17 February 2007

Carbine conundrum

The CMP has made its much-awaited carbine sales announcement. If you're not one of my gun nuts, you've probably NOT been awaiting it, and you're most likely safe to skip this post.

In good news, it looks like they'll be offering just one "grade," or "quality" of carbine - Service Grade. Nothing crazy early period, and nothing pristine.

In more annoying news, they're releasing different manufacturers at staggered times. They'll be releasing the Inlands first, then nothing else until September at the earliest. No pricing information is currently available.

So. Here we are. As we know, Abby already has a carbine. But it's not GI - it's a Plainfield. Here's an image:

As you can tell, since it's not a collector, I've felt free to mess it up a little. I enjoy it and it shoots very well.

So now we have a dilemma. I've got my paperwork in order, and unless CMP does something totally abnormal with the pricing, I've got the bucks tucked away to get an Inland when they're released.

But I really want a Saginaw or Rock-ola. Or - a submanufacturer that I didn't know existed - Saginaw S'G' (Grand Rapids). That would be most cool. However, we can see the writing on the wall from the placement of these manufacturers at the end of the list (in fact, the Grand Rapids model is listed right before the ones they're going to AUCTION). Which tells us there won't be many, and they'll cost a kidney.

Hmmmm...I'm not sure about this. Let's look at the options.

1- Buy an Inland and say the hell with holding out for a rare builder.
2- Don't buy an Inland, and take my chances with the rich guys who live and breath this stuff, hoping I'll be in a place in the fall (geograhically, financially, etc) where I can get an application and check to CMP on a second's notice.
3- Buy an Inland and start squirreling money for another.
4- Pass on the whole carbine deal and focus on another "list gun."

I'm leaning toward option 1. It's a piece of history, and I'd like to have one of the GI carbines just to have it.

Hmmm...much thought is required. I go now to contemplate.

16 February 2007


When I was little, my Dad would occasionally do something called "storm work." He's a lineman, and big storms cause massive power outages, so he would work monster overtime for several days.

That was cool, because it meant a larger-than-expected check. My folks made this "bonus money," and although I'm sure they often employed it in useful and less-than-exciting ways, it also usually meant a TOY.

Not necessarily literally a TOY, but it meant there would be a totally gratuitous item. They would ensure I got SOMETHING and that it was clear that it represented MY SHARE of the surprise money. This normally wasn't anything crazy, but a new pair of shoes or something along those lines.

I always thought that was fun.

When I was a young Marine and broke consistently at the end of each pay period, PAYDAY was the holiday. Once I was less broke less often, I still made it a habit to out and get a steak on payday.

Mr. Abby and I do that now, even though we don't wait on paydays with bated breath and floating checks anymore. The 1st and the 15th are Steak Days.

I like to celebrate the little financial victories. Tax refunds, travel claims, that kind of thing, although normally earmarked for less-than-fun crap (I hate being a grownup. Who wants to spend money on appliances and vehicle repair?), usually also occasion a small new toy, dinner out, or abnormally good cooking at home.

This is all a really long explanation of why the Bad Dogs are being hysterical. Since we sold the house, I promised each of THEM a bonus item. Sparky is going to get a brand new squeaker toy, and Casey is getting a new bed.

As soon as the wire transfer clears. Which I'm waiting on. They know I'm headed to the Critter Store (because I told them), and they don't understand why, since I put on a belt and shoes, I don't LEAVE ALREADY.

Thought Provoking...

I'm printing things off and making phone calls to deal with the aftermath of the home sale, so I'm a little distracted (Nooo! Not distracted! Not Abby!), but I found this one at Slate.

It's a discussion of the way the interjection (which is only grudgingly acknowledged as a part of our language) has "come out of the closet" with the rise of writing on the internet.


Life lessons

I HATE the ones you have to learn again and again. Then again, I feel better that apparently, semi-drunken email is such a common social error that somebody makes a knick-knack about it.

If you're here as a result of said drunken email, the open post I talked about is gone. Struck me as a less-than-wise idea. Fortunately, the semi-inebriated screed on middle eastern dynamics remains in draft form.

Good lord...

Edit to add: You can actually buy these figurines.

15 February 2007

From the sitemeter

Referring URL
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is wine bad for dogs
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Feb 15 2007 6:12:17 pm

Dude, I don't know if wine is bad for dogs. But I know my dogs are already bad, and so I don't give them booze. Your mileage may vary.

