And apparently lots of other gun blogger sorts have birthdays in late October. Someone should do a study about that.

Watch this video from where Great Britain Used to Be. If you’re wailing and screaming and huffing and puffing while the object of your aggression stands there calmly and quietly with his hands casually folded in front of him then it is probably a good sign he hasn’t quite felt threatened by you yet.

Via David.

Her: It tastes kinda gamy.

Me: Well, it is game.

Update: Link fixed.

Well, it turns out a potty mouth does more than earn your conversations an R rating: it actually relieves pain, according to a new study by Richard Stephens, John Atkins, and Andrew Kingston of Keele University in the UK. But that’s not all: you’d never know it from what your mom told you, but there are many positive, beneficial aspects of swearing, including harmless venting and social bonding (not to mention reams of adult comedy). Bad language does a lot of good.

Fuck yeah!

Ya know, I’m tempted to have my hair cut into a mullet, get some parachute pants, buy a pair of Vans, wear an AC lightning bolt DC T-shirt and load up my Mp3 player with some Bobby Brown, Paula Abdul, Milli Vanilli and Warrant.

She said if I did that, she wasn’t going. She’s no fun.

Update: Yup, that’s what I got. Tetanus shot. Antibiotics and if no improvement by Monday, a potential hospital stay. Cat bites are apparently serious business.

And if that’s not enough, here’s a video of one.

Today is a good day.

If it goes well, I’ll build another raised garden next year.

Any ideas?

ETA: Speaking of, while I do my Spring cleaning, I like to again prime and season my humidor. Also a good time to replenish your stash. I don’t smoke cigars when it’s cold outside and didn’t notice my supply was light. A quick trip to ThompsonCigar.com remedied that.

And, this week, I cracked the first beer. I don’t drink beer all winter long because they just don’t sound good. But when the weather is warm, beer is good.

Golden Nozzle car wash customer John A. O’Leary was riding through the car wash when he noticed something was terribly wrong. Yards away, fighting for her life inside the car wash was 19-year-old employee Stephanie Carpluk. The lone attendant had taken a short-cut through the car rails and her scarf had become ensnared in one of the wash’s rotating mechanical brushes. The machinery had pulled the scarf tightly around her neck and was quickly strangling her. Unable to free herself, Carpluk passed out. Within seconds, O’Leary sprung from his car and pulled out a pocket knife that he was carrying and cut her free.

UPDATE: Another review here.

But there are a few things that give me pause. For starters, person B (the shooter) had been drinking in a bar before the incident. Compounding that, according to people on the scene (some of whom I know), person B was told that person A was “messing with his car” (I’m paraphrasing), and person B went out there specifically to confront person A. So while person A was indeed trying to fight person B, it’s unclear who started the fight, and it’s also unclear as to whether person B was justified in being afraid for his life. From what I’ve been able to piece together (admittedly from very limited information), without the shooter’s gun, the chances of anyone ending up dead or even seriously injured as a result of the altercation were pretty close to zero. And in any case, if I’m afraid for my life, I don’t go initiate a confrontation.

The crowd at the bar, many of whom know and like person B, seemed to have mixed opinions about whether or not the shooting was justified. The whole thing is a mess, and it makes me just sick. I’m glad I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve even considered pulling a weapon on someone, and I hope I never am.

UPDATE: There are a lot more details here, and they demonstrate the dangerous nature of rumor and innuendo in such matters. It apppears that my person A above was the one who had been drinking in the bar. And the details about someone charging someone else don’t get any mention. Second-degree murder charges have now been filed against the shooter (H/T: commenter chris).

That is all.

Seriously, thanks for letting me blog here from time to time, and I hope everyone here has a great new year!

If you want to annoy some folks, poke fun at a religious figure for what I thought was lavish excess.

And that’s not to disparage the good things the church does.

Update: Wolfwood says Know Your Allies. Ya know, I’m not all anti-religious or anything. And as I’ve said before, I got no issues with God thing. Just an note on my part, as a casual outside observer.

Also, an unrelated bonus flame:

One larger point here is that, while “rising stars” like Sanford and Jindal may be individually compelling, they must operate within a Republican Party that has enthusiastically embraced ignorance on a whole host of subjects, economics included. The issue is whether they can escape these constraints.

So, I didn’t mean you, I meant the other guy.

Update: The offending state was West Virginia. PA is worse. And Pittsburgh drivers suck. That is all.

And I say Mostly uneventful, except for that negligent discharge.

This weekend, I negligently discharged a firearm. Everyone is OK, so no worries. I followed the four rules of firearm safety so no one was hurt. But even following the rules, it can still happen.

