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.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Saturday morning coffee #9

Let's see what we've got here...

Aha! Here we go...,

Welcome the the free State of PIG

I can't remember who first turned me on to this website. I would have liked to have at least given out a Hat Tip. I should keep better notes.

When we lived in England, we would have milk delivered to our door every week.

Bright and early on Monday morning, two quarts of cow's milk would appear on our doorstep. The milkman would take away the empty quart bottles we rinsed and left out.

Those were probably the best Monday mornings I ever experienced. I would wake up before dawn, as I usually do, and get my pot of coffee going. Man coffee. Not some wimpy instant crap. Fill that little basket up with some fresh-ground beans. (If the smell alone doesn't give you a buzz, it's not strong enough.) I would sit quietly in the kitchen, watching the pot fill slowly, letting the anticipation build until it was almost unbearable. When I saw that the magic was almost complete, I would break free from that hypnotic aroma and pad softly out to the side door.

This next was a very important step in the process. I would be wearing only boxers and a T-shirt. Early mornings in England are 'brisk'. I don't care if it's the middle of August, that special moment just before the sun rises has a cold, damp touch in the air. (The colder the better. This moment was particularly special in January) I would open the locks and turn the knob, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath...then fling the door open quickly, allowing the wash of that chill air to envelop me, carrying with it the invigorating smells of field and farm. (Men have nipples too, you know.) The cold would add it's careless bite to the caress of the breeze caused by the door, raising goose bumps over my entire body. (If the milkman was running late...well, just picture me in boxers and T-shirt at 0530, flinging open the door with a look of mad hunger on my face. At least he had plenty to talk about at the pub.)

The bottles were never close to the door. I had to step both bare feet onto the brick porch to reach them. In the dead of winter, the cold would pierce the bottoms of my feet like hundreds of tiny needles. I would rush my treasure back into the house, scrambling to close the door and latch it without fumbling and dropping on of those precious bottles. I would stand for a moment in the parlor, letting the cold of the bottles soak into the palms of my hands, as the warmth of the carpet soaked into the soles of my feet.

We're not at the magic moment yet, just a few more steps...

I would place one bottle on the counter, and one into the refrigerator, then get my mug from the cabinet. Sugar always went into the mug first, one spoonful, heaped with as much sugar as it could possibly hold. I would pour the potent brew slowly on top of this sweetness, stirring gently as the mug filled. After this, the spoon would be rinsed and dried carefully on a dishtowel. Placing the prepared spoon on the counter, I would slowly peel back the foil lid of the bottle, watching the rind of sweet, pure cream jiggling atop the milk. The trick is to slide the spoon down along the inner edge of the bottle and twist it deftly around, simultaneously scooping the cream upwards. The glob will be runny and slippery,trying to escape the bowl of the spoon like a raw oyster. A very steady hand is vital. All drips and drabs of cream on the outside of the bottle and on the counter must be cleaned up immediately. (With the tongue)

Then the magical moment happens. This sweet drop of the very best that nature has to offer is stirred gently into the mug of crack coffee. Drink one cup of coffee like this, and your life will never be the same.

Bonus round: Remember that second bottle? By the time it gets opened, two or three days later, the cream on top has grown three times it's original size and congealed into something like soft cream cheese, only sweeter. I would scoop it out with a butter knife and spread it directly onto a piece of toast. (If I could get to it before my wife did.)

This morning I brewed my pot of generic, pre-ground Folger's whatever. (Real coffee has gotten too expensive)
I add two scoops of sugar and a healthy dollop of homogenized, pastuerized milk product.

It's not all bad.

Today we go down to Appomattox for the grand opening of the new branch of the Museum of the Confederacy. Old NFO is planning on meeting us down there. Sitrep to follow...

Congratulations Wirecutter.

Friday, March 30, 2012

For Andy

I ran across this on Facebook, and I just couldn't help myself.

Dedicated to Andy, the computer geek, who won't have a facebook page. (That tells you something, right there.)


I only read Andy's gun blog page, but he also has a computer techno blog that is really quite good. (The one-third that I can understand, anyway)

Talked to my son on Skype/Facebook video chat last night.

He's looking good. Happy to be leaving for a six-month tour in Guam on Monday. ("Tour" my ass...more like a vacation)

Can you believe they're letting him move out of the barracks already? He gets to find a place of his own when he gets back in October.

Hell! When I was an Airman..., nevermind.


