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.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Soul Week -Thursday

I saw a group of Filipino girls do this number in a bar in Manila. Talk about "Blast from the Past", it was more like "Rift in the Space-Time Continuum"
In the dim and colored lights of the bar, the grizzled old faces of the ex-pats grew softer, their hair drakened in hue and you could almost see the stripes on their arms and brass on their collars.

Of course, I was pretty damn drunk at the time. That probably had a lot to do with it.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Soul Week - Wednesday

One of the guys rescued a gosling that had gotten into the conveyors to the limestone crusher.
Shut the whole damn operation down for hours so he could lock everything out and climb in there to get that little fucker.

He introduced it into another family of Canadians with a bunch about the same age. Good thing those geese can't count.

Those boys'll amaze you sometimes.

Texting Your Gunnie Friends

See, just the other day, I was having a terrible time with Blogger. Just as I posted my morning drivel, I somehow got locked out.
I could not view the controls page, nor could I even view my own blog.

Panic ensued.

Luckily, I recalled that Andy and I had exchanged phone numbers at the last blogshoot. Being a generally well-organized and responsible individual, I promptly loaded Andy's number into my phone along with a rating of his sense of humor. (Andy - 2)

So I grabbed my cell and sent a quick text to him at about 0630.

MSgt B - "Is it just me, or did Blogger just take a giant crap?"

Andy - "It's just you......Who is this?"

(That's what I like about my Gunnie friends. FIRST he answered the question, THEN he thought to ask who the hell he was talking to.)

Turns out I got his sense of humor rating's now (Andy - 7).


Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Soul Week - Tuesday

I've got four days in which to get five days worth of work done, and it's the end of the month.

So I just declared this "Soul Week" at the My Muse Shanked Me blog.

(That way I can take the easy route and post YouBoob videos all week while I get my work done.)

P.S. - If I get the time, I'll dress up those pictures of my long guns and get them posted

Monday, May 28, 2012

Memorial Day


Today I will celebrate by finally getting those long guns out of the safe and getting them cleaned up and function checked.

Work was certainly exciting yesterday. Managed to pull through OK, I'm still a hero.

Driving home yesterday afternoon was almost as exciting as work itself. It being a holiday weekend, our boys in blue were out there working extra hard to keep the roads safe.

There I was...

I'm tooling along the state highway, traveling at a reasonable speed, when I swing around an uphill curve and into the loving arms of a Deputy Sherriff.

Now, I'd already passed a couple state troopers along my way with nary a sneeze, but those county boys are a bit different. You don't usually see them along the state highway. They tend to stick to the smaller state and county roads, hanging around in their own 'neighborhoods' so to speak. (I'm pretty sure Virginia used to require County Sherriff's Deputies to live in the county they patrolled. I'm not sure if they do that anymore.)

There's a rule I forgot to mention during my previous rants on income-generation on our roads and highways.
Rule #2 - You wave at the county boys.

So as I blew past Deppity Dawg, I peered through the windshield of his cruiser to make sure I made eye contact, and I waved. He returned the greeting with a wave and a nod of his own.

There was a guy in another pickup abot 50-60 yards back who'd been pacing me for the last few miles. I looked into the rearview mirror to see if the guy would panic when he saw the Deputy. Nope, not a care in the world for that guy,

Sure enough, Deppity Dawg put down his Cheetos and Coke and came swinging out of his comfortable parking spot. All thoughts of a peaceful afternoon nap brushed aside in the excitement.

I eased off the accelerator and let Mr.-I'm-too-self-absorbed-to-even-acknowledge-to-the-deputy-that-I-was-speeding swing out into the left lane to pass me. Once he got next to me, he finally saw the deputy behind us, and slowed down to match my speed. (Maybe he was trying to blend in with the crowd or something)

As the deputy rolled up on us, I must admit, I wondered who he was going to pull over and ticket. Would he yank the first guy he saw (me) or the guy who was obviously paying no attention to the world around him?

Deppity Dawg sat on this guy's bumper in the left lane, so I eased back next to him and glanced over with a raised eyebrow. He motioned at me to speed up and get the hell out of the way, so I accelerated back up to 'a reasonable speed' and watched in the mirror as he hit his lights and gave a short whoop on the siren, just to make sure Mr-Too-good-to-wave-at-anyone knew it was his turn in the barrel.

for PawPaw


"We make war that we may live in peace." - Aristotle

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #16

My muse didn't just shank me, she ran off to Paramus with a guy in telemarketing.