A bit back, I wrote of my Walther P22 that I was not a fan of the magazine disconnect safety. I said:

Get rid of the magazine disconnect safety. I cannot decock the pistol without a magazine inserted into the magwell. Why is that considered safer?

Well, it’s not safer. And, no, I am not blaming my negligent discharge on the magazine disconnect safety, rather stating that the magazine disconnect safety led to my actions preceding the negligent discharge. For those not in the know, a magazine disconnect safety essentially renders the trigger non-functioning unless there is a magazine in the weapon. This also means in the case of the Walther P22 that you cannot decock the firearm unless a magazine is inserted into the magazine well. Here’s how it happened:

I get the Walther, and check to be sure that it is clear. It is. No magazine and no round in the chamber. I don’t like to keep the pistol cocked so I set out to decock it.

I insert the magazine and rack the slide. I know have a loaded and cocked weapon. To decock the weapon, I point it at the ground. And, as I’ve done thousands of times, I place my thumb on the hammer to hold it in place as I squeeze the trigger to release the hammer, which will then be eased down by my thumb. Unfortunately, my thumb did not have as sure a grip on the hammer as it should have and I neglected to engage the safety. And I fired the gun. There was a bit of silence and then I finally realized I should say something so I said loudly that everyone in here was OK.

This occurred in front of my gun safe, in my basement. The weapon was aimed at the hard concrete floor (i.e., a safe direction with a sure backstop, as should be the case when handling any weapon). No damage either, except to the padding that covers part of our basement floor. It had a small hole in it. The concrete was mostly unscathed. It looked as though it had been barely scratched. I’m guessing the bullet disintegrated as I could only find a few shavings and a shell casing.

So, even if you’re familiar with handling a gun and have performed a task thousands of times, it still happens. But if you are mindful of the four rules of firearms safety and it happens, nothing and no one will get damaged. Except your ego. That was an eye-opener for me. No longer batting 1,000 in gun safety. And the fact that I felt like a complete moron.

My wife is still pissed.

Be safe out there.

Also, I got a Leatherman Skeletool. I had an old Gerber Multi-Tool that a friend got me. I’ve had that thing for 18 years as of yesterday. I got to the beach and needed pliers only to discover that the Gerber tool would no longer open. Looks like a bolt/rivet in the pliers themselves came loose and, as such, the pliers won’t come out the top. That pretty much renders it useless. Still, it was a good tool and I recommend it.

But the Skeletool is a bit better, I think. First, it is much lighter due to all the holes drilled in it. Second, it’s smaller too. Due to that, I can carry it in my pocket, unlike the Gerber which I kept in my truck console. Also, the Skeletool’s knife blade can be opened with one hand, unlike the Gerber. And there are a variety of bits available for the Skeletool and they are easier to change than trying to change bits on a Gerber, which involves taking it apart.

A couple of cons on the Skeletool though: there is no serrated saw blade, like the Gerber had. There is also no file. I never used the latter but the former came in handy quite a bit.

Me: Can you pull the trigger on this?

The Mrs: (points in safe direction and pulls trigger) Yes I can. Why?

Me: Just making sure. You couldn’t pull the trigger on my Sigs. That’s why I now have Glocks.

The Mrs: What?

Me: Well, we went to the range and you couldn’t pull the double action trigger on my Sigs so I sold them and replaced them with Glocks.

The Mrs: That’s so sweet.

It’s the little things.

From Home Life

Click to embiggen.

If so, what do you do with them?

My wife, not known for zingers, said:

“If Obama wins, probably a lot sooner.”

Heh. That’s funny, I don’t care who you are.

Sheep have only two speeds – graze and stampede.

Via reader John.

Those who believe in and hope for success often find themselves getting their asses kicked by people that actually work hard.

Don Gwinn (paraphrased) at the ParaUSA event.

I would say Tequila tastes like hagfish slime except that we now know that tastes like eggs.

What kills me, though, is that no matter how much I tell people that I absolutely hate tequila with the fiber of my being, they still tell me that I just haven’t had good tequila yet. Invariably, I have a conversation with someone that goes like this:

Them: Oh, you’ll like this tequila it’s so smooth (Ed Note: it is usually Patrón).

Me: No, I just don’t care for tequila.

Them: No, this stuff is like $200 per bottle (Ed note: that may be wrong but is from memory but it puts at about $3.38 per ounce). Really, it’s smooth. You’ll like it!

Me: No, I won’t. I promise. You can save your $3.38. Smooth crap is still crap, it just came from a blender.

Them: Try it.

Me: No thanks. Really. You chase it with a lime for a reason, ya know. To get the taste of ass out of your mouth.