Thursday, March 29, 2012

Dad of the Year

My darling daughter bought a cool poster

I really liked it, so we pasted it on the wall in the kitchen

The really scary part is, Mrs B likes it too. I think it's there to stay.

Boss was in from Atlanta all day yesterday, and he'll be here until lunch time today.

The news is good.

On the other hand, at the end of the day yesterday, he matter-of-factly stated "I'll be in around 0700"

Great, I don't usually show up until 0800. No way I'm letting him get there before me, and he knows it.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

March 28th, 1979

Three Mile Island isn't really much of an island at all. It is not much more than an oversized sandbar in the Susquehanna river.

Before dawn on March 28th, back in 1979, Unit 2 had a valve failure that leaked contaminated cooling water.

GOOD: The automatic safeties built in to the system kicked on as they were supposed to. A steep rise in core temperature was detected, and the emergency cooling pumps kicked into action, saving the day.

BAD: The operators did not agree with what they were seeing in the control room, so they SHUT OFF the EMERGENCY cooling pumps. They also shut down the unit itself, but the process inside the reactor was already underway, and by breakfast, core temps were somewhere north of 4,000 degrees.

They spent all day trying vainly to pull their heads out of their asses. Meanwhile, hydrogen gas was being formed from core materials coming in contact with super-heated steam. There was at least one explosion that released radioactive material into the environment. (Overall, radioactive discharge from the famous accident was very low. The "Five-legged-goat" factor was almost nil.)

Finally, at about 8pm, (16 hours after the initial failure) some rocket scientist said, "Hey guys. Remember those EMERGENCY cooling pumps that we shut off? I've got an idea. Let's turn them back on."

and they did.

and the day was saved. (It was too little, too late. The unit was mostly slag by then, but main containment was never breached.)

That was over 30 years ago, and to this day every plant operator everywhere (whether nuclear, coal, gas, water...whatever)knows this famous saying:

"Guys. What's the name of the best operator we have here at the plant?"


"That's stay the hell out of the way and let him do his fucking job."


Tuesday, March 27, 2012


The trip down to Appomatox is still on for this Saturday.
(As long as nothing terrible happens at the plant and screws me over.)

Even Wirecutter is talking about it, but I doubt he'll make it for opening day. (Isn't that the day he's getting married?)

“The government might collapse and America descend into anarchy, but Marines will still have their 10 General Orders.”
From Castra Paetoria

I'll see your zombie apocalypse, and raise you a platoon of marines...

Stephen is back in the hospital again, this time it's a heart attack.

Send him some love.

Work humor. 

Probably dating myself a bit with this one...if you get it, look around, you're probably the oldest guy in the room.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Happy Monday! (Urgh)

Almost got around to doing my taxes over the weekend like I said I was going to.
What is this, like a week I've been talking about it?

No time for deep thought this morning. (Stop rolling your eyes like that)

I've got a D.V. complete with entourage coming to tour the plant this morning.
Time to make sure the dog and pony are cleaned and brushed.


Sunday, March 25, 2012

Sunday morning sleep-in #3

I need to change the title of my Sunday morning posts. Sleeping in just ain't happening.
With the wife gone for six weeks, the dog got onto my schedule completely.

Now, if I'm not up by 0400, the whiny fucker is sticking his cold, wet nose in my ear and reaching a massive paw up onto the bed and scratching at me until I get up.

I've been reading the OtherWhere Gazette lately.

Yeah, I'm a closet Sci-Fi freak. Don't tell anyone.
Why Sci-Fi?

"On the street, on the television, throughout history; I have seen the starving children.
The People give themselves an insane government with insane policies.
The People then starve.
Instead of demanding the removal of the insane government and policies, good hearts around the world chip in to subsidize the government and policies, entrenching them, helping to make starvation in that nation a permanent institution."
                                                                                                                        ~ Barry B. Longyear
                                                                                                                           Sea of Glass, 1987

I'm about 100 pages into On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and Peace, by Lt Col Grossman.
I'm looking for a good stopping place, so I can switch over and read a bit of The Art of Happiness, by the Dalai Lama.

I got the books from Christina, at Tin and Phoenix.
Who apparently has taken a break from her writing. Hope she comes back to it soon.

My brother-in-law needs to read the Grossman book, if he hasn't already.
I'll be passing them both along to someone else when I'm done, but I'll give him first dibs.

They didn't have my usual brand of bacon at the commissary yesterday. They're renovating the place and space is limited until they're done. So I had some of this other brand that was labelled "Thick cut".