I overlooked the fact that I had just opened a fresh can of coffee, and made my brew too bitter this morning.
Salt helps.

I've mentioned Colin Nissan once before. Well, he's at it again, giving voice to the bain of bloggers everywhere,
Word Verification.

Bacon and Diet Pepsi.

It's like burgers and fries...

Rum and Coke...

Peanut butter and jelly...

Advanaced Reader Copy (eARC) of Monster Hunter Legion is available for purchase.

and RobbAllen brings in the win

Evil looms!

Frank W James (The Gun Writer) is signing off.

Altitude and Airspeed.

Inappropriate humor in 3...2...

Friday, May 25, 2012

The Brown Truck of Happiness (BTOH)...Redux


Yes Yes Yes!!

Mr BTOH runs late occasionally. When he does, he sneeks his delivery into the carport and leaves it by the side door, without ringing the bell.

So this morning, I stumbled across my little bit of Christmas while heading out to air the dog at 0430.

I will not open it this morning. Knowing it is here is enough for now. I can ride high all day on the anticipation.

Tomorrow I will pull out the long guns for their annual, and take some pictures of my new toy.

What are yall's plans for Memorial Day?

I'll be working Sunday. So you can say I kinda sorta have the holiday, but not really.

Remember kids, we are honoring those who have given their lives (or a large portion thereof) to keep us free.

If you maim or kill yourself celebrating Memorial Day, it's not the same thing. Be safe.

Pro Tip: If you're out of charcoal lighter fluid, run to the store and buy some. Coleman lantern fuel is NOT an option.


Thursday, May 24, 2012

Turn the Volume Up

It's "One-hit Wonder" day.

Back in 1976 I was attending grade school, wearing my bell-bottom jeans with vertical red, white and blue stripes.
(Yes, I have a picture.)
(No, you will never see it.)

"Play That Funky Music, White Boy" hit #1 on both the R&B and pop charts, and garnered the band a platinum record, an AMA award and a couple Grammy nominations.

The band did three more albums after that without ever getting a single into the top 20 on the charts.

In the 90's, Rob Parissi (lead guitar/vocals) filed a copyright infringement lawsuit against Vanilla Ice (along with everyone else) and won $500,000.

Rob Parissi is now chillin' down in Florida and doing smooth jazz.

For this year's "One-hit Wonder" we have Facebook, who's less-than-spectacular fizzle upon it's IPO has coined a new term in the hallowed halls of Wall Street financial firms...

"You got Zuckered"

hee hee

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Brown Truck of Happiness

Has still not arrived yet...the suspense is killing me.

It's about time to do the annual breakdown and cleaning of all the long guns that I never shoot anymore. I want to give the new cleaning kit a good workout.

Jeez. Is it Hump Day already? Where did all the time go?

Ever since I saw Linoge's epic chops, something's been nagging at me.

I finally pinned it down last night.

He's gotta be Ray Dorset's nephew or something.

(If Walls of the City isn't already on your reading list, it should be.)

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


When he was asked the meaning of life, the Buddha answered by saying "Life is pain."

Emo music aside, life can be very painful.

Pain is our body's way of telling us to move away from danger and damage, whether physical or emotional.

In our youth, we sought that pain out. The pain that told us we were growing faster and stronger. The same pain that told us we had done a hard day's work and earned our keep.

In our age, the pain becomes that guest that just won't leave. It has made itself a home deep in our muscles and bones. It tells us nothing more than "Hey."

"You're awake."

“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”
~ Jim Morrison, The Doors

Monday, May 21, 2012

Care packages

Went out yesterday and bought the last few items for A1C B's care package.

Just a few things to help him through the hardship of a six month Guam.

You know...beach towel, sunglasses, flip flops, aloe lotion...that sort of thing.  It's a hard life.

That reminds me, I need to get a package out to Pax, in repayment for those Tim Tam's

I've got nothing this morning, just a hunormous pile of stuff at work that didn't get done over the last two weeks.

...oh, and conference those conference calls.


Sunday, May 20, 2012

Sunday Morning Sleep-in #5

Skidmark sent me a link to a blog.

Krissy's Absurdity

Pissed and Firehand beat me to the punch and got links up yesterday.

This one goes straight to the List of Awesomeness.

I wore out that $50 Amazon gift card (plus some) and bought

A new gun cleaning kit along with some polymer picks and extra bronze brushes, etc..

I also picked up a copy of Michael Z WIlliamson's Contact with Chaos. (a Freehold novel)

What is it about a freshly mown lawn that makes Trevor get the urge to poo on it immediately?

