The Project is begun.

I have made repeated jokes, time and time again about the Tactical Axe Handle. It shall come to pass. There are plans in the works to create the pinnacle of tactical axe handle technology. I hope that someone else gets a laugh out of it too.

I thought I was done for the day.

I really did think that I had it wrapped up for the day but I can't pass this up. I am adding another link titled "We are America." I am humbled having read what I read.

Finally, some sense.

I ran into this and had to pass it along. http://youtube.com/watch?v=X9cDbA8O9-c


I ran into this as I read all the foolishness over the Hell Kitten Rifle. I think the video is pretty good. Super heros with little or no sense will say that the guy is full of it and that full auto conversions are easy. Then tell me why, pray tell, does the California guy testify, TESTIFY under oath that they had not seized a single converted rifle. Apparently it's too difficult for the average criminal to convert them. Perhaps criminals should hire internet dwelling super heros with no real range time to convert the rifles. Of course they would have to put the playstation paddle down and actually handle a gun. I bet the kid with the super secret Tactical .308 with rails that shoots eight miles and around corners could do it. Hell, he has enough bullshit to choke Cthulhu.

Of course I have, in my possession a fully automatic, ultra long range, Tactical Axe Handle. When I get it back from the HandleSmith I'll have to post some pics. If it doesn't get banned because it's Tactical.

I thought I'd throw this last on just because.

The CPR.

This made me giggle. There, I said it, I giggled. I think this is awesome! Check it out. I put it on my links list under Hell Kitten. I couldn't believe all the crap the guy who posted the pics is getting. And, it's all just that: crap.

Waiting sucks.

Yeah, I get to wait. For two more months at least. But when it arrives, the rifle will have been built for me. I love almost every thing I read about the .243 caliber and this waiting is getting to me. but there is nothing on the shelf here that I want more. So I wait. When waiting is done. 'Yotes will die.

I was warned, I was warned...

Ya know, next time someone tells you not to read or watch something, follow that advice. They probably know, better than you what's up. See, I made the mistake of renting the Golden Compass movie. Yeah, I know, it preaches atheism. Well, A polar bear, in armor, had to see that. Had to. And yes, every thing I was told has come to pass. I now believe in nothing. There is nothing out there. Having now had my mind and heart reprogramed by a hollywood movie, I think I'll go buy some carbon offsets and wear sandals while I talk about how much smarter I am than everyone who hasn't seen the movie. So, did I have ya going for a second there? Didn't think so. I watched the movie, and got a kick out of it. I liked the C S Lewis flick better, because, well, it was better written. Some will line up to argue with me about that, but time and time again, you get what you pay for here. In other news, I watched a flick about Churchill. I think he had the last set of testicles to be seen in the UK until Tony Blair. But then, the brits lopped Blair's off. I liked the way that Churchill spoke his mind. He was told repeatedly to shut up. He was told that Hitler didn't really plan on going to war. I like the motto that the film attributed to Churchill. K.B.O. Keep buggering on. Weather or not he actually said that is irrelevant to me, it made me laugh while watching the flick. Other stuff I've seen recently... Watched a few episodes of Firefly. That's always good. In spite of all the things I am supposedly missing, I am still glad I don't have TV.