"Thick cut" my ass...crap was full of water too, spitting hot grease everywhere, I had to go put pants on to finish cooking.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Saturday morning coffee #8

The Bayou Renaissance Man happened to make a passing reference in one of his posts to your truly.

Holy shitstorm Batman!

When a blogger of his note does something like that, it feels a little like I accidentaly wandered out of my neighborhood and onto the information superhighway for second...on my bicycle. I turned on my laptop that evening and, I swear, the lights in my house fucking dimmed and flickered from the massive power draw when I logged into Blogger.

By now, things have settled back down to where it's just my regular readers dropping by. (Both of you.)

Moooooog35 has coined a new term "Assholishnessicicity"
Yep, he's the one-and-only Rodney Lacroix.

Go "Friend" his ass on FaceBook, but only if you've got thick skin.
He also does that Twitter thing. So, if you're interested in having his random and slightly insane thoughts pop up on your phone day and night, you could do that too.

Don't say I didn't warn you.
Completely badASS rendition of our solar system that you can play around with.
When you zoom in on the Earth, it even shows the day/night terminus in the proper place for the present time.
Time sink warning!

Wirecutter is tying the knot.

Drop by and send your condolences to Miss Lisa.

Another war story.

Mid-nineties I was stationed in Okinawa. Most of the vehicles driven by GI's over there are beaters. Cars that have been "totaled" on the mainland (usually due to flood damage) are cleaned up and sold to round-eyes by local used car dealerships.

I had a sweet little Nissan Sunny Vanette, a total beach vehicle, that we drove for five of the eight years we were there. It was five years old when we bought it, and we drove the ever-loving shit out of that thing. Spent one summer driving up to Okuma every time I had a day off, and camping on the beach up there.

The van had a five-speed manual, with the shifter on the right side of the steering column. "on the tree" (Thankfully, one of the cars I learned driving in was a '65 Valiant with a three-on-the-tree) The only problem with the van was that the transmission linkage was straight out of a Rube Goldberg nightmare. I spent the whole five years re-tightening everything and hammering it back into shape. By the time we left the island and gave the van away to a friend, you could only get 3rd and 4th gear. Mind you, I was still driving it to work every day. If I got caught at the one and only stoplight between my house and the flightline, you could smell my clutch when I pulled up to the building.

So my wife and I are hanging out with some of our Jarhead friends up at Camp McTureous. Knowing that I had to work the next day, I threw a uniform in the back of the van, so we could sleep it off at their place, and I could go straight to work (I had to be in by 0700) Mrs. B and the kids would be driven home later. (We never let little things like work get in the way of partying with Marines back in those days.)

So me and my Jarhead buddy are up at 0600 getting coffee and such, and he hooks me up with a huge cup of Java to drink while I'm driving down to Kadena. I hop in the van and get underway, and before I even get out of McTureous, I hit one of those gaddamn speed bumps that the Marines don't fucking paint yellow (they like to catch you by surprise, it's a camouflage thing...) Of course, I hit the damn thing while I was trying to shift gears and hold my monster coffee cup at the same time. I ended up wearing 32 ounces of scalding fucking coffee in my crotch.

You can pretty much guess what I was thinking at that moment, but I'll share it with you anyway, just so there's no confusion.


I slammed on the brakes and hopped right out of that seat, fumbling with that damn button fly, trying to get my griddle-hot skivvies off of my nutsack immediately. I end up standing there in the street, holding the top of my drawers open and blowing on my junk, when this jarhead jogs serenely past and says "Your car." I look up and realize that I left the damn thing in second gear. She was trundling right on down the road, and had already gotten 40 or 50 yards ahead of me.

I took off running hell-for-leather, with one hand holding my pants up, cussing a stream. I never would have caught that fucker if the street hadn't curved. She bounced off the curb a couple times, took out someone's garbage cans, and finally stopped when she hit a light pole. No real damage, after a couple curb bounces, she was probably only going about 5 mph.

So there I was, putting garbage cans back upright and buckling my pants, when Mr. Jogging Jarhead finally catches up to me. As he passed by he said, "Awesome, Zoomie" to which I replied, "You were already running...fuck you very much for the help, Dickhead." He just looked back over his shoulder with a big fucking grin on his face...

Fucking Jarheads.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Refugee Scoundrel - with Clowns

Microsoft's "Crashless" Mustang...Hee Hee...not if Larry drives it.