All done pooing, now it's time for a roll. Feels so good!

I haven't been able to bring the spool table in the house since I got married.


"Our household is ripe for Kindle invasion because we’re aggressively dangerously unforgivably literate. All through the house, words are disassembled, deconstructed, folded, spindled, mutilated, adored, trashed, preserved, deleted, savored, swigged, passed around like a joint in Phish concert, consumed like beer at a kegger, and inhaled in a way Bill Clinton denied. Scrabble is a contact sport. We alliterate even when the drapes aren’t drawn. Similes and metaphors are bounced off walls like free radicals in Ron Paul’s brain. Words are mixed in good ways and bad and (in my case) foreign ones are mispronounced with wild abandon. All words are welcome in our house. (I’m the only one who swears but I don’t fucking care if you disapprove.) Further, as you’ve no doubt noticed from reading my blog, I’m willing to walk around in public without using spell check."
From The Adaptive Curmudgeon - go RTWT

(For the record, I don't have an e-reader anywhere in the house. I'm still holding out, but it gets tougher every day)


Saturday, May 19, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #15

Home again.

I don't ever remember my grass growing so quickly before. Must be Global Warming or something.
So I've got plenty to look forward to once the sun comes up.

Go check out Aim High Erin

Recently named Best Air Force Blog for 2012 at the annual Mil Bloggers conference.

Was I ever that young?
(The answer is no. I dropped from my mother's womb wearing steel-toed boots and greasy coveralls, shouting "Aim High!" around the 7/16 combo wrench clenched in my teeth.)

I have a $50 gift card for Amazon, and I'm drawing a complete blank.
Usually I have no problem listing a dozen items I'd snatch up in a heartbeat if I had $50 laying around.
Does Amazon sell gun stuff?


May 19, 1964. The U.S. Air Force begins Operation Yankee Team in Laos.

"Low altitude reconnaissance flights" with F-101 Voodoo jets.

(Hint - Guys, if you're going to call them reconnaissance flights, use an aircraft where the pilot can actually see the ground from the cockpit.)
I learned everything I know about subtlety and tact in the Air Force.

That's all folks. Enjoy your weekend.

Friday, May 18, 2012

More from The Brickyard

Because I'm getting out the door early this morning.

It's time to go home.

The Brickyard track from the infield (That's Mrs B)

Speed is all you need

Original Bricks

Hopefully Saturday Morning Coffee will be on my living room couch.

More thunderstorms again yesterday. Bike Week is only for tough guys this year.

Speaking of tough guys, I saw the original Bad Motherfucker riding his motorcycle.

I stopped at a red light, and he pulled up to the same light going the opposite direction on his Harley. He had the classic biker look down pat, bald with a salt-and-pepper beard flowing back over his shoulder. (No helmet laws in South Carolina)

The thunderstorm was going full blast, and it wasn't just rain, there was HAIL. Hail the size of dimes and pennies was pelting down. It sounded like machine gun fire hitting my cheesy rental car.
While he was stopped at the light, his old lady leaned forward and shouted something in his ear. She was either screaming at him to get off the road and into some shelter, or she was shouting encouragement to him. (I hope it was the latter)

The light turned green and they roared away over my shoulder into one of the worst storms I've driven though in the last ten years. (Let me say that one more time...HAIL the size of dimes and pennies...and he wasn't wearing a helmet.)

Seeing that Bad Motherfucker riding a Harley in a hail storm made me think I need to up my game a little bit.

What can I do to make sure my Bad Motherfucker card stays current? Any suggestions?


Thursday, May 17, 2012

Bleg - Parade in Richmond

Sorry peeps. No biker chick bewbies.

Thunderstorms on and off yesterday from lunchtime into the evening. Still raining this morning.

Discretion is the better part of valor.

I got a take-out pizza and holed up in the hotel room to catch up on my emails. (masturbate)

I got tired and went to bed early (ran out of Kleenex)

(Pro-tip:  Puffs Plus* has lotion added)

There's a Welcome Home parade for our troops this Saturday (Armed Forces Day), in Richmond, VA.

Go Here and click on Host Cities and select Richmond for details.
I hoe some of you guys can make it.
Plan A was for me to run down there and get some pics and blog about it, but I'm afraid by the time I get home tomorrow I'll probably be done in for the weekend.


* - Puffs (TM) paid me absolutely nothing for the endorsement of their awesome product.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Bike Week - Harleys are cool

So here I am in Myrtle Beach for a couple days of training, and wouldn't you know it, it's fucking Bike Week.