Them: Haha. No, you’ll like this. Try it. (repeat this about five times before I finally cave)

Me: Ok, but I won’t like it. (I usually cave realizing that, though it’s going to suck ass, this conversation will continue for the next two hours if I do not do a shot). And don’t act hurt when I tell you that I don’t like it.

Here’s where I take a shot, eat a lime real fast, and make the face of a man who just ate turds.

Them: You like it?

Me: No. I told you I wouldn’t. It tastes like tequila, which happens to taste like shit.

Them: You just don’t know good tequila.

Me: Oh, I know it. That was it. And it still tastes like moldy balls.

Them: You’re just uncooth.

Me: No, I just don’t like tequila. I tried to tell so you could save your $3.38.

I tried lying once stating that I did like it. But that was no good because they wanted me to do another shot. Ick.

So, World, please stop asking me to try your tequila.

Conversation with hygienist in regard to the voice recognition gizmo that records numbers that somehow correlate to gum health.

Hygienist: I became a hygienist because I can’t count.

Me: I became an accountant because I can’t count. Or do math.

Hygienist: You’re an accountant? You don’t act like an accountant.

Me: I don’t feel like an accountant.

I blame the gas.

My wife also decided to call during the cleaning. I answered AAWWWAAWWW (hello). She said Oh, you’re at the dentist. At first I thought you were being kidnapped.

* Jack Daniels is for posers.

Mmmmm.

via guav.

He ain’t big as a fart.

Never heard that before. Ok, then.

When you turn off the water from the water heater, turn on the sink so it drains. This will save you some cussing at the water heater for not working right. The cussing doesn’t convince the water heater to do anything, btw.

Cold showers suck.

If you don’t shave, everyone at the office notices.

Cold showers really suck.

And to save your self some time and aggravation in the future, do not allow your wife to store a treadmill, two heavy boxes of paperwork, an old trash can full of unused sporting equipment, a steam cleaner, a vacuum, and boxes of old children’s clothes in front of the water heater. You may need to get to it quickly one day.

I’m serious, cold showers suck.

Update: Cause of leak, sheet rock screw pierced a pipe.

Robb offers his $0.02. Heh.

To say I like my martinis dry is an understatement. My recipe is simple. And my friends will attest that this is the recipe I follow:

Put three olives (good ones, not cheap ones – all preference really) on a toothpick. Stick said toothpick into a cocktail glass.

In a cocktail mixer, add ice and vodka of choice (I go with Grey Goose). I use vodka because gin tastes like ass err Pine-Sol. Look at mixer and say the word vermouth. Shake. Pour into glass over olives.

There you go.

But this fashion trend of putting men in skinny clothes and having them apply lipstick is too much. Who seriously thought this would be fashionable? Or even remotely popular?

BTW, Breda’s title: I would not hit that. That had me laughing. And it had me thinking about a post here from a bit back:

Ah, euphemisms for doin’ it. And, ladies, if you wonder what men are doing when they’re quiet on the couch and appear to be in deep thought, it’s thinking of those.

Then we listed some, like:

But, you know, what would you come up with for not hitting it?

Not hitting it jokes are definitely harder, once you get past sports analogies.

It is MY EXPERIENCE that even while you men complain about the size of our purses, we are often asked to HOLD your things because we have room for them!

I’m constantly being asked by my boyfriend to put his camera, keys or something or other in my purse, because he doesn’t have room in his pockets!

I respond with:

I don’t complain about the size just the fact that she carries too much crap and can’t find any of the crap she carries. If I needed insulin, I would under no circumstance keep it in my wife’s purse.

Wallet
Keys
Watch
Wedding Band
Kel-Tec in holster
Extra mag for Kel-Tec
Phone (which has mp3 player, camera, GPS, and games!)
Knife

That’s it. You can drop me off almost anywhere in the country with those items and I’ll likely be fine. With the contents of my truck, it goes from almost anywhere to seriously anywhere.

What else do I need?

The Mrs. carries a monstrous purse. And she can never find her phone.

I don’t know why but last night I decided to count them.

Update: I mentioned it to the wife. I was wrong. We have 16.

Update: Up to 17 now if you count the one under the shredder.

But remember, I’m paranoid.

Well, now they’ve gone and impressed me again with their Heller brief:

A collective rights decision by the court would violate the contract by which Montana entered into statehood, called the Compact With the United States and archived at Article I of the Montana Constitution. When Montana and the United States entered into this bilateral contract in 1889, the U.S. approved the right to bear arms in the Montana Constitution, guaranteeing the right of “any person” to bear arms, clearly an individual right.