(Thanks for the ammo, NavyOne.)

Larry also has an opinion on the Zimmerman case in Florida.
I gotta say, I agree with him.

Here in Virginia, we don't have a "Stand your ground" law, but our gun laws are, for the most part pretty reasonable.
(Very Reasonable could be achieved if we had a Castle Doctrine)

If I was a seventeen-year-old kid and some creeper was following me in his car, well, I would probably take off running.
If the creepy dude then got out of his car and started chasing me, well, I might decide to turn around and "stand my ground".

Funny how that works, isn't it?

CTone also sums things up very nicely in his post about carrying with children.

 "I will not get into an argument or pissing match with anyone when out with my family (or by myself; it's good policy). I don't need to prove that I'm a man, so I'm not going to risk getting into a fistfight where I can potentially be knocked out..."

This is the opinion I've heard expressed by all my friends who carry, whether they're with their kids or not.

VA gunnies are some of the most polite people I know. You would be hard pressed to pick a fight with one of them.
He got out of his damn car and started chasing this guy, who was running away.
I'm afraid Zimmerman has earned the dubious title: Assclown

Thursday, March 22, 2012

On 3-day weekends?

Trying to get enough done today so I can take tomorrow off and have a three-day break.
We'll see.

Day 3: Talked about doing the taxes with my old lady last night. We agreed I should work on it over the weekend.

STILL haven't been able to find a fourth guy to hire.
More interviews over the next week, wish me luck.

Over the past six weeks, I've been watching television (somewhat) in the evenings with my daughter. She likes all the cop shows:

Alaska State Troopers
Mall Cops (Yes. It's as bad as it sounds)
Wild Justice
...and then there's a whole list of "World's wildest whatevers". I call it "World's Biggest Collection of Drunk Dumbasses Doing Stupid Shit and Getting Tazed/Beaten/Run Over/etc. etc.."

Wife is home now.
Had a nice crock pot chicken for dinner, and relaxed in the living room watching that TV show with three young well-endowed ladies who are witches. The show is fucking awful, but the bewbies are nice.

All is well in my world.


Wednesday, March 21, 2012


I got nothing.

Stayed up late last night, because Mrs B came home from her parent's. Now I'm up early to get in and get a shift covered.
She'll be home for at least a few weeks, then we'll see how her dad's surgery goes...

Day 2 - I'm still talking about doing my taxes, haven't even downloaded the forms yet.

Mrs B reminded me about my promise to get my disability stuff done with the Air Force this year. Shit.

I started a couple years ago...went up to Ft Belvoir and waited around the hospital with a bunch of guys with missing limbs and eyes and shit.

I left.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Tax Time

"The Constitution was made to guard the people against the dangers of good intentions. There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters."

--Daniel Webster

Time for me to get to work on my f**king taxes....I promised myself I wouldn't wait until the very last second this year.
I've been talking about getting it done for a week now.

Aw hell, here's one more for the road.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Did you have a "Strong Weekend"?

I would like to extend a welcome to Momcat.

Kwazulu, South Africa. Wow! I think you've traveled further to get here than anyone else.
Sit down and put your feet up. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge, just don't finish off the bacon.

Don't worry about the dog. He's not a biter. (He's a humper)


Sunday, March 18, 2012

Sunday morning sleep-in #2

Sure didn't get to sleep in very much, but things are moving nice and slow at work. I don't need to show up at 0400. I can wander in there around 0600 or a little later and get done what I need to for a Sunday morning.
It's almost like a day off, but not.

I spent my day off at the NRA range, which is pretty much awesome. Best part, my BIL picked up the tab.

What's better than a morning at the range?

A FREE morning at the range.

So, all you gunnie pros out there. Why's my BIL consistently hitting low (and often a little left)?
I used to have one of those targets laying around that showed a different reason why your hits were off in a certain direction, but it's been filed away in a sooper-secret location so that it cannot be lost. (Along with those two boxes of .45 ammo I bought last month. I'm sure they'll turn up eventually.)
I told him I thought he was anticipating the recoil a bit. He's used to 9mm, and was shooting God's own caliber.

Andy brought his un-dorked Mini-14. A lot of fun to shoot.
Without the recoil compensator, like in my M-4gery, the .223 round feels more like a rifle round.

After all that recoil therapy, the rest of my day was mostly spent napping and catching up on chores.