We are officially


That is, we do not OWN A HOME. Some other guy now owns our home, and the Barn Cats of Satan.

I will now leave you and return to my champagne. Have a FABULOUS EVENING. We certainly are! [happy dance is ongoing!]

We're all gonna DIE!

Holy shit - it's the ATTACK OF THE KILLER PEANUT BUTTER!!!!!!!!!

This is the Bad Dog Family Peanut Butter. I did not for a second suspect it was lurking in our house and planning to kill us. Forunately, WFLA, our local NBC affiliate, provided us with THIS TIMELY REPORT.

Surely, though, our peanut butter doesn't want us dead, right? WRONG!

It's got the Peanut Butter Mark Of The Beast - a series number that begins with "2111..."

Maybe THAT explains THIS...

I'm unsure of what to do with this peanut butter. We've all been FINE. And it's barely half-used. So I don't really want to throw it away. But we probably shouldn't take any chances. I think tomorrow I shall take it out and BLOW IT UP. That seems the sensible course of action.

WalMart, Ammunition and Disappointment

So, the cupboard is getting pretty bare. Between getting the new handgun and taking a new shooter out the other weekend, I needed more ammo.

Now, I'm not like the guys on the gun message boards who think you're woefully unprepared if you don't have enough ammo on hand to hold off the entire Chinese Army. Let me tell you why I don't subscribe to that theory.

When Mr. Abby and I moved down here, we sent...a significant number of fireams with the movers (in fact we sent all of them, because firearms are not allowed in temporary housing on base. So we didn't bring any. Got it?). BUT - we had a fair amount of ammunition and the movers won't touch that. So we packed it up in a big green footlocker.

That was one heavy footlocker. We hand-carried it into each hotel along the way (always, always on the second floor), into temporary housing (second floor again). Then, when Mr. Abby was out of town (in the military sense) and Hurricane Charlie forced me to evacuate, an Army buddy and I dragged that goddam footlocker out of temporary housing and to a friend's fourth-floor apartment.

Never again. The next time we move, we're fitting everything into two 5.56mm ammo cans. If it's not going to fit, it's going to range and getting shot up. I am not schlepping another 100lb crate.

But still, I like to have enough handgun ammo on hand for three range trips. Considering that I usually shoot about 100 rounds per gun per trip (sometimes more, very occasionally less), that's 300 rounds of 9mm, and 300 rounds of .45. It's physically impossible to ever have less than 1000 rounds of .22 around, so that's not an issue, and our household .38 survive with less.

As you can see from the picture, I need more ammo. Walmart is the place to get it. I've been shooting Blazer Brass .45 lately. My guns like it and it's $9.97 for 50 rounds. The next best deal is Winchester .45, which recently jumped from 22.95 to 26.97 for 100.

So I wandered up to WallyWorld today, fully intending to back the jeep up and call for a forklift. But...but...they had NO Blazer .45 and like two boxes of WWB. They had one box of Blazer 9mm, but the one box of WWB 9mm was open and leaking rounds.

So I ended up buying 100 of .45 and the 50 rounds of Blazer 9mm. This does NOT make me happy. If you're into centerfire handguns, you are aware of the great ripoff that is Gun Range Ammunition. I cannot afford my hobby if I have to pay a minimum of $16 for a 50-round box of ammo.

I don't have a Gander Mountain, Cabelas, BassPro, etc near here. The closest ones are in Orlando. But I think the Gander Mountain there is having an ammo sale, so I may have to plan a road trip. This is unacceptable.


Of Daddy. Casey has recently become obsessed with Mr. Abby. For years, she more or less ignored him and tolerated his presence. But the past few weeks...she adores him. They went on a "date" last night (car ride). Sparky had to stay home with me, so she was feeling most superior.

Now she's knocked out on the couch, and I'm fairly sure she's waiting for him to come home in the hopes he'll take her for another ride.

Poor Mr. Abby. When he called her out of the yard to get in his truck last night, she raced right through some dog poo in her excitement. Then tracked it into his truck. So he's got some vehicle upholstery de-poo work to do tonight.

Tasker - 5 Things you don't know about Abby

These "memes," they frighten me. Tripping Daisy tagged me for this one.

Don't hold your breath for anything too juicy - family members read here. Here goes-

1- I dance in supermarket aisles in the afternoon if the muzak is good. I inherited from my father a shocking lack of a capacity to be embarassed by bad public singing and dancing.