The roads are absofuckinglutely packed with Harley Davidson motorcycles.

Reminds me that while I was in Indy last week, we stopped in at the Indy 500 Hall of Fame Museum.
Did you know they did motorcycle racing at the Brickyard?

They haven't done it for the longest time, but they just brought it back a few years ago. Check it out.

So anyway, tomorrow or the next day, I'll try to get downtown and get some pictures of biker chick bewbies while I'm here.
Don't know how well that's going to work out. I spent this evening driving out to dinner and back in my rental, a Honda Civic Hybrid Nutless POS.

I was surrounded by bikers the whole time. Every time they looked at the car, they got this look on their faces like they wanted to reach out and kick a fucking dent in the door.
(That might have been my imagination)

MSgt B's Traveler's Advisory:

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

May 15, 2003

May 15, 2003 - June Carter Cash (of Maces Spring, Virginia) passed away from complications from heart surgery.

As is so often the case with a couple who have been married for many years and loved so deeply, Johnny followed her into the hereafter just a short time later, on September 12th.

They changed country music forever.

On the road this morning, headed for Myrtle Beach. (Work, not vacation...srsly...stop snickering.)

For Andy

Monday, May 14, 2012

Where I try to muse over pints

For David:

Inspired by one of my favorite bloggers, I thought I would try to muse over some pints of real beer while I was in Indy last week.

We stopped at The Triton brewery on old Fort Benjamin Harrison.

Clockwise, I started with the Fieldhouse Wheat, MSgt J was having the Railsplitter IPA, Mrs B loved the Four Barrel Brown and Mrs J had the Magnificent Amber.

They were awesome beers. For the second round, everyone stayed the same except MSgt J, who switched over to the B-Java Brown. A dark ale brewed with ten pounds of Espresso beans.

You heard me right...Coffee. Flavored. Beer.

We were using the delicious brews to wash down fries, and not just any fries.

We started with Chef Dan's regular seasoned fries (awesome Cajun) and then followed up with a batch of the best sweet potato fries I've ever had (seasoned with brown sugar, cinnamon and something else I just couldn't put my finger on)

We talked the waitress into selling us two of the little round beer-tasting glasses you can see on the table there. She also threw in some stickers and some coasters because I'm so damn good looking.

My 'Happy' Face

I was musing just fine until I got halfway through that second beer. They sure do make them strong out there in Indy.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Going to the Dogs

Now that we've left town, I can talk bad about MSgt J's dogs.

He's got a couple of those bulldogs that fall into the "So damn butt-ugly they're cute" category.

The brown one is Harley. She's something like 150 dog-years old. Here's a couple action shots...

I had to check that dog at least once a day to make sure she was still breathing. Oldest damn dog I've ever seen...

The younger one was a little more active, but I swear he was ten times uglier. He didn't like cameras very much (It's an Indiana thing) so I had to distract him to get a picture.

My German Shepherd has warts on his ass prettier than that dog.

Little fucker would play fetch with everyone else, but if I grabbed his toy, he'd fight me like an ugly little piranha...

Time to go find my grindstone and get my nose on it.

Oh Shit! It's Mother's Day, isn't it?
I better come home from the plant with some damn flowers or something.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Saturday Morning Coffee #14

I'm doing some long overdue blog-maintenance around here. It's amazing how dusty the corners can get if you neglect things.
I've gotten rid of some links on The List of Awesomeness for bloggers that have dropped out of existence completely or simply stopped posting ages ago.
I'm also digging through my regular reads and getting some onto the list that I should have had on there already.

Linoge at Walls of the City - Most of my readers know this guy already

Robert at Robert's Gun Shop - Solid guy who likes guns

Mike W. at Doin' the Time Warp - Nancy's buddy

Ima Wurdibitsch at The Wordy Bitch - Who should blog more often

Breda's back to blogging - hoodathunkit?

*sigh* My vacation is drawing to a close. Got back home Thursday night and spent yesterday doing yard work. 
It's always nice to come home...but when you get here, doing laundry still sucks.

I've got a couple more tales to tell from my trip out to Indy. I'll get them posted this week.

I go back to work for a day or two and then head down to Myrtle Beach for a work-related training thingy. heard me right, Myrtle Beach. I don't think my boss looked too closely at where the class was being held before he authorized me to go.

If you're looking for me Wednesday, I'll be the guy out by the pool with a farmer's tan and an umbrella drink in each hand. life sounds like a cheesy country song.