But we did catch an awesome zombie movie, Survival of the Dead, the sixth of the series that started with Night of the Living Dead, the original zombie movie.
George Romero does it again.
This actually had some plot you could follow, without taking too much away from the high-quality gore we've come to expect from the Zen Master of zombie moviemaking.

Y'all enjoy your Sunday. I've got to get showered and out the door.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Happy St Patrick's Day

I'd love to post something meaningful and riveting...

...but I'm busy driving to the range this morning


Friday, March 16, 2012


You thought I was going to miss a day, didn't you?

Well, almost.

Real life happened. I ended up copping a few Z's on a cot in the control room last night. Life's a bitch.

Saved the day, so once again I'm a fucking hero. You guys should take notes...


Now I'm totally "dick in the dirt" and I've got just enough energy left to get some food in me, then off to bed.

Getting up early for the RANGE TOMORROW.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

For my "Open carry" friends

Really Dude?

I mean...really?

I'm the only one professional enough...

Guy must really know how to handle himself.
Where I come from, walk around with a light saber hanging off your belt, and someone's going to be giving you a beating.
Just on principle.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Let there be light

I was preparing dinner the other night. Chicken and asparagus with mashed potatoes.

I do a great asparagus stir-fry:
A pile of fresh asparagus chopped in 1 1/2" pieces
A pile of sliced mushrooms. (Plain white, or baby portabellas)
A smaller pile of sliced red onion

Throw it in a wok with a half-and-half mix of olive oil and butter (regular oil works too)
Stir to coat over medium heat. Cover and simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Remove the cover and turn the heat up to med-high. Add salt and pepper to taste, cook for another 5-7 minutes, stirring frequently.
Nom down on that shit like there's no tomorrow.

So back to my story. I get everything ready. I'm peeling and chopping potatoes, chopping the asparagus up, along with the red onion and mushroom.

While I'm moving around near the stovetop, getting everything set up. I notice that there's some heat coming from the stovetop. What the hell? I check the burners to make sure I haven't bumped something and turned it on.
Nope, all the burners are still turned off. It takes me a few seconds, but I finally peer up under the range hood, thinking maybe the fan motor is burning up. (When I start cooking for the evening, I turn on the fan and light on the range hood before I do anything else.)

That's when I notice that the light bulb under the range hood is one of those old "incandescent" bulbs. A 75-watter. That baby was warming up the whole area. I could feel it from 2-3 feet away. That got me to thinking.

I mean, I'm feeling a noticeable increase in heat around the stove, and I haven't turned on one burner yet! This is the "waste heat" given off by the incandescent bulb, telling you that it is "wasting" energy by not turning it into light. That's what a bulb is designed to do, right? Any use of energy not directly converted into light is considered waste.

Last year, my darling wife, in a fit of rampant energy conservation, replaced every single bulb in the entire house with the new fluorescent 'energy saving' bulbs. (Don't even ask about the cost. Trust me, it was a helluva lot more than I felt comfortable paying) Now normally, we keep the house pretty arctic in the winter. Not enough to be impossible to stand, but cold enough so you definitely don't want to walk around in a t-shirt in here. We do the same thing in the summer. Not cooling the house lower than about 74 degrees. You've got to save money wherever you can.
But wouldn't incandescent bulbs be beneficial in the wintertime? I'm thinking I should keep a stock of both style bulbs around, and swap them out every spring and fall. The "waste heat' given off by incandescent bulbs has got to be a serious factor in heating your home in the wintertime. Has any geekazoid done a study on this? Does the savings in heating costs offset the increased cost of electricity running the incandescent bulbs?

I put my Google-fu to work, but only found one study done by the Finns that was directly relevant, and I could see the whole report for only a small fee.... (Did I mention I'm a cheap bastard?)

Tuesday, March 13, 2012


Welcome to Coffeypot, a fellow veteran and cranky old bastid.

Come on by anytime, friend.

Old NFO has a fantastic post up about how to be a Blues singer.

Once you've gone by his place and taken some notes. Stop back by here and find out what your Blues "Name" should be.

Mine is Old Harp McGee, but I'm thinking about changing my real name so it can be Big Sugar Malone, it just sounds better.

Twofer Tuesday...


Monday, March 12, 2012

Funny crap

All my clocks moved ahead an hour yesterday.

Apparently, my internal clock was only able to move ahead about 15 minutes.

Now I'm running late, and it's Monday. How's your morning going?