some things are a whole lot cooler in person

So, I have been thinking a lot about how things shake out here in electric land. You can read opinions from millions of people who will carry on a fight, endlessly over a freaking opinion. Aint that silly? All that time wasted on something withno more weight than a point of view. So I then turned a critical eye on my own posting here... And, well, yeah, I get a little excited some times, but you know what, I am usually laughing my ass off when I write what a few of my local readers call "fits of rage." See, that is the seduction of the internet. You can read me and get a vibe about all this acid and anger bubbling up. Dumb ass, you don't know me. I get a kick out of that kind of crap. those who know me out here in the real world, folks I talk to get the real me. I look at it a lot like reading a history book about WW2 talking about the M1 Garand, maybe watching some war movies and looking at pictures on the old internet here. Versus actually going out and shooting one. Hearing the ping when the clip ejects can give you all sorts of feelings, if you stop and think about it. Hefting the rifle, loading it and shooting it makes any amount of closeted research rather insignificant. You can read anything, it is far different and more life changing to actually do it. In the same way, you can have your perceptions changed just by actually talking to people that you normally wouldn't. Anyone can sit back and say, I'd get along with so-and-so, except for them being a complete dumb-ass. It's like saying "I don't like cops." Really? You need to meet more people before you make that judgment call. I used to be nervous about law enforcement types. Then I went and signed up for a concealed carry class. Before the class even started I talked to eight different officers who told me that they wanted more citizens armed on a daily basis. I was shocked. Mostly I wanted to have the permit so I could have a pistol in the car when I travel. Growing up where I did I saw a lot of people hit deer and then stand around bemoaning the damage to their vehicle while the animal lay twitching and suffering in the road. I have also watched my old man put such animals down and get them off the road. A pistol is a handy thing to have every day. I got asked by a coworker, back when I was installing windshields, why I wanted to carry a gun, did I want to kill someone? The answer is a simple one that just takes a little thought and intelligence. Let me ask a similar question. Do you have a jack and spare tire in your vehicle? What? Do you want a flat?! Now, because some folk have to have things spelled out so I don't get taken out of context. If I had to have a permit to take a jack with me in the car, guess what. I'd have a jack permit. I don't want to kill anyone, anymore than you want a flat tire on the side of the interstate in the rain. But, after all the encouragement I got from local, county and state level law enforcement, well, I take a gun with me. I don't want to kill and it will destroy me after the fact. But again, guess what. I will be there, alive and whole, to be emotionally destroyed. My family will be OK to. I have tools that I hope I never have to use for the purpose they were intended. But I will shoot IDPA and I will be competent and capable should that need ever arise. I guess I must be a bad guy when I value my life and property more than a druggie's habit.

Time does such crude things to us

Or maybe it is our own bull headed stupidity. I have worked hard most all my life. I guess I didn't know another way. Like I have said before, my education is far from complete. So here I sit, having recently had X-rays of my lower back. Kinda sucks when you do half a days labor framing a house with friends and the next day you can't really stand all the way up. When did I get old? Hell, I'm only thirty. Coy, one of my co-workers, and probably the most affable Democrat I've ever met, laughs at me when I tell him how old I feel. I know I deserve it. He has a huge amount of life experience on me. But I keep thinking of a bit from a Chris Ledoux song: "It aint the years boys, its the miles." I have worked hard and dumb for, well, most all the time I did menial labor. I can honestly blame it on the stubborn genetics that I inherited from both sides of the family. That's just passing the buck though. I guess I am a little stupid, I still can't look myself in the eye when I brush my teeth at night if I haven't done something useful.

As a minor side note. I have been thinking about attitude, a lot. Mine needs work. I figure if I lay off the caffeine, I can calm down a bit. If I calm down, maybe I can focus more. If I focus more, maybe I can get shit sorted and have a better day. I know tons of folks who either swear by caffeine or swear at it. I do both. I don't like feeling needy. I guess I get a lot of piss and vinegar mixed up in other stuff when the stress is right there in front of me. I have tried and tried but I can't quit worrying about my wife. Shannon, I know you will read this and I don't want you to freak out or feel guilty. Back on track now. I worry and stress because I can't fix this. I can't help make it a good day for her when it's bad. men in my family are grade A fixers. Got a problem you want fixed, ask one of the Thompson boys. When my great something or other grand dad homesteaded out here, the community used to say where there's Will, there's a way. I think it fits with the stubborn gene. Honestly, I don't understand the feelings aspect, I just want to fix. I am starting to understand a whole new definition of frustration. I have to be on the sidelines for this. I can't take the MS. I can't fix it. I have to try to understand and I feel a lot like a wolf that, for some reason, needs to learn how to breathe underwater. I don't have any idea how to do it, but God willing, the patience and understanding will come. Hopefully I don't drive Shannon bat shit while I'm learning.

