Eaters of the Dead

Read Eaters of the Dead yesterday. Rocks. Ya' gotta love the whole take on females that the Vikings had.

It wasn't so terrible that the neandrathals ate their fallen foes, but (gasp!) they fed them to their WOMEN!

Where will the tsunami money end up?

In the hands of terrorists we have been trying to starve for funds. We will end up footing the bill for the next attack on US citizens by the simple mechanism of inflating death toll numbers and the media's 'Big Story' frenzy.

How damn stupid do you have to be after the Israeli's were turned away? I guess I should take solace in the fact that GW isn't letting the UN finger our money before the ragheads get it? I must give the old boy credit, though, since the usual eurosnots are decidedly miffed about his UN end run.

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State of Fear

Just thought I'd put in a plug for Crichton's new book 'State of Fear'.

If you have folks around that are of the tree-hugging variety though not yet dogmatic you might encourage this read. As usual the science is well researched and presented with footnotes and references.

Oh, it's a pretty fun read, too.

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Not very Christmas-like, but.....

A woman was out hunting a Christmas present for her husband this year and was having trouble finding something he didn't already own. You see, the fella is a big 'BB King' fan and has already scoured the planet in search of memorabilia and such. She searched all the usual places, even flea markets, junk stores, trying to find something that would please him. Finally she gave up.

On the way home she passed a tattoo parlor and thought, 'What the heck, maybe I'll get an idea.'. Once inside she asked the artist to tatoo a 'B' on her left butt cheek and a 'B' on her right butt cheek.

She drove home very excited, because she knew her husband really thinks she has a fine figure and this would please him immensely. Once in the house she told him he was really going to enjoy this years Christmas present! He said, 'Well, let me have it then!'. She beckoned him to follow her to the bedroom and told him she would show it to him.

Once they were in the bedroom she dropped her drawers and bent over presenting to him her monogrammed, shapely behind. 'Well, what do you think?' she asked.

'That's nice, Honey, but who is "BoB"?

Merry Christmas Y'all!

Will be off for a few days. Maybe. Be safe traveling and don't take any wooden nickels.

Jim

I got a woody!

Kahr just released its new 1911 in .45ACP !

You may drool.


I called all over the country trying to find TWO of 'em.

For those who don't know; Kahr Arms makes a serious pistol the fit, finish, and function of which approaches high end custom firearms and in some cases exceeds them. The triggers are similar to the ParaOrdnance LDA's and they are all 'carry' guns, meaning they are for concealed carry. In my mind they are the perfect company to build John Browning's masterpiece. Now if I can just find and lock down a pair of low sequential serial numbered examples.....

It's not the size of the horse.

The Bluegrass Farrier's Association holds a get together every year at the Kentucky Horsepark during the High Hope Steeplechase. At this years event we were all putting $1.00 in a hat and drawing out a number for a horse in each heat.
I let my daughters alternate drawing numbers and my eldest drew a fine long legged black on a particular race and a buddy of mine drew the #10 horse which couldn't have been 15 hands. It was a light bay and looked like a Hackney Pony out there with those monsters.
This heat of the High Hope is three miles over jumps. Think about that. That's quite a bit farther than your typical race. Each lap was one mile and we were standing just before the start/finish line. They had a walkup start and the big horses pulled away immediately. I poked fun at my friend who drew the diminutive little stallion. Not a chance for him.
Two miles later and the little guy was still chugging along third from last in a ten horse race. They went over a hill going away from us and were out of sight for about a half mile. When they reappeared the little fella was making a BIG move. By the time they reached the last jump, dead in front of us, he kicked in the afterburners and made mules of 'em. Won going away.

I am still amazed at the performance. Running that far with bigger horses; think how many more strides he had to take and how much faster his little feet had to move. Every horse out there was a descendant of derby winners and some of triple crown horses. Put that horses heart in the chest of one of those monsters and you'd have another Man-O-War.

The other side of horses.

I am a farrier.

For those of you who don't know, that is a fancy word for a blacksmith who shoes horses. I live and work near Lexington, Kentucky so I interact with a lot of horses, horsemen, and horsewomen on a regular basis. There has come up in the comments here some discussion of breeds and I have a couple things to address with respect to these comments, but first for those who haven't been here:

The Bluegrass:

I don't care where you live, what kind of horses your area is famous for, or how many cowboys live there. You ain't seen nothin' like Lexington and surrounds when it comes to horses. When I write 'horse farm' here, what comes to mind? Fifty acres and a mudhole with 30 dirty horses wandering around? 150 acres with a riding arena and a stable you could see yourself spending the night in? How about 3500 acres with seven 'barns' full of one family's hobby Morgan horses, each 'barn' has three guys fulltime to clean it, two fulltime trainers, and a fulltime manager. The walkway in the stud barn is brick paved. Now, when I write 'barn' to have to understand I don't mean what a cow lives in. Think shopping mall with stalls instead of boutiques, but with nicer bathrooms.
Impressive? That's a small farm for a breed nobody cares about. The entire area is lined with white four board fences, slave fences (fences of rocks fitted and stacked together in a manner requiring no mortar) and barns that look like mansions. There is even an honest to goodness no-shit castle.

Enough of that.

Draft horses; mess with them at your peril. I was helping a friend of mine, who goes 220lbs easily, shoe a percheron when a fly landed on its side. The horse used the farrier for a flyswat. The horse lifted him up (we hold the hoof between our knees), slapped him up against its belly, shook him loose onto the ground, and stepped on him. He survived, but was a might sore for a few days. How hard did the horse step on him? Hard enough to mash the fancy engraved silver lid on his copenhagen. Bear in mind the horse wasn't being belligerent; it is just so strong that it forgot and didn't notice it had a 220lb man attached to its leg. I won't shoe a draft horse for less than $100.00 per foot. Luckily, that scares most folks away.

Friesian's. Spacebunny, all women want Friesians. I can't imagine why except to look at 'em. Don't you get enough work on a hairbrush with your daughters? The tangles must be horrendous. And that long hair around their hooves - massive dingleberries!

Demon Spawn

I have two daughters. The only thing they have in common is that they wear cowGIRL boots with pointed toes and love their horses. Completely different in outlook, personality, and disposition. The little one, Isabella (7) is the firebreather. I just never know what she's gonna do!

We have a young 70lb. dog that likes to try and push Isabella around (35lbs.). I look up the other day and she's puttin' her boots to the dog. Walks on like nothing happened.

A little girl in her Sunday school class asked, "Will you play with me?".
Isabella says, "If Igive you a quarter will you leave me alone?".

We have been trying to get my oldest daughter to pay attention to her manners. She is 11 and we have been trying to get her to start sitting like a lady. We had been working on reminding her at every opportunity for a week or so when I walked by Isabella lounging in my recliner.
Hey, Dad!", she says while hoisting one leg up over her head, "Not very lady-like is it?!" Laughed herself silly.


I killed a beautiful young doe a couple years back. The girls insisted on seeing it. I was thinkin' well they damn sure won't eat any venison after seeing this pitiful innocent lookin' critter bad ol' Daddy shot. I opened the back of my wagoneer (yep - wood on the sides!) and they felt its fur and walked back in the house. No big deal. They loved the meat that winter. When it was gone the following summer Isabella says, "Dad, do you remember that girl deer you killed last winter?"
Fearing the worst, I said,"Yes Isabella. Why?"