Sunday, March 11, 2012

March 11, 1942

General MacArthur departed the Philippines for Australia, just before the fall of Bataan and Corregidor.

This was, of course, a brilliant strategic maneuver.

He went to Australia to take command of the forces being assembled there to defend the country from a Japanese invasion.

Heh. Try telling that to a China Marine.

Mine eyes have seen MacArthur
With a Bible on his knee
He is pounding out communiqu├ęs
For guys like you and me.
And while possibly a rumor now,
Some day ‘twill be a fact
That the Lord will hear a deep voice say
“Move over, God, its Mac.”

—Marine parody on Corregidor

I got another day off today and I'm not sure what to do with it.
I've got some more yard work to take care of, I guess. I need bar oil for my saw...

Almost forgot to tell you guys about the latest Zombie movie.
Last week we watched Undead, by the Spierig brothers, Michael and Peter.

So gaddamn funny it had to be on purpose. The movie has generated a new catch-phrase in our household...
"I'm gonna zombie fish-punch you"

Embedding was disabled, but you should check out one of the best scenes in the movie here

 Time for me to get some chores knocked out....

Saturday, March 10, 2012


More funny garbage, because I'm working on Saturday, and that sucks.

First, more advertising fail from Facebook:
Wanna guess which branch of the Armed Forces their "Bad Man" belongs to?
Not as good as Breda's chicken purse though.

I really need some new paper clips at work...

Foodie Fail:

The Family Foto Fail:
Look closely, it might take you a sec...yep, there it is... 

Friday, March 9, 2012

Saturday morning coffee #7 (on Friday)

Man, my calendar is getting screwed. With all the extra days I'm working, the odd days I end up taking off and the traveling thrown in for good measure, it's getting hard to tell one day from another. Looking back over the week of blahgging, I realized that my Monday morning post was actually Tuesday? WTF? So I decided to go with the trend and do my Saturday morning coffee on Friday. (Hey, just roll with it...)
I comped myself a day off today because I'll be working over the weekend, and I've got to get some work done on the yard and the wood pile. I woke up this morning at my usual time (0330-0400) took the dog out for his walk and fed him breakfast, then sat down on the couch and zonked out for another four hours...didn't even see it coming. I had to dump the old pot of coffee I made when I woke up and start another one.

I've been remiss in keeping up with everyone else as well. My time to scan blogs and comment has taken a hit lately. I'll spend some time tonight getting around and annoying all my blog neighbors. In the meantime, here's a couple blogs I've been following when I can. Go check them out.

Rob in his Bunker

The Former Action Guy


Welcome to the "List of Awesomeness" fellas. Please keep your seat-backs and tray-tables in the upright position. In the event of an emergency, your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device.

So, on "The Video" post yesterday, skidmark noted that some of those veterans were HAWT. (Skidmark is kinda old-fashioned, so I'm going to go ahead on the assumption he was talking about the females, but hey, everyone's got their own "lifestyle choices" right? No skin off my nose...)
Well skidmark, old buddy, you ain't seen nothin' yet...

I won a book giveaway on this jarhead's blog the other day, and sent my home address along so they could be mailed to me.
Then I got to thinking about that shit, and decided to go snooping and find out who I'm giving my address out to.
You know...stalkers, trolls, DHS, etc...
Which one is the Jarhead??
Do you really care, anyway??

Skidmark, she's not just your run-of-the-mill Hottie, either. Go fucking read her blog. It will blow your mind.

Christina, you've got my home address.
Just do me one favor. If you decide to come around stalking me, just give me a heads-up so I can schedule some time off work. Mm'kay?

As if this post wasn't inappropriate enough...

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

Thursday, March 8, 2012

The video

This has been making the rounds on most milblogs. I snagged this from The Constitutional Insurgent over at Libertas & Latte.

I laughed...and then, well...I stopped.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Road trip!

At the end of March, the Museum of the Confederacy will be opening it's new branch, in Appomattox.

They will be displaying Lee's uniform, sword and parole from his surrender, along with many other historical items lots of cool shit in their new 5000 square foot building.

The article in Garden & Gun says they are also looking at opening a branch in Fredericksburg eventually. There's already a small civil war museum out on White Oak road somewhere. I need to swing by and check it out.

Any Virginia bloggers want to join me for opening day? along with maybe a lunch? (I owe The Miller, and I'm looking for an opportunity to pay up)

Their website currently says it's going to be Saturday, the 31st of March.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012


I've linked to this lady's blog once before.

