07 July 2007

The carbine issue

I keep pulling the carbine out and looking at it. I just do not care for that M2 stock. Yes, yes, it's cosmetic. But I'm a shallow woman.

Here's a better picture I just took in the driveway. If this entry ends suddenly, it means the neighbors got weirded out and called the popo. I'd be disappointed by that, seeing as this is Texas.

So. It's pretty, but I can't get over the unsexy stock. I need something like this one.

But not that one, because that's the one that came with my Plainfield, which means it's not the original GI. And that, my friends, is part of the adventure. So. In between doing the things I should be doing with the new house, and pretending to be a decent stepmom and at least a mediocre wife, I am working on this:

That's an original GI stock (in a bag). It's sweating out the old cosmoline and other nastiness (hence the bag and the sun), but it shows signs of cleaning up nicely. I have a big ol' can of boiled linseed oil waiting in the garage. This stock has a nice Ordnance Corps acceptance stamp, and a couple of other nice markings that are becoming clear as I remove the ick.

I think, in the end, it will please me. Which is really all that matters, I think.

06 July 2007

Nature is cruel

and often, critters with injuries, defects or deformities don't last too long in the wild.

That's how we know that this is one badass tiger.

The tiger was captured twice on camera -- once in March and again in May -- roaming the forests of the Tesso Nilo national park on Sumatra island with the lower half of his right front leg missing, said a WWF official, Sunarto.

The time span makes it seem as if said tiger is getting along just fine. "Yeah," he says. "I've got three legs, and I can still do all that tiger shit."

Color me impressed.

05 July 2007

Warm fuzzy firearm goodness

I'm sure you don't want to hear me whine about the issues I've been having recently with the camera and my laptop. Suffice it to say I have to weasel my way onto the desktop to deal with images. It's a mystery.

[pauses to interact with pictures. sighs in frustration]

Then, of course, it turns out the pictures suck. Oh, well. I've been yammering about this M1 carbine for so long you're getting the only decent picture. They sent me an M2 stock, which is in great shape, but it's not the sexy, slim stock I so adore.

I have a standard M1 stock from the Planfield Frankengun, but I haven't even had an opportunity to take the carbine apart for its Big Cleaning yet, so that can wait. I'm sure if I poke around, I can find a GI M1 stock, too. Not a big deal. The metal is all good, and the cosmoline isn't that bad, other than around (and in) the rear sight.

Since I only have one workable carbine shot, I'll share something else. A while ago we talked about guns that are not suitable for attempting murder, because they're wimpy and you end up with rounds lodged between the skin and skull of your intended victim. Didn't know I have one of those useless guns, didja?

I picked up this .25 Galesi for next to nothing in one of those I-love-this-country parking lot transactions a couple months back. It actually hits where you point it (more or less) at the sort of ranges at which one might have to use it. I get failures to feed pretty often on the last round in the magazine, which could probably be fixed with a new magazine spring if I were so inclined.

I bought it more as a curio than anything else, and so I haven't done anything other than a little cursory cleaning. But it's cute. And shiny.

Stealing a meme

...from Rachel Lucas, because my Inspiration Meter is bottomed-out.

WHAT INSULTING NICKNAMES WERE YOU CALLED IN CHILDHOOD? Dude...y'all know my name. Crabby Abby, Gabby Abby, Flabby Abby (although I was not a pudgy child)...alas, nobody ever called me "Stabby Abby," which would have been kinda cool.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? WHEN YOU CRY, DO YOU LOOK UGLY, OR DOES IT GIVE YOU A BEAUTIFUL SAD GLOW? Ugly. There's no such thing as beautiful crying. That's why I try not to do it.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? ARE YOU FORGETTING HOW TO WRITE BECAUSE YOU SPEND SO MUCH TIME ON THE COMPUTER? That's not a problem for me - my handwriting has always sucked. I simply print now - my third grade teacher would be appalled at how much I do not use the cursive skills she so thoroughly beat into me.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? DO YOU THINK VEGETARIANS ARE INSANE? (BECAUSE THEY ARE.) No. Just misguided. But that's okay, because it means more meat for me.


IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? IF YOU WERE A DOG, WOULD YOU LICK YOURSELF JUST BECAUSE YOU COULD? DON'T TRY TO DENY IT. Yes. Constantly. I'd be that dog that embarassed you and which you lock in the back room when there's company over.

DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? ARE YOU AS FRIGHTENED OF CLOWNS AS YOU SHOULD BE IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU? Yes. I'm the fourth clown-hating female generation of my family. And we're all alive. And we all still hate clowns. Even my 104 year-old great grandmother.

DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? IF YOU COULD BE EITHER VERY BEAUTIFUL OR VERY SMART, WHICH WOULD YOU CHOOSE AND WHY? Very beautiful. I've been reasonably bright for a while now, and that hasn't done a whole lot for me. So I think it would be fun to be reasonably hot for a while.

WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? HOW MUCH MONEY WOULD YOU REQUIRE TO HAVE INTIMATE RELATIONS WITH MICHAEL MOORE OR ROSIE O'DONNELL (DEPENDING ON YOUR SEXUAL PREFERENCE BUT DOES THAT REALLY MATTER WITH THESE TWO)? Let's see...a night at a decent beachfront hotel in the Keys runs about $200. I can consume $200 in booze and chow in beachfront bars in 24 hours. Add in $100 a day for smokes and gas... We'll say $500 a day minimum to hide out in the islands, plus a little for fishing and boat rentals and such... 500 x 90 days is $45,000...plus say $10,000 for the incidentals...that's $55,000...plus another $50,000 to take care of my bills and responsibilities while I'm livin' the dream...that's a little more than $100,000....double that so I don't come off sounding TOO easy...add a little for the horror...call it a quarter million, and Michael has to bring the quart of whiskey.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CUSS WORD? I love them all. Every single goddam one of them.

DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?IF YOU'RE A MAN, HAVE YOU EVER CAUGHT YOUR JUNK IN YOUR ZIPPER? HOW BAD DID IT HURT? IF YOU'RE A WOMAN, HOW GLAD ARE YOU THAT YOU'RE NOT A MAN? I dunno. Pantyhose suck ass. Then again, we don't have to wear ties. Then again, they don't have to wear heels. It's a wash.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING TO GROW OLD OR DIE TRAGICALLY YOUNG? I don't think about it a whole lot these days. However, I'm reasonably sure it won't be anywhere nearly as dramatic as we all like to think of our deaths as being. I'm thinking starving to death trapped beneath a bookcase I tip onto myself, then having my corpse devoured by stray dogs. Or something like that.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? DESCRIBE YOUR MOST RECENT NIGHTMARE. I don't have nightmares. I haven't had them in years. I occasionally dream about something unpleasant, but I don't wake up afraid. Sometimes sad, never afraid.

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? DO YOU WISH THAT, INSTEAD OF PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION DEBATES, THEY INSTEAD HAD TO BOX EACH OTHER, BECAUSE THEN THERE'D NEVER EVER BE ANOTHER DEMOCRAT IN THE WHITE HOUSE? I wish the debates were moderated by some crotchety old lady who would simply slap a candidate each time he/she sidestepped a question or repeated a meaningless soundbite. Or...how about if all the candidates had to have four drinks right before walking onstage? THAT would be interesting.


WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? WHAT DISEASE DO YOU MOST FEAR CONTRACTING? I dunno. But as a child I always wanted to contract malaria, because it seemed to be a disease only suffered by intrepid explorers of weird and wild places.

WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? WHO DO YOU MISS THE LEAST? The reason I don't keep a specific hate list on the blog is because once I start, I don't think I'll ever stop.

WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW MUCH DO YOU HATE SHOPPING FOR NEW CLOTHES (10 BEING SO MUCH YOU'D RATHER CLEAN THE CAT BOX WITH YOUR BARE HANDS). Depends on the clothes. If we're talking about Columbia shirts and park ranger shorts, I enjoy it. If it's "grownup clothes," well, show me the catbox.

WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE BEFORE THE LAST TIME YOU THREW UP? I dunno, but I'd had a bottle of red Gatorade shortly. That I remember.


IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? IF YOU WERE A DOG, WHICH BREED WOULD YOU BE? Hmm...what's like a Rottweiler, but less effective? Some vicious terrier, I'm afraid.


WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU HAD A HUGE FIGHT WITH, WHAT WAS THE FIGHT ABOUT, AND WHO WON? Duh. I'm married. Once you're married, it's just many variations on the same fight, and nobody ever wins.

FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? AS WE ALL KNOW, PRO FOOTBALL IS THE ONLY SPORT WORTH CARING ABOUT. IN LIGHT OF THAT FACT, WHO IS THE BEST NFL QUARTERBACK OF THE LAST 10 YEARS? BEST RUNNING BACK? BEST WIDE RECEIVER? BEST DEFENSIVE PLAYER? BIGGEST PRIMA DONNA? WHINIEST BITCH? I've moved too much in the last ten years to have kept up on football. I prefer baseball, anyway. Football is fine, but it just requires no real...discipline to be a fan.

HAIR COLOR?? BALD MEN ARE VERY SEXY. DISCUSS. It's hard to tell - lots of the bald guys I know probably aren't bald - they're just military guys who shave their heads. I think it runs about 50/50 sexy/goofy.

EYE COLOR? THE INVENTION OF THE PILL IS A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO BELIEVE IN GOD. DISCUSS. Agreed. I'm not entirely sure I'm a big fan of all the hormone-based stuff, but the whole birth control concept is fabulous. Plus, there's a certain type of person that is driven to distraction by the idea of women having sex and enjoying it, and even more insane by the idea that these women are having this sex and NOT having babies. Driving that group of people nuts is also wonderful.

DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? DO YOU HAVE PERFECT VISION? IF SO, RACHEL LUCAS ENVIES YOU WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND GALAXIES. Actually, yeah. I do. 20/20 at every test from childhood til now. But my time is running out. Mom and Dad both ended up with glasses around 40, and I'm pretty sure I'm on the same track.

FAVORITE FOOD? FOOD YOU FIND SO REPUGNANT THAT YOU SIMPLY CANNOT BELIEVE OTHER PEOPLE PUT IT IN THEIR MOUTHS? Those jelly beans that aren't fruit flavors, but spices. There aren't many foods I'll spit out - those I will. Clove-flavored jelly beans? Who the fuck thought that up?

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? WHEN YOU GO TO THE MOVIES AND THE JERK BEHIND YOU KICKS YOUR SEAT CONSTANTLY, DO YOU IGNORE/MOVE OR DO YOU CHALLENGE THEM TO FISTICUFFS? I'm getting a little meaner as I get older. I turn around and scold these days. I jumped out of the truck and gave some young asshole a stern talking-to the other night after he threw a soda cup out the window. This will probably get me shot some day.

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED THAT MADE YOU GET ON YOUR KNEES AFTERWARDS AND BEG GOD TO GIVE YOU THE LAST TWO HOURS OF YOUR LIFE BACK? I dunno. I don't watch a lot of movies, and the ones I do I watch mostly at home. If they suck, I read. I watched that new Pixar one with the rats the other night.

WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? DO YOU EVER PUT CLOTHES ON YOUR PETS? Yep. Just the rat dog. But he has a Hawaiian (sp?) shirt, a Bush/Cheney '04 shirt, and a Vikings jersey.

SUMMER OR WINTER? BEER, WINE, OR LIQUOR? D - all of the above. On the same night if I'm on a roll.

HUGS OR KISSES? FALL ASLEEP OR CUDDLE? Check to make sure the little dog at the foot of the bed didn't get hurt.


WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?HAVE YOU EVER BEEN SO DISGUSTED BY A BOOK'S ENDING THAT YOU VIOLENTLY DESTROYED THE BOOK? Yes, but you know what? I cannot for the life of me remember which book - just the rage.



FAVORITE SOUND? FAVORITE DRUNKEN SLATTERN: PARIS, LINDSEY, OR BRITNEY? I'm not sure if it's brunette solidarity or what, but I find Lindsey's bad behavior much less tiresome than the other two. They seem like career whores, Lindsey seems to be an ass just like any of us would have been at her age with that kind of money and fame.

ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? MOST DESERVING OF CHUCK-NORRIS-STYLE ROUNDHOUSE KICK TO THE THROAT: AL GORE OR JESSE JACKSON? You know, I kinda like Al Gore, to be honest. He's like that neighbor who goes on and on about the paperboy throwing his paper in the bushes. And Jesse Jackson? Well, he read Green Eggs and Ham once on Saturday Night Live, thus redeeming himself for all eternity. It was that good. I want to kick Wolf Blitzer in the teeth, though.


DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? IF YOU COULD HAVE MAD SKILLZ IN DANCING OR IN SINGING, WHICH WOULD YOU CHOOSE AND WOULD IT BE FOR YOUR OWN PERSONAL SATISFACTION OR TO IMPRESS OTHER PEOPLE AND POSSIBLY GET SOME ACTION? I think it would be a hoot to be able to dance well. I can't even dance badly, and really, it's not something that seems learnable. But I wish I could.

WHERE WERE YOU BORN?? IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPERPOWER, WHICH WOULD YOU CHOOSE AND WOULD YOU USE IT FOR GOOD OR EVIL? I'm dull beyond belief. I just wanna be able to fly. I don't have much of a capacity for evil, but I'd probably use my power mostly to entertain myself.

WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? IF YOU NEVER SEE ANOTHER Q&A MEME AGAIN, WILL IT BE TOO SOON? Yes, it will. But this gave me something to do this evening beyond just fondling my guns and smoking in the garage.

Wow - that was a couple hours of my life. I think this will be the last time I do that whole line-through-text thing. But if I'd had to dream up a topic on my own, I think it would have been hateful.

04 July 2007


We were sitting down with our grilled meat this evening when we heard fireworks. I glanced up and out the front door. Hey - they were right there!

So the Bad Dog Family took our plates out the front door, sat on the front lawn and enjoyed a fabulous view of the fireworks over Fort Worth. Can't beat a deal like that.

03 July 2007


We were having a Normal Rockwell interlude a little while ago. I was frosting a cake while my stepdaughter hovered. One of the boys was washing dishes and the other was on the couch with his portable video game thing.

Mr. Abby picked up the puppy's Tire Bite toy and a spirited game of "take the tire from the person" ensued. For two or three minutes, Mr. Abby and Jack alternately chased each other around the couch, laughing and barking.

I looked up and saw the son on the couch with the video game while his Dad played chase with the puppy in a circle around him. And I thought, C'mon boy - put down the game and play with your Dad and the puppy.

Of course, that's not how it works. Dad (or the puppy) wore out and moved on to more important things, and the game player never even looked up.

02 July 2007

Car bombs in Britain

Although my TV has been almost entirely taken over by short people watching fucked-up Japanese cartoons, I am aware that savages have been trying their luck with car bombs in Great Britain. It appears that the madness has spread to Brisbane, where the Forces of Good just snatched up another plotting fucker.

The Official Bad Dog Position on car bombs is, not surprisingly, one of disapproval. But see, it's real strong disapproval.

I saw one of these once. About 20 yards to my immediate right. And although it winged a couple of my guys, it killed a fucking truckload of civilians.

Civilians are not targets. They are not targets. Not targets, not targets, not targets.