One of those perfect moments...

I was standing at the gun counter today, doing the usual thing: Getting paid to talk guns, handle guns, and in general shoot the shit about any and every thing that comes up. I have the best job in the world for me. I was talking to a guy about AR type stuff, and talking about how the .223 performs. Any way, it was a bunch of talking about guns. I realized later that I had spent about forty five minutes talking to the guy, about stuff. Then he decided to take home a S&W AR 15. Yeah, every time I send out a rifle that makes the socialists a little more scared, it makes my day. Then, later I got to explain to a guy that a .50 rifle is just a rifle. Admittedly it is one big damn rifle, but still, its just a rifle. He was a little miffed that I told him he was wrong right there in front of all his kids. But know-it-all shit heads bother me. I love having a chance to refute them and, well, I like borrowing one of Ogre's phrases "See, that may be the way it is in the state you're from, but we live in a free state." Yeah, I kept telling the guy that. Eventually he wandered off, his offspring disillusioned as to the irrefutability of their father. It's petty, it's mean, and I'll be damned if I didn't enjoy every minute of it. Yeah, I freeking Love My Job. I wouldn't trade you for any amount of money. Unless you give me guns and ammo, and then pay me to shoot shit with them... Never mind, I did that yesterday. Yup, I am one happy, spiteful, mean-spirited little gun counter clerk.

Yeah, what Bush said...

"Some seem to believe we should negotiate with terrorists and radicals, as if some ingenious argument will persuade them they have been wrong all along," the President said to the country's legislative body, "We have heard this foolish delusion before. As Nazi tanks crossed into Poland in 1939, an American senator declared: 'Lord, if only I could have talked to Hitler, all of this might have been avoided.' We have an obligation to call this what it is –- the false comfort of appeasement, which has been repeatedly discredited by history." -George W Bush-

As President Bush says this to Israel, Obama, in a sad attempt to keep his name in the news as much as possible, decided to act like this was a political attack. What a bucket.

{Later in the day} Interesting, it seems that all the socialists are feeling like the President was criticizing them. Hildmarra Clinton tossed her two bits in, as well as a few others on that side. Who cares about their tender little feel-bads? The truth is true, no matter who says it, no matter who they say it in front of. You can't negotiate with these nutty fundamentalist types. They understand negotiation like a criminal alien understands English. You will get a smile and a nod. They might even say yes. But when you turn around, they are back doing exactly the same shit that they were doing before you sat down and talked to them. Fucking Socialist Buckets.

Canadian visitors go home

I am about as pissed off at all the political shit going down right now as any one else, except for the libs. They are sixteen colors of unstable when it comes to not getting their own way. If you can justify theft from others and privation as for the greater good while not actually sacrificing anything your self... Well, you fit right in with the current batch of rabid leftists. But enough of that. Such talk gets me all wound up and depressed. I feel depressed because there are people who seem to be intelligent folk that abandon logic and sense to gentle their feel-bads. Never mind actually giving or serving, lets make other people do it. Bull shit. Satan, the guy who wanted to take choice out of the equation entirely touted a lot of the same propaganda. I actually heard a canuck stand at the gun counter and tell one of my coworkers that "Americans have too many guns and they shouldn't be allowed to have as many as they do." I can only think of one answer and it is a good thing that Mike had the silly maple and not me. So, here is my response. It goes out to anyone that thinks that we have too many guns. GO HOME! Who the fuck invited you into the land of the free anyway? You from America and think that gun owners have too many guns? Join the poor bastards with the superiority complex to the north. Get the hell out. I have a Constitutional Right to KEEP and BEAR arms. Look up the word keep in the dictionary and then look up bear. Keep, have, own, posses. bear, carry, tote, pack, to roll with in the vernacular. Not only do I have the right to own as many as I want, I get to carry them, and use them. To the nitwit that had the temerity to stand across the counter in an American gun store and brag on canuk shooters and then say that Americans have too many guns: You want to prove that maples are better shooters than Americans? You grab the .22 that you get to own, I'll buy a Barrett and we'll start a mile away from each other. You get to shoot first, then I go. We'll see who the better shot is. Regular American versus Regular Canuk. I win, we burry you in a stable. You win, I'll slap a band aide on it, walk it off and beat you to death with an axe-handle. I post this with no offense intended to my pal Adam, he's from Canadia and loves guns more than I do. That may be why he lives here rather than there.