Friday, May 11, 2012

May 11, 1918

May 11th, 1918, a son was born to Melville and Lucille in Queens, New York.

Melville was concerned that the boy was a little on the stupid side, but he finally started talking by the time he was about three years old, and he grew up to do just fine in high school and college.
He was very handy with math, but never got the english and history stuff down very well.

As the boy finished college, the United States was rolling full steam into WWII, so he got himself a job with the government.

Of course, being a government job, it just wasn't very challenging, so in his spare time he taught himself to be a safecracker. By the time he left that job, he was able to open any safe or lock in his workplace. (I'm sure he made the security guys very happy.)

After WWII ended, he took a job teaching, but spent many hours of his free time at his new favorite hobby....hanging out in strip clubs.

He also developed quite a talent as an artist, and his sketches can pull quite a sum nowadays.

This amazing artist was Dr Richard P. Feynman.

The government job he held during WWII was in Los Alamos, New Mexico, working with other great minds to develop the world's first atomic bomb.

I never knew anything about the guy until he was asked to work on the team investigating the cause of the space shuttle Challenger disaster in 1986.
He went on television and did a little experiment for everyone involving an o-ring and some ice-water.

And I didn't even mention the bongo drums.

“No government has the right to decide on the truth of scientific principles, nor to prescribe in any way the character of the questions investigated. Neither may a government determine the aesthetic value of artistic creations, nor limit the forms of literacy or artistic expression. Nor should it pronounce on the validity of economic, historic, religious, or philosophical doctrines. Instead it has a duty to its citizens to maintain the freedom, to let those citizens contribute to the further adventure and the development of the human race.”
~ Dr. Richard P Feynman

Thursday, May 10, 2012

True Believers and Politicians

You guys know I don't like to talk politics. There isn't enough medication in the world to save me if I started blogging about that stuff on a regular basis.

I've been listening to all of my blog buddies picking up the chant "We're not going to vote our way out of this." for a while now and, (against my better judgement) I felt the need to conduct a lesson on MSgt B's Treatise on Modern Politics.

There are two types of political animal out there, True Believers and Politicians.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with Barack Obama as a person. I'm sure if I met him personally, I wouldn't like him very much at all, but that's just me.

The biggest problem I have with The Big O as Preezy of the United Sheezy is that the man is a True Believer.
He truly believes that he knows better than anyone else (especially the citizenry of the United States) what is best for this country.
(The question is open for debate on whether or not Barry is a True Believer or simply the tool of many True Believers who worked to place him in his current position. Sort of a "useful idiot". There's plenty of anecdotal evidence either way. What do you think? Let me know in comments. I don't want to get sidetracked from my point right now.)

There's no arguing with a True Believer.
Nothing you can say or do will convince them that they could possibly be wrong in any way about any of their ideas.
Save your breath.

Take Ron Paul for example......take him far away. (Ha Ha  Couldn't resist that one...where was I? Oh yeah...)

Take Ron Paul for example...another True Believer. I even like some of the crazy shit that he spouts off on a regular basis.
But there's no way I would want to see that man sitting in the Oval Office.
Once he was in the big chair, he would do exactly what he believes is best for this country, regardless of what history, law or common sense would indicate might be a bad decision.

The mind of a True Believer is unmalleable.
Mittens is a Politician.

He is exactly the kind of guy we need in the Oval Office as soon as possible, because a Politician will always do what they consider to be politically expedient.

Every. Single. Time.

If we can get Mittens into the Presidency this November, we can finally have the chance to run this country the way it is supposed to be run.
Remember that bit Old Abe said about "...of the people, by the people, and for the people..."?
The "by the people" is the most important bit.
See, we're supposed to be telling the politicians how we want things done. Not only that, but we're also supposed to be making it perfectly clear that running things the way your constituents want them run is the most politically expedient thing to do. (i.e. - Screw this up, and you're out of a job.)

We can vote our way out of this, but voting is just the first step.

Government "by the people" means that you and I and every other swinging dick out there need to put some of our time into the work of governing this country.
That means getting out there (figuratively speaking, you can do this from your desktop computer) and letting your politicians know exactly what the hell you want, and how important it is they do what they're told.

So stop with all that crap about "protest votes", "write-ins" and staying home on election day.
I spent over twenty years supporting and defending everyone's right to do what the fuck that piece of parchment says you should be doing.
Get off your ass and get to work running this country.

The only way we're going to have a shot at running things the way our founding fathers said they should be run is to get a Politician into the office.

Let's start with the first step, mmmkay?