2- I want to get auburn highlights in my hair. But my Mom decided to be a faux redhead while she's chemo-bald. Now I don't want to get the highlights until she gets her normal hair back because I don't want to be a chemo copy cat.

3- I was thrown out of the National Honor Society in high school.

4- I have kicked my dog to correct problem behavior. Worst thing about that? It worked. Still, I've only done it twice. Once to find out, once to correct a porch-crapping habit.

5- My one and only court appearance was because of my dog, and it was unrelated to the kicking. She was escaping the yard and chasing children. Specifically, black children. I had to confess this when enlisting in the Army and at every security investigation I've participated in. "My name is Abby and my dog is a violent racist."

How's that for weird ephemera? I'm only an egg, so I don't tag people. But that was fun.

Sittin' here, looking at my watch...

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, you say! What is Abby doing posting before 0900?

I know, I do not normally exist until around 1015 (or so). But this morning Mr. Abby was involved in a drawn-out phone conversation that woke me up just enough to have the single coherent thought, I really want a bowl of cereal.

Our house sale is closing today (we hope). So I'm just sitting here waiting for afternoon and insane phone calls. I'm also waiting on the pack of Cubans to come look at my ceiling.

I do need to do a WalMart run later, but let's not get all excited and do all the fun shit early, mmmkay?

14 February 2007

So. Damn. Sexy.

I get a lot of people launched in here on Google looking for information about M1 carbines.

It's getting closer, people. It looks like they may not come up for sale on 1 March like we were hoping. But it still bears watching.

So listen - here is the page for CMP M1 carbine updates.

Here is the page that tells you about the requirements and procedures for purchasing rifles from CMP.

If you are on active duty, that suffices as "club membership" and "proof of marksmanship activity."

If you are a veteran for whom a DD214 suffices as proof of marksmanship and simply need a club, you need to join the Garand Collector's Association. It suffices for CMP purposes. I belong.

OK. That's the best I can do. Remember - M1 carbines rock, and you need one. You should buy two, and send one to me.

It's a rough life

I swear we did not pose him for this shot. This is life with Sparky.

Yep. That's a beach towel and a couch blanket. And a pillow. It's a rough life he leads, hey?

I've got a dog story for you guys. A good one. But it involves sex. And vomit. Want to hear it? Let me know...

Valentine's Day

If you're in Tampa and need a last-minute idea for Valentine's Day, and if you're a weird, sick individual...

You can go watch critter sex at the zoo. Watch weasels screwing like weasels. See actual goatfuckery. Or something.

No - you will NOT see Mr. Abby and me there.

Policy Statement

We turned on CNN a couple of minutes ago and President Bush was holding a press conference. As an aside, he's looking much more comfortable since he's not going to stand for re-election again. I can't blame him for that.

But an important question came up. As soon as the transcript is posted, I'll link to it, but for now I'll paraphrase.

Reporter: Mr. President, is there any way it's possible for Americans who disagreed with you to still support the troops?

President: Blah blah blah...yatta yatta yatta. Standard answer about how everyone's patriotism is equal...

I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'm going to say something blunt, and I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings.

If you stand for anything but U.S. victory in Iraq and Afghanistan, you do not support the troops.

I'm sure you still like the troops. I'm not saying you're the type to throw rocks at them, but you do not support them.

But, but
, you whine. I didn't support the war before it started, and I still think the best way to support them is to bring them home!

Nope. The time to oppose the war was before it started. The world is not equipped with a rewind button. The war happened and it's happening. That debate is over.

There is debate about what, exactly, defines "victory" in Iraq. Definitions vary. For working purposes, I'll say that a win looks like this:
1- an elected representative government
2- working and transparent judicial system
3- all major ethnic groups living with minimal strife - or at least wary tolerance
4- Armed and organized military and paramilitary bodies under the strict and functional control of government bodies
5- A total lack of internal meddling by other states or groups.

We can refine that.

If you do not support this outcome (or one very like it, remember, it's a flexible definition), you do not support the troops.

Note that this does NOT equate to wholehearted and total enthusiastic support of George W. Bush and his policy. Really. You know those polls that the defeatists, the cut-and-runners, keep trotting out? (This was published at the end of 2006)

Only 35% of the military members polled this year said they approve of the way Bush is handling the war, and 42% said they disapprove. While approval of the president's war leadership has slumped, his overall approval remains high among the military.

