Aye! Carrumba! Es no Colt

The guy outbid me and others and was smug at winning the Colt 1901,one of the earliest double-action revolvers in general U.S. military service. Except it wasn't.

Barrel inscription: ".38 Spc or U.S. Service Ctg." No other markings visible.

Those danged Latinos again.

This particular gun seemed tight enough. It probably would discharge a cartridge. Otherwise it scored about 9,5 on the one-to-ten ugly scale.  Still, it would have been fun to have on the wall for a price less extravagant than  $155. If nothing else I could make up a nice yarn about having had it analyzed by a crack metallurgist who confirmed it was made of melted Arbuckle's cans.

I can't explain the  ".38 Spc" except by speculating that the Mexican (or possibly Spanish) gun maker knocked it off after about 1909, by which time everyone still  devoted the the . c. .357 diameter bullet gave up on the .38 Long Colt and started  chambering these revolver types for .38 Special.

---

A middlin' High Standard HD,  4-inch heavy-barrel version, brought $$320, and I  am middlin' regretful I didn't make the other guy pay quite a little more.

For the tenth month...

She's a little out of character for this label. Too young, for one thing, and neither glamorous nor alluring in the Garbo/Bacall sense. But since WWCO has recently been trying to feature a womanage named for each new month, it's the best your author can do. She's not even named right. Few girls are called "October," and Ms. Bush earns her place here because she once played an October in a movie.

On the other hand, she's pretty enough in the Hefner usage of the word, and she  seems ply her trade with her intimacies left to the imagination.  This is about as skinny as she gets.

Next month will be even harder, so if any of youse guys can think of a candidate named November, I'll appreciate a leg up.

The national casting couch

The first presidential "debate" airs in three days and a wakeup. For some reason it reminds me of a passage in one of W.E.B. Griffin's "The Corps" novels.

A sergeant is herding a batch of Marine recruits from a New York rail station to Parris Island. He explains that they are not to screw around lest he have their asses.  That's necessary, but this noncom is one of the petty tyrants who enjoys it too much. His dignity depends on humiliating others. He ends his harangue with the usual "Any Questions?" A recruit raises his hand.

"Why is your hand up, Asshole?" he demands.

"You asked if there were any questions, Sir," the recruit replies.

"I didn't mean it."  He turns and stalks off "quite pleased with himself."

----

A desire sings in the soul. Would that vast revelation descend on the American electorate. No matter what His Ineptness says, no matter how Dufus Romney retorts, they do not mean it.

There will be no debate on which aspirant is most likely to  competently administer the  affairs of the federal government.  There will be an audition for the role of father, protector, best friend, jovial uncle, seer, Santa Claus, and spiritual leader.

---

Another line from some old novel or movie sticks with me. An aging starlet walks into a producer's office, lays the audition script on his table, and says: "I want this role and I'll ball anybody I have to to get it." It's a useful concept to keep in mind Wednesday night.

Saturday vintage skin show

Inspired by TCM's wee-hours showing of the 1940 "Pride and Prejudice."

I suppose there are those who would question the macho quotient of a guy who thinks Jane Austen was a genius -- and a funny one at that. So be it. If it gets out of hand I'll post a self-portrait shooting an assault rifle or something.

Miss Garson played Elizabeth in the tale, which, on a sub-level, is a fine treatment of what happens in a society which deems it vulgar to earn money but quite refined to marry or inherit someone else's.

The photo is, of course, a promo for some other movie.