May 26, 2010

Offa my lawn you tall, noisy jerk

Mr. Turtle needs to thank the turtle gods for my still adequate eyesight and reflexes. He came within inches of being the late Mr. Turtle by way of a whirling mower blade.

He is instead internet famous now, and I am taking bookings for his report on a  near-death experience. Discounts to the trade and all libertarian oriented groups.

May 25, 2010

I wish to honor the memory of Sylvia Edwards of Lee's Summit, Missouri, who died today.  She faced problems far beyond the norm  and handled them with grace and humor. Rest well Friend.

M1 Carbine-- just milsurp junk

As we all know, the M1  Carbine is  a sloppy WW2 make-do, a substitute for the pistol and designed to permit the untrained citizen soldier  to inconvenience the enemy to a slightly greater degree than permitted by his  1911A1 skills.

Ergo this group could not possibly  have been fired by my friend Ken from a run-of-the-mill  GI carbine a couple of months ago,  five  shots at some 35 yards, standing, leaning on a tractor tire,  on a cold day.

The aiming mark  is 1 3/4 inches. The group measures 5/8.  I don't know the ammo, but we usually grab a handful from which ever can is closest. 

I would claim this target as my own, but sometimes Ken reads this crap.

May 24, 2010

Overheard in an Iowa Gander Mountain on the Mississippi

Me: (Places a box of box of  9mm Luger blasting ammo -- $14.99 --  and a $20 bill on the counter.)

She: Your zip code?

Me: You don't need to know that.

She: Yes I do. (Pause) Oh, I need to know if you live in Iowa or Illinois.

Me. Why?

She: Because if you live in Illinois I can't sell you bullets. You live in Iowa or Illinois?

Me: I do not live in Illinois. (This was wretched expedience over principles. I wanted the rounds  and I wanted to get on the road pronto. Mea clupa.)

She: (Gives her customer a glare of pure hatred,  picks up the twenty and rings the sale. Bags the "bullets" and forces a thin kyu through her painted lips. )

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Supposing I had told this twit that I was on my way home to Staten Island?