Irony
Heh.
Got Junior out of the shower and then put The Second in the tub. I was sitting around when my wife walks in and says: You need to talk to your son. He has a question about his balls.
I sat there for a moment pondering what exactly a four year old could ask about his junk. And I settled on things like: What are they for? Why are they fun to play with? Why does it hurt when I get hit in them?
You know, typical ball stuff. Because, frankly, I had no idea what he was about to ask.
I walk in to the bathroom and he’s in the tub checking himself out. And I say Your mom said you had a question about your dudes? Then, he does something that if I did would cause me to lose the ability to walk for a few minutes. With a firm grip, he asks me Why they have “cracks” in them? I tell him that those are veins and blood vessels. I show him that he has the same on his arms. And explain blood flow as best I can to a four year old. He seems satisfied with that answer.
Then he asks why they feel like grapes.
I have no idea.
With kids, you mentally prepare for something, and it never goes the way you prepare for.
That’s pretty much the only reason I need to take a class.
There’s a bit of debate on training classes and their relative effectiveness going on in the gun blogs:
Words can kill
Not all training is good training
Some good discussion here but, for the record, “need” has nothing to do with it.
Seems to me that everyone is right. A training class is not the end all be all of preparedness. Nor does anyone have any sort of moral obligation to take one. And not taking a training class is not justification for taking rights away. Ever. But you will probably learn something new. And you will get practice. And you likely will practice something that you don’t really do in your ordinary range sessions. And you will have fun. And, at the end of the day, you’re playing a game. And those are good things. But you’re not going to transform into an uber-cool, suburban operator with a tactical mini-van.
Take the class, if you feel like it. Have fun. You might learn something.
And, for the record, under no circumstance will I ever take a class that has me standing in front of the line of fire. That increases my chances of getting shot from roughly zero to something greater than zero. An instructor teaching a class, even the best instructor in the world, is always limited by his dumbest student. No thanks. “Big boys” make “big boy” decisions like that.
Once more, rumors of an iPhone for Verizon. The time for that, guys, was three years ago. That is why Android phones have been outselling iPhones.
I would have happily bought an iPhone. Years ago.
Three law enforcement agencies and a helicopter search to locate a stolen droid phone. And the thief gets away. I just spend the extra $3 a month for the insurance.
If only there was another way to locate smart phones?
TickerGuy says that banks are unlawfully paying people to break into your home prior to foreclosure. The question is could they lawfully be met with deadly force?
Remember those government employees following government rules and letting house burn as sanctioned by government regulations contracted with another government? Seems that is a fundamental flaw in libertarian philosophy.
Ok, then.
It’s better than free: State of TX giving grants to counties to exterminate feral hogs.
Dear guys and gals,
I’m glad you take the time to remind me at least twice per week via email about your NRA endorsed insurance programs. And I like that you do so even though I already have purchased insurance through you guys. It lets me know you care.
15 year old gets 12 months for “filing a false report”. Counselor escorting her rapes her, has a decade long history of raping other clients, and receives probation.
The Outback Jacket has over 20 pockets and looks nothing like a shoot me first vest:
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| From Stuff |
For those times when your tactical pants run out of room.
I dunno. Looks to me like if that revolver in the second pic is anything but a 22, she’s about to have a sore head.
Remember, I do this to entertain me, not you.
Uncle Pays the Bills
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