There was no assertion in 1889 that the Second Amendment was susceptible to a collective rights interpretation, and the parties to the contract understood the Second Amendment to be consistent with the declared Montana constitutional right of “any person” to bear arms.

As a bedrock principle of law, a contract must be honored so as to give effect to the intent of the contracting parties. A collective rights decision by the court in Heller would invoke an era of unilaterally revisable contracts by violating the statehood contract between the United States and Montana, and many other states.

I’m with Robb with two Bs, I need to find work there.

With all this talk about how it’s difficult to tell toy guns from real ones, if you see a gun-shaped object then it is in your best interest to assume it is a gun and act accordingly.

Sincerely,

Self

Update: Confederate Yankee has more.

Just now, I was going back reading some posts. I found I quite often just forget to type words or type them too many times.

A good way to screen for men who are both willing and able to invest is to demand an expensive gift–known as a courtship gift or nuptial gift in evolutionary biology. Not just any expensive gift will do. A Mercedes or house does not usually fill the bill–for these might have intrinsic value to the man if he likes European cars or is interested in real estate. A courtship gift, according to the book, must be costly and lack intrinsic value and be useless.

Boy, this talk of evolutionary biology is sexy, no?

The Mrs. is more practical than that. For Valentines Day this year, she wanted shelving. SayUncle is opposed to buying diamonds for political reasons (diamond mining is deplorable; it funds violence in Africa; and diamonds fund terror groups). But I’ve been known to buy other baubles and such. I suppose this also explains why flowers are a good gift too. After all, they are useless and just sit in the house and die. But The Mrs. likes those, though being the practical sort, she forbids me from buying them anywhere near Valentine’s Day because the prices are ridiculous. Oh, and did I mention she’s frugal?

Men, however, like toys which may or may not be useless. Things that light up, go boom, etc.

Seems like today is going well. This much good stuff can’t happen at once. I suddenly find myself preparing to be disappointed by something big.

Interesting note is that your vasa deferentia are white. Yeah, I watched. Even more bizarre, so did the Mrs.

Be in bed most of tomorrow. Maybe blog, may not.

You will be severed
Thanks for carrying my genes
Now, to shave my dudes

In case you couldn’t tell, it’s vasectomy day! We’ve decided we’re done having children.

By the way, all the literature my doc gave me on the procedure has images. In all those images, the jimmy in question is standing at attention. I don’t think that during such a procedure, that would be the case. But we can’t show flaccid ones lest we shatter our male egos. I blame the patriarchy.

Well, dinner just consisted of collard greens with chicken and dumplings.

And go Vols! Never thought I’d see 4^th and 36!

Update: Despite my encouragement, the Vols did not go. And, at Kohl’s today, UT clothing was 50% off. Ouch.

2 – I went to the bus station. Seems you need to be careful at any place you order stuff online that offers free shipping. They used Greyhound Express and I had to go pick up the items. That’s a pretty shady part of town.

I thought someone was in my house. I told Junior to stay put. Retrieved El Nino* from the safe (whole process took about five seconds). And went upstairs. Politically Incorrect Dog continued his hell-raising, ear-splitting barking. He was staring at the door. I set El Nino down by the banister and looked out the door. Two Jehovah’s Witnesses. At night. Repeatedly knocking and ringing the doorbell where there is a sleeping child. While an obviously angry dog kept barking at them. I guess they’re persistent. I looked at them through the door, shook my head, and walked away. You might get more converts if you weren’t such pricks.

The Second, thankfully, is a sound sleeper and slept through it. Of course, he slept through the alarm one night when I accidentally set it off.

To add to the story, the Mrs. was pulling into the subdivision and noticed the Jehovah’s Witnesses at our door. She did another lap to avoid them. She had the same reaction as I did. Seriously, it was night time you twits.

* Why El Nino? Because at close range, I can put 10 in an eyeball.

Stop arterial bleeding

[...]

Read a children’s book aloud with funny voices

Useful skills to have. I think I’d add:

Clean a carcass

Purify water

Tie a knot (including one for a fishhook)

Know the lyrics to at least ten kids’ songs

Break up a dog fight

Junior loved the beach. The Second took some time to warm up to it. And he’s got the trots diarrhea*. And diaper rash.

But other than that, we’re having a good time.

* The Mrs. says trots sounds trashy.

2 – Blogging from me will be light. Gotta do all that crap that’s gotta be done prior to vacation. So, guest bloggers can run amok.

3 – Will the asshole that runs this site please stop pinging my site. And something goofy is going on. I keep telling wordpress and SK2 to ban the URL and it still gets through. Feh.