Just as telling, in this year's poll only 41% of the military said the U.S. should have gone to war in Iraq in the first place, down from 65% in 2003. That closely reflects the beliefs of the general population — 45% agreed in a recent USA TODAY-Gallup poll.

You know what this poll is saying? I can put it in quote marks for you, what "the troops" are saying with these numbers.

"Fucking president fucked this up. Now it's a giant political goatfuck and we're just not going to do what we have to do to win it. Fuck. I'm going to be back here in ten years, and my kids are probably going to end up fucking around in this shithole."

Seriously. That's it. That's the point. They're losing confidence in our national commitment.

There can be national debate, and it can be vigorous. There are more than two options. It's too bad that so many Americans think there are only two.

A) I support the President and everything he says and he's RIGHT!
B) I hate the President, and everything he says and does. We ought to bring those poor soldiers home right now. Bush lied! People died!

We are at war. If we give up and bring everyone home, that will have major consequences in the world. No kidding. Major bad serious no-shit consequences. We've talked about that before.

We need a win. And we need to find a way to do that. It won't be easy. I think we're on the right track with the surge. I honestly think we need more bodies. There's a bit of history in Iraq which should have taught us that it's entirely possible to push the Bad Guys out of one area and have them simply hide in another until things settle down.

It's okay to want to do things differently. And it's okay to disapprove of the current plan, or a past plan. In fact, that's great.

That, folks, is the ultimate support you owe your troops. You, through your elected representatives, need to ensure they are employed in the pursuit of victory. You cannot allow your representatives to wobble. You must decide what you believe is the course to victory and urge that pursuit. Be vocal. Hold their feet to the fire. Get on the phone, buy a map of Iraq, read about what's going on, and call your representative! Send a damn eight-page letter with YOUR strategy for victory. Take an active interest in finding a solution.

Your troops will do anything for this country. No kidding. They will, and do, walk through fire and hell for you. All they ask is that you use them with care. That you do not send them off with a fanfare, then get distracted by Anna Nicole Smith and, after having your TV-watching interrupted, grow bored and want them to stop fighting and come back.

Our country has committed. Our troops have committed. Many, many American civilians have committed. We have a duty to keep our leaders committed, and on a constant and vigorous hunt for victory.

Iraq, whether we all thought it was the right part of the swamp to drain or not, is now a part of a true battle between Us and Them. It's really that simple. There are two major movements in the Middle East that are committed to attacking the United States, our civilians and our way of life.

Saying it's too hard and bringing everyone home for hugs is technically an option, but it's a very very bad one. A long view is called for.

We get to choose. We get to choose between whether we're fighting another Vietnam or another World War II. One war cost us 58,000 in a halfhearted politically-wavering effort. The other, more than 291,000 killed in an effort that ultimately saved the world as we know it.

13 February 2007

Dispatches from a foreign land...

Or something like that. I guess.

I read Slate fairly regularly. Lots of good writing. But there is a trend I've found a little tiresome. Slate treats the midwest (and the south, but especially the midwest) like it's...Madagascar or something.

I'm kind of used to hearing people talk about the rural midwest like it's some sort of imaginary, idealized place. That always strikes me as odd - I don't know that many midwesterners who really think the major coastal cities are like...Saturn. In fact, I think most midwesterners I know have, at one time or another, been farther from home than their local VFW pancake breakfast.

Normally I think this is slightly amusing, in an eye-rolling sort of way.

"Yes," I'll say to my more urban, metropolitan friends. "My high school had a dairy farm next door. No - we didn't lock the doors. In fact, they propped them open in the spring. No - that didn't lead to a problem with gangs or crazed gunmen, but the school smelled like cow shit an awful lot."

And they'll chuckle. Oh, those quaint midwesterners!

But for some reason, this chapped my ass. The "Ain't that America" photo selection from Slate.

It's white people and farms and harvesting! Oh my! Come here, darling - observe these strange images from the hinterlands! It's as though this is some strange anthropological study from Papua New Guinea or some shit.

Dude! This is like...I dunno...normal pictures of a reasonably large portion of the country. Some people have cows. And they go to fairs. And they even have cars and driveways! And yes, the people who live on wheat farms harvest the wheat, because that's what they do for a living.

Jesus H. Christ.

Further (you could tell this was going to be long one, couldn't you?), why are like half the pictures from the 50s and 60s? The desperation to achieve a sense of provincialism absolutely reeks from this collection, but mixing in even grainier imagery of old people at gas stations in 1954...

