one thing.
I think Tennessee could certainly benefit from a new state holiday...

"Crimson Tide" day.

It's time all those Bama fans came out of the closet. You could have a "Bama Pride Parade".

P.S. - Stacey Campfield is the first guy I ever heard this joke from...

How hot is it?
Hotter than a Bama fan's love letter to his cousin.


Sunday, August 3, 2014

Sunday morning sleep-in #97

Nothing makes you feel your age like helping your daughter move into a third floor walk-up.

What is deadlier, Ignorance or Arrogance?

I guess maybe our CDC was feeling left out of the really good epidemics, so they brought one here to play with.

Certainly, the guy's chances of surviving Ebola just went from 30% to 50%.
I wish him the best of luck.


Going to spend the day resting up and hanging out in Williamsburg.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Saturday Morning Coffee #117

24 hours road time in two days.

Drove from Miami to Birmingham on Thursday; from Birmingham to Fredericksburg on Friday; now it's time to help Miss B pack up and move down to Williamsburg today.



Wirecutter before rehab.

Everybody's much happier now that they guy's sober.