I ain't dead yet.

I'm still here. Still breathing, maybe a little easier lately. I finally broke down and went to the doctor and told him I have breathing problems. Yeah, bout time. I can hear those that have watched me turn colors say. I've bummed inhalers from folks and sworn off a dozen things and cursed the smoking I did in high school but I couldn't bring myself to go and make lung problems a formal thing. It ain't easy to admit that your mortal. I never have been the immortal type, just hard headed. If I had to compare myself to any character in any book I guess I'd like to think of myself as a version of Sturm Brighblade. I try to live up to oaths I've taken in my heart and don't quite make it most of the time. Aint that the shits? I've got way behind this semester because I've been worried about Shannon. Well, it isn't wrong for me to worry about her, but to get so involved in someone else's struggle and pay so little attention to my own... Well, that don't make much in the way of sense. It's like telling yourself that you have to control and be involved in someone else's life so that you don't have to live yours. Sad. Actually, it is depressing. Yup, you heard it here first. Depressing. I keep telling Shannon that regardless of what happens, she has to live her life, I can't live it for her. Likewise, She can't make me happy or righteous or get me forgiven of my sins. My shit is mine to bear or bare, as I choose. I learned a long time ago that you have to sort your own issues out. The hardest part of that is forgiving yourself for the stupid shit you did. I talked to my mission president about some things that I had done and been carrying for years after I changed my ways. I was clean and forgiven but I wouldn't drop this shit because I was too afraid to deal with it. As I sat there looking at president Orton, I was thinking "OK, it's out, now is where he tells you your broken. All fucked up with no hope and here's your ticket home." He smiled and told me that the easy part was over, I had changed my life and left those things behind. The hard part, he said, was forgiving myself. He was right, in so many ways. I worked at forgiving myself for the rest of the mission. By the time I came home I had gone from being an uptight ass hole with everyone else in mind to a guy looking to do the best he could with his own life. I don't know how else to say it. There is some dark, evil shit in my past. Really dark. Really evil. But I have worked hard to forgive myself because I know that God has. So, this week, let's work on step one. Let Shit Go. next week is Letting Folks Live Their Own Lives Week

Life Happens

When I started this new blog and nuked my old one, I had every intention of creating a place where I would only talk about all the politically incorrect things that trickle through my mind. I was going to have this great focus and keep it sarcastic. Well, Life happens. So I now have a blog that gives me a place to talk about and reason my way through life. Not so much testosterone-laden gun and bike talk. The past few weeks have been tough. I did get my bike running and have ridden to work several times. It is damn cold early in the morning. But the bitter wind is a small price to pay for the ride. I guess that could also reflect an attitude about life as well. To explain better, let me rewind several months. Shannon and I both had the feeling that it was all too good to be true. We both seemed to walk around, doing the things we needed to do but waiting. We have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have heard a few different stories about where the phrase 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' came from. That doesn't matter. The existence of a phrase that deals with waiting because you know there is something else coming doesn't surprise me at all. What gets me is the way that the phrase also relates to another little phrase that I like: 'waiting for the punch-line.' I guess that to most people the two sayings have little in common other than waiting. To me, the punch-line is the other shoe, the nasty surprise. Not always, but far more than is usual. I guess that you can look at life like a drawn out joke with a convoluted twist in the middle. And then you wait for the punch-line. The summation of the experience, bottled up in a bite-size moral that you can reflect on. Lately, I see the punch-line as 'Fuck you.' I guess the thing we have to remember is to grin back at life, smile and say: "No. Fuck you.