What the hell is the point of this photo essay?

I don't know, but it pisses me off. I may have to rant more on this subject from another angle. There is a significant part of the country, and it's a statistical minority, that really believes its day-to-day experiences are some sort of "norm" for Americans. The only problem is, this minority lives in coastal enclaves and seems to think about things for a living.

That's not most of the country. And - here's a hint - it's not the important part of the country.

On strike

This is unbelievable. That springer spaniel was okay...but definitely not the best offering in the sporting group. The PBGB? If I hadn't been on the phone, I'd have put a boot through the TV.

I can barely bring myself to watch the herding group. I wonder which undersized fruitbat will win this one?

Leaky roof

So the leak wasn't too bad. We were getting some pretty torrential rain, and we've got a couple "weak spots" in the kitchen. It really shouldn't surprise me that one of them finally went.

Of course, this means a call to the landlord. Although our slumlords are very nice people, they have not in the past shown a lot of enthusiasm about spending money on the place. They're trying to sell it, so that's not a good sign.

I figure there's a 50/50 chance they'll dispatch a horde of illegal immigrants to fix the problem. They've done that before (which explains, in a strange way, how I ended up with a bathroom towel bar bolted to my old refrigerator in place of a handle).

There's an equally good chance they'll just send someone over to paint the area and persist in trying to sell it.

I could really give a rat's ass, but we're going to be here a little while longer, and spring/summer in Florida brings nothing so much as torrential downpours. I can see the entire ceiling collapsing inward when the first hurricane brushes by.

So I have a phone call to make tomorrow.


More from the dog show...

So we're hanging around preparing to be underwhelmed again. Last night, Westminster seemed to like the really faggy dogs.

Hunters, hounds and herding dogs, oh my!

shit...shit shit shit

Yeah, it's raining like hell here. And I'm talking to the dogs and drinking coffee. And then I hear, "tink...tink..."

No...I think. Please, no....

"tink...tink...tink tink...."

I had to look. The goddamn mutherfucking cocksucking sonuvabitch ratbastard piece of shit ROOF IS LEAKING!!!!

Poor Sparky

It's storming here. It's a good storm for this time of year, with good thunder. We just had a nearby BOOM that was almost enough to put me on the floor.

Casey's in our bedroom, hiding. Sparky is on my lap shaking like a leaf. He was okay up until that last one, but I think it pushed him over the edge.

Must be scary to be a dog in a thunderstorm.

12 February 2007

John Couey

I assume you're familiar with this SHPOS (that's sub-human piece of shit, for y'all who don't know).

John Couey is the guy who kidnapped, raped and buried alive a young girl here not all too long ago. She did not survive. He was already registered as a sexual predator when he did it.

We feel comfortable saying he's guilty because he admitted to the crime (seriously, read the background if you're not already familiar with the case). A procedural error caused his confession to be excluded from the trial on the matter.

So the good Florida legal system moved the trail to Miami, since it was decided he couldn't get a fair trial here. Now they're trying to decide if it can be a death penalty case, because maybe Mr. Couey ain't all there.

OK. You know, this all seems pretty simple to us. But apparently it's not. So here's a solution. Release him. Turn John Couey loose. Televise the fact that you're going to do it, then turn him loose in a set of bright orange prison overalls. Anywhere in the state.

I don't approve of much about Florida, but I do approve of the way I know that would be handled. Some people really have foreited their right to live. John Couey is one of them.

Oooh! Surprise!

We get another group tonight! We have the non-sporting group. Favorites include dalmations and english bulldogs (it's a Marine thing).

We cannot abide the bichon frise. We're knee-deep in old people down here, so we're knee-deep in these. Man, they look like they'd make for some good dog kickin'. Of course, we don't.

Chows. Man, I see almost as many of these tied up outside of trailers as I do pits.

The Tibetan Spaniel looks like another one I should be cooking.

The...the...standard poodle? Jesus GOD!

(bonus points if you know who I stole that closing saying from!)


I hate these dogs. Seriously. I want to cook them.

I'm watching the Pekinese right now and I just want to kick it.

"one of the most popular breeds of all time, the poy toodle - uh - toy poodle..." So say the announcers. Looks like I'm not the only one who feels like wine is the best way to cope with the toy group.

I've met some pretty good poodles. How could anyone inflict this haircut on a dog? Either of my dogs would kick your ass for this haircut.