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Hangin' with the Old Guy - More Pics

I just couldn't fit all the gunnie goodness into one post.

The Nag, The M&P and The Mak.

The Sig

As the evening wore on and the Jack Daniel's clouded my judgement, I finally approached the Old Guy with a request.

MSgt B - "Sir? May I take a picture with you for my blog?"

Old Guy - "For a what?"

MSgt B - "My blog...I write stories and such, and post them on the internet for people to read."

Old Guy - "And you want to put my picture on the internet?"

MSgt B - "Yes Sir."  (I could tell by the look on his face that this was not going to go well.)

Old Guy - "Boy...*sigh*...I wouldn't recommend that. You might never be seen again."

That's strange. It must be an Indiana thing. Seems earlier that same day I'd heard almost the exact same thing from another Hoosier.


New Man-card!

From The Mayor, via MissRed

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Finally, It's About Guns

The range trip with MSgt J went really well.

He's not really a gun guy, but he won a gaddamn Taurus Judge in a raffle, and he's had the damn thing loaded in his nightstand for a while now.

MSgt J - "Yeah. I should probably try shooting it sometime."

MSgt B - "...o.0...  You've never fired the damn thing?"

MSgt J - "Nope."

MSgt B - "So you don't even know if it works?"

MSgt J - "Well, it probably works. It's brand new."

MSgt B - " ... "

MSgt J - "Fuck you....If it doesn't work, I'll club a motherfucker with it." "I'm not the guy who lets his old lady beat him at pinochle."

Luckily, I also had my Snubby from Hell, my Sig Pro 2009 and a .38 cal Derringer with me for the road trip. We put 50 rounds or so through everything. Too bad the range we went to was not keen on us taking a bunch of pictures.
Win some, lose some.

So, since I can't share pictures from the range, I'll tell you about our visit to MSgt J's in-laws.

Do you remember the old guy* in Tennessee from the movie Shooter? The one who said "Still got the shovel!"?

I swear I found that motherfucker. Turns out my buddy MSgt J married his daughter.

We spent Sunday evening sitting in his den talking about guns and shooting. The clutter was magnificent. As conversation lagged, I would reach over to a random shelf and pull down another unique piece of gunnie detritus, ask a question about it, and get the old man rolling for another 30 minutes. I was in heaven.

I learned more about shooting that evening than I've managed to pick up in the last five years. Too bad I can only remember about half of it.

The Black Label came out of the cabinet, and I was given polite but firm instruction on how exactly God intended whiskey to be drunk.

Put ice in glass. Pour whiskey over ice. Sip

"and if I catch you puttin sodey-pop or something in your whiskey, I'll send you to sit with the wimmen, boy"

The old man loved his Dillon press. It was his favorite of the three he had in his reloading room. He couldn't stop saying nice things about it, even gave me a catalog from Dillon, and made me promise that if I bought a loader it would be a Dillon.

* The old guy was played by Levon Helm, former drummer for The Band. The man who wrote and sang The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.
He died of throat cancer just a couple weeks ago.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Monday Morning Coffee

Good morning and welcome to Cliff, who hit the follower button some time in the last week.

I've been remiss in keeping up with maintenance around here, so we'll get to that stuff first before I tell you about my awesome Sunday.

Finally updating my "Bloggers I've Met" list.

David and A Girl and Her Gun are up there now, great shooting with them last week.

Now I've added Brigid to the list as well. She is a cool and classy lady, and E.J.'s not a bad fella either.

The Bucket List gets another check mark.

The Broad Ripple Brew Pub certainly lived up to it's reputation.
Brigid's "eclectic menu" description didn't do it justice. There was some seriously weird Hippie food on there. (What the fuck is a Tapouli, anyway?)

I stuck with your basic Bison Burger, with cheddar and bacon and all the rest of the fixin's. Pretty damn good burger, even though I couldn't finish it. I think the Scotch Eggs appetizer took up too much space.

What impressed me most about meeting Brigid?
Was it all the weapons she kept pulling out of her purse to show the wife?
It was the Nachos.

Those babies were loaded. I was worried that a hottie like her was going to order a house salad with vinaigrette on the side, and nibble lettuce leaves while everyone else had real food.
Not a chance. She scarfed those bad boys down like nobody's business.

After lunch with Brigid and a stroll on the Monon, we went over to MSgt J's in-laws place for dinner.
That's a whole other blog post.

Right now it's time for me to get off the computer and get ready to go shooting with  MSgt J.

Y'all enjoy your Monday.