Now she's at it again.

Man, I like her style.

Stop by and offer some support.
The conference was great and I'm glad I went.

but the truth is, it just means I have five days of work to do in four days now.
I feel like I missed something in that Star Wars movie series...I'm going to have to go back and watch it again...

Monday, March 5, 2012

Sorabol Restuarant

(There's a fast-food style Korean restuarant chain out out the left coast called Sorabol. They do mall food courts and such.
This was definitely not one of those places.)
A small family-run place on Warwick Blvd, out on the west end of Newport News; the Sorabol Restuarant tucked away near the asian grocery store was well worth the trip down here

An old buddy and his girfriend took me out there last night for dinner. We had samgyeopsal and a soup that I never heard of before, something with 'smeat' and tofu boiled in a spicy broth designed in the ancient Korean Schilla dynasty for removing the lining of the stomach and intestines.
Fantastic food, try it out if you're ever down this way.
Spent Sunday milling around the hotel, doing 'conference' stuff. I gave a brief presentation in the late afternoon with some Q&A afterwards, but most of the day consisted of the usual conference activities: sipping coffee, looking important, making small talk, waiting for the complementary bar to open.

There was a tattoo exhibition at the convention center right next door over the weekend. That was awesome.
So we had a bunch of 'business casual' types milling around the hotel lobby Sunday afternoon, along with an equal number of heavily tattooed folks with all of the designed-for-shock-value piercings and hairstyles.
It was an opportunity for some great pictures, but I was too busy looking important. Sorry.
All of my insta-blahgging over the past week has kept me from getting any high quality inappropriate humor put up.
So, here you go...

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Jonny Lang

An amazing cover. Debatable whether it is better than the original or not. Inputs?
Keep an eye on this kid. He is the future of Blues in this country.

Wondering where you've seen his face?

You saw him in Blues Brothers 2000, doing a number with Wilson Pickett and Eddie Floyd.
(Ignore the German dubbed dialogue in the beginning. It goes away quickly)

Saturday, March 3, 2012

March 3rd, 1931

No "Saturday morning coffee" this morning. That's not to say I didn't have coffee, coffee is the elixir of life.
It's a working weekend, and I need to get on the road.
On September 14, 1814, Francis Scott Key got screwed royally by the British troops that were attacking our country. (go figure)

He went to get a buddy of his released from captivity, and ended up getting his ass "detained indefinitely" (why does that sound so familiar?)

Anyway, he ended up stuck on a British ship while they pounded the ever-loving shit out of Fort McHenry, near Baltinore Maryland.

So he's stuck on this ship and he's, like, "Yo! This totally sucks that I'm stuck here with these British rump-rangers while they throw a bunch of exploding shit at my homies!"

It wasn't all bad though, because he noticed after a while that this sorry bunch of deranged sodomites weren't bringin' the pain like they thought they were, and he said to himself "My homies REPRESENT, Beyotches! They flyin' their COLORS!"

He got so excited about that shit that he decided to write a poem. (Okay. They didn't have the shit back then that we have nowadays. If that shit happened now, my boy would have filmed it with his iPhone and had it on YouTube before the sun came up.....poetry was how bad motherfuckers rolled back in those days.)

So he writes this badass poem, but it wasn't until years later that someone actually put the words to music. They used the tune from a popular Enlish song called "To Anacreon in Heaven" (What the fuck is up with that? Hopefully we chose that song just to insult the shit out of the Brits.)

Through the rest of that century, and into the next one, all of the U.S. Armed Forces and most of the citizenry considered that song to be our national anthem. Finally, in 1916, Woodrow Wilson signed an executive order to that effect.

But it wasn't until this date, in 1931, that our Congress passed an act designating this song as our Official National Anthem, and had it signed into law by president Herbert Hoover.

(Imagine that...our government taking over 100 years to catch up to what the rest of the country already knows...this is me being surprised.)

The military marching bands with bass drums and cymbals are all well and good, but I happen to think our anthem sounds best sung by regular folks; with love in their hearts and strength in their souls.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Shelby Lee Adams

I got a Garden & Gun magazine from Nancy the other day and I'm completely hooked. Great articles.

One of the first ones that hooked me was a piece written by Dean King, about the photographer Shelby Adams, and his work in Appalachia.

I got the video from an article by Mark Orr on Collectors World Online.

Check out Shelby Adam's work.

It will haunt you.