The pug? Someday I'll tell you about Scooter Lady and her pug. And her retarded son.

Sparky says, "what the fuck is the deal with that yorkshire terrier?"

I agree. We disapprove.

Hmm...the yorkie made the cut. This judge is trying to look far too manly to be judging the toy group.

Oh no - the toy poodle?

So what we get out of tonight is the akita, the dandie dinmont freakin' terrier, and the toy poodle?

I spit. Tomorrow night better cough me up a serious hound, a nice big dalmation and a G. Shepherd.

Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me...

Mr. Abby has been insisting on switching back and forth with some stupid sci-fi show, so I didn't catch the end of the group. Please tell me it wasn't the dandie dinmomt - OH GOD IT WAS!!!

Jesus Christ...

I try not to hold the haircuts against the dogs. I really do. I've known some awesome miniature poodles in my time.

But come on...that name isn't even a dog name. Dandie Dinmont? I'd kick its ass on the playground. And so would you.

Bad terrier!

Someone just bit the handler! The soft-coated wheaten! Right when he was lifted off the box!

Bad terrier!

Pit Bull (Terriers)

I do feel for all the "pit bull" types. I've met some very nice pits, and some very nice American Staffordshire Terriers, etc. I do tend to believe it's nuture, not nature, that makes these dogs bad neighbors.

However, I own a herding dog, so I can't totally discount the degree to which genes bear on behavior.

If you own a "pit type," I think you have a particular responsibility to ensure your dog is a good canine citizen. Because they can be. And no dog deserves to be labled "dangerous" and euthanized in the county shelter just because its owner couldn't take the time to train it.

Terrier Group

We don't talk about the terriers. It is the Official Position of BDC that Yorkies are terriers, not toys. Thus, we view any winner in the terrier group to be invalid.

More when the Toys are complete.

I hate this commercial

the one with the homeless dogs? Hate that. Props to Pedigree, but c'mon...we already love the dogs if we're watching the show. In fact, I regularly ignore "people charities" to give money to homeless dogs. The commercial is a bummer.

I detect a distinct anti-bullmastiff bias in the judging. We like the boxer (of course), and the Newfoundland. The rest are sled dogs and decorations. OK - we do think the Bernese Mountain Dog is handsome. I hate that stupid mop dog.

Akitas, malamutes and then the Newfie?

Tellwiddem, as Garrison Keillor would say. More later.

Welcome to the dog show!

I always forget these things are two-night evolutions. So no herding group until tomorrow night. Not that I'm bitter. We're going to start off with the working group here in a minute. I, of course, have a breed favorite here.

- Note - the best part about watching dogs shows is the commercials. Who doesn't love these Pedigree "We're for dogs" ads?

Casey isn't overwhelmingly into the dog show, but she is overwhelmingly into the pretzels I'm sharing with her. Sparky is having a car ride (beer run w/ Mr. Abby), so he'll be back in time for the Toy Group.

Oooh! They're entering the ring and I just caught a flash of bullmastiff! I had bullmastiffs when I was growing up and they are awesome. Totally under-recognized breed.

Wow - the Akita and its handler look a lot alike. Judging strictly from appearance, I don't think I'd want to have either over for a beer.

These announcers are amazing. The malamute is "the equivalant of the horse, but in the north."

Man, these Bernese Mountain Dogs look great. But hairy.

Oooh! Boxer boxer boxer!!! He is SO not as handsome as Sarge. I do not approve of those cropped ears.

Now, hold on - is that bullmastiff not a fabulous looking dog? What a tough guy. You don't get to know what sweeties they are unless you get one. Love 'em.

More to follow - Mr. Abby being needy and I've seen most of my group favorites already.

Hey, there, Trojan!

Yeah, YOU. Whoever was checking out the blog from my old high school today. Howdy!

Random info

I know you all are used to like 7,000 posts a day, and I'm sorry to disappoint. We've been involved with the whole selling-a-house-via-FEDEX adventure today. I also went back to the did-you-bring-a-passport job place ("staffing consultants" aka "temp agency") this morning.

Mr. Abby and I were talking about my lack of success at finding any menial job, and decided we could probably chalk it up the I-feel-like-shit-applying-for-this-stupid-job attitude that I probably can't hide during interviews. Fortunately, the "staffing consultants" don't seem to care if I hate myself for being there - I think they'll be employing me. Which is fortunate, because the CMP is going to release those carbines soon, and Abby needs some scratch.