The days are long behind the Western Powers when we thought that killing the shit out of non-combatants was a good and honorable strategy. However, for our enemies, killing civilians is the cat's ass. It's the thing to do.

I always thought that was wrong. I always disapproved of the targeting of civilians in a detached, conceptual way. Ain't right, y'know?

But then I saw it, and now it turns my stomach. The fact of the thing is vile. But the implication are worse. Because that sort of violence does bad things to a society.

Parents don't drop kids off at the county fair with a $20 bills and a pick-up time in places where savages drive explosive-packed cars into crowds of children. And you don't have "sidewalk sales" in towns where the sidewalks are killing fields. You don't stand and chat with friends in front of the grocery store when doing so makes you a target. There are no high school football games, no teenagers clustered at the local Dairy Queen in that sort of society.

You live with fear in that kind of society, where that random death can intrude anywhere. Americans do not now live with a lot of fear - nothing like the fear that's out there when this sort of thing shows up.

These suicide bomb attacks - they're like mini 9/11s. The same things are horrifying - why those victims? Why this morning? Why that building? And after a while, it ceases to shock, and it's just another horrifying part of life.

But I tell you what, the idea of that mindset coming here is hard to stomach. Which kid do you send to the grocery store? The post office? Is an earache worth going to the hospital?

I don't want it here. I don't want that thought process in my wonderful country. But it's close. Britain is close. Australia is close.

It's a war, folks. Said it before, and I'm saying it again. We take it to them to keep them from bringing it to us.

And I'd do anything to keep that from coming here.

Tales from the office

I work at a company that sells things. The kinds of things I like. Mostly, I spend my day fixing the royally fucked-up situations that crop up in every sort of sales. However, the last hour or so of the day I occasionally hop on the phone and take inbound calls (we don't make outbound sales calls).

I took one this evening.

"ACME distributing, this is Abby. How can I help you tonight?"

After a little discussion, we established that Mr. Guy was a return customer, and wanted to place an order. As I waited for the Evil DOS-based sales system to pull up the "new order" screen, I made a little small talk, since Mr. Guy seemed friendly.

"How's the world treating you tonight?"

"Oh, it's alright, considering I have a daughter I don't ever see," he sighed.

"Oh. Gracious. That's too bad, sir." You know, the idea behind small talk is that it's not supposed to be anything soul-baring.

"Yeah. I've never seen her. She lives in Texas."

"Oh, my. Can I get your first item number?"

"Yeah, I'll take #123XYZ. You know the singer Jewel?"

"Ummm..yes, sir. One of those #123XYZ's?"

"Yeah. One each. And two ABC789's. I'm Jewel's biological father. I tried to go see her once when she was a baby, and I ended up in a straitjacket. That was the year I dropped out of high school."

I'm not sure how I managed to finish that one, but I did. 'Cause even crazy people deserve to order our shit, I guess.

Oh, yes. This job is so on borrowed time.

Finally! A use for children!

If I haven't at any point spelled it out, y'all have probably figured that I'm not the world's biggest fan of kids. I didn't even like being a kid, fer goddsake. My stepchildren are good kids, but they're still kids, and it confuses me.

I do believe in making children do things, and making them do them right. This is, of course, annoying, because it is the natural inclination of children to do shockingly substandard work in order to more quickly get back to the important things in life - namely, drinking all the soda in the house and staring at cartoons on my TV.

So the best way to employ children is in what I think of as "Yoda tasks." You know (and I parahrase) - "do or do not. There is no try."

Found one the other night. Came into house with box, grabbed Precise Boy.

"Hey, kid. Wanna make five bucks?"


"Okay. Pay attention, because I'm only demonstrating once. This is what we call a stripper clip....the ones with green tips go in this box, the other ones go in this box. Got it?"

250 or 300 rounds later, I think he has it down. Good. I need to rebuild my stockpile.

The funny part, of course, was when he knew he had a job opportunity on his hands, and I took him into the Armory.

"You want me to clean your guns?"

"I don't think so, child."