So, your horrified mate in the next cubicle has given up hamburgers. Not only will the ammonia used to clean up pink slime kill him, the added hormones  are likely to shirvel his penis or grow an extra toe. Something horrible, anyway. The electric teevee told him so.

Jinglebob has had enough and decided to pass along a point or two. Among them, in reference to those killer hormone additives to cow food:


One Birth Control Pill contains the same amount of estrogen 
as 125,000 lbs of beef from an implanted steers.


As to gassed pink slime, there's about there's about twice as much ammonia in your MacDonald's bun as in the cow patty itself.

There's a good deal more there from our buddy at the live-moo end of the beef business. It should reduce the anxiety you feel from broiling a small sirloin to go with your Saturday morning eggs.

Point and click ammo

DirtCrashr went to the range to learn more about pistol handling when your world goes sour. Well worth a read, even the part about his flowered tactical Hawaiian combat shirt. :)

This snippet got to me:

Ammo OALs have been all over the map, loads found backwards and loads found empty and loads found mixed: half a box of .45 and half 9mm. Some good stuff remains: Black Hills, Hornady, Fiocchi...


I always hate reading stuff like that because when I use a factory round it's likely to be from the "value" (read: cheap) shelf. I was raised to simply trust  ammunition makers; to believe that the odds were prohibitively against a  bum primer or missing powder. In truth, I can recall virtually no ammunition failures, which may prove only that I don't shoot enough.

I don't doubt that more and more crap is getting through some makers' quality control systems. After all, in a world where Austrians get rich by melting down two-litre Coke bottles and casting them into $600 pistols, any outrage is possible, even probable.

---

EDIT: I meant to include a suggestion that you scroll down a couple-three posts at the Crashr's. Seems our Man in California is rediscovering the beauty of steel frames and walnut handles. Why, next thing you know he'll be reporting that linseed oil is almost as good as Hoppes when  you and your pals get together for aromatherapy. :)









Ammo OALs have been all over the map, loads found backwards and loads found empty and loads found mixed: half a box of .45 and half 9mm. Some good stuff remains: Black Hills, Hornady, Fiocchi...

Why we're broke

A hot bulletin from local radio announces a "stakeholder meeting" for one of our boondoggles good works in-progress -- an official "Glacial Trail Scenic Byway."

Some 36 miles of interesting little roads wander through counties just south of me. The scenery is pretty, but of course no citizen has ever noticed that because they're unofficial, both scenery-wise and byway-wise.

The Rules clearly specify that commoners require government guidance to recognize pretty things, and at all costs they must not be left to their own devices in determining that a lonely, twisty, potholed, two-lane tarmac is the optimum route for driving to where they wish to be.

In case you can't make the meeting, permit me to summarize: At least three concerned people will "present." The official sign will be unveiled. A "light" meal will be served. (No, I don't know what's on the carte, but an entree of pureed dandelion blossoms is one of the likely candidates.)

Anyway, the announcement got me wondering. Who pays?

A Binger revealed that you do. Shocking, eh?  This particular extortion mechanism is a federal  Department of Transportation sub-bureau assigned to turn country roads into astounding national treasures. It seems to pay 80 per cent.  I also wondered who gets to decide. And what the criteria are.  Why, the federal experts on pretty things do, of course, and the criteria seem to be a little loose.

Our definition of "scenic" reaches beyond breathtaking vistas. All of America's Byways® are "scenic", representing the depth and breadth of scenery in America--natural and man-made panoramas; electrifying neon landscapes; ancient and modern history coming alive; native arts and culture; and scenes of friends, families and strangers sharing their stories.

I see. Wonderful. By that measure my driveway qualifies. It's in rough shape and doesn't go much of anywhere. Anciently,  the native Americans certainly trod it. Wildlife still does,even if you don;t count New Dog Libby.  The man-made panorama is stunning, vehicles parked organically, a lawn tractor resting naturally where it ran out of gas under a majestic cottonwood, the tenacious red cedars struggling for the sun from the pile of glacially deposited granite boulderettes.

It is indeed a candidate, and I hereby apply for funding to bring it to world attention as the Camp J 200-Foot Scenic Byway. I can probably get it all arranged for $100,000 -- signs. maps, advertising, PR counsel-- even including my own modest salary. Please forward your share, 80 big ones, and I'll get on it immediately.

'course, if you insist on a breathtaking panorama of electrifying neon signs, that will be a little extra.

Waiting on Ron Paul in WalMart Aisle 7

The good doctor says on Facebook he'll be guest host on CNBC's "Squawk Box" this morning starting about 6:30 EDT, e.g. now.

While I'm waiting, I'm watching  CNBC cover the scandal of WalMart bribing Mexican thugs, i.e. almost everyone high in that godforsaken government,  for the right to do business down there. 

A certain astonishment is evident in the teevee men and women doing the reporting, which suggests to me that they're more than a little parochial.  

The decision-making process for engaging in commerce -- large or small --  in Mexico is quite simple.

--Shall we do business South of the Border (yes or no)?

--If "yes" find out who there needs bribing, gather up the cash, and send it.