In other news, the dogs and I outvoted Mr. Abby, and the main TV will be tuned to the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show tonight. I am working on a bottle of pinot grigio that's very nice, so you all can probably look forward to mildly inebriated dog show blogging later.

I know - you're on the edge of your seat.

11 February 2007

Frank discussion

...of an adult topic.

Listen, I'm really thrilled that there are products out there to help men "of a certain age" continue to...experience all facets of life in a satisfying manner. Know what I mean? I really am happy for all involved. Sex rocks. I assume it would suck to want sex, be in a situation where sex was available, and not be able to have sex.

So I'm totally over the Levitra, Viagra and Cialis commericials. With the exception of the dude throwing the football through the tire swing, they don't bother me a bit. "Smiling Bob" from the Natural Male Enhancement commercials is cool.

But now there's a new one. Who out there has seen the Maxoderm commercial? There are two and they usually run back to back. The first one is pretty normal, late middle-aged dude in a bar picking up some sleazy chick. But the second one...I defy you to watch it and think anything except, "that's an Amway salesman picking up a hooker!"

And for some reason, the commercial sets it up like the hooker cares that they guy is using Maxoderm. I totally don't get that. I mean, other than shortening the total amount of time before she grabs the stack of 20's off his nightstand at the Amway convention hotel, what the hell does she care about his...potency?

A note - I really tried to bring you all this commercial for easy viewing. The only youtube maxoderm commercial, though, is a different one. And the Google search? You don't want to hear about that.

Good Sunday - Range Time, etc

Had a range day today. I continue to adore the Warrior, and recommend it most highly. The M9 is handling very well. The "D spring" conversion helped significantly with the DA first shot. I still prefer to not take a DA shot, but it's center mass if I do, so that makes me happy.

The range was a zoo today. It usually is on the weekend, but that makes for better people watching. Some pretty decent shooters today. Nobody fabulous, but less cringe-inducing than normal. Right before I left, a fairly large laugh-and-shriek-and-shout group came in. I'm all about people having social range outings, but too much tomfoolery gives me the willies, so I was happy to be finishing up.

Okay - question for all you men out there. Why do you insist on bringing your girlfriend to the range and renting her a large caliber, double-action pistol? She doesn't do very well with it. Actually, normally you don't do very well with it either. Stop that. It's not nice.

How 'bout this, tough guy? Next time I see you rent your chick a DA .45 and then laugh at her for not shooting well with it, then proceed to not shoot much better yourself, I'm going to put her on my 1911 and have her shooting better than you in 5 minutes. Dorks.

-In reality, I'm the last person who will accost you at the range and "offer advice." I hate people who do that. But if you're at the range, and you want to chat or shoot my toys, just ask. I'll share.-

Weblog maintenance

OK. If you've commented here before, I love you and I have your comments in archive, but you can't see them anymore.

That's because I'm trying out HaloScan, which will run my comments and allow me to participate in this magical "trackback" thing.

So...Hammer, LeeAnn, and all the rest of you who occasionally drop in, please leave me a remark so I can see if it works!

Weird Sunday Project

Today finds Abby cleaning out her jewelry box. Good Lord...

But, Abby - I can hear you saying - you don't seem like the jewelry type!

I'm not, mostly. I wear my wedding ring most of the time (not when shooting or running or swimming - that type of activity). I adore bizarre earrings, mostly featuring fish (don't ask - it's a theme).

And, like any female in the United States, I have accumulated stuff. I have my grandpa's wedding ring that I'm fairly sure he made himself. I have a saphirre ring my folks brought me from a trip. A small diamond from Mr. Abby.

And necklaces. A zillion necklaces ranging from "keeper" to "something you'd give a 5-year-old." And the vast majority of them were snarled together in a giant knot that I just finished unraveling.

And charms/pendants? Whoo, brother. I haven't ever disposed of anything in my jewelry box. I think I have a Strawberry Shortcake charm, for chrissake. Of course, mixed in with these are the ones I really want to keep - the whale tail, another sapphire, etc. And some weird ones. A small likeness of the Virgin Mary?

Anyway, I'm off to finish this one up. An explanation of the why will follow later.

Oh - weird-ass highlights from the jewelry box? A small crescent wrench, several car fuses, one gold finish Marine Corps chevron for wear with a uniform item I don't think either of us owns, a .22 hollowpoint, and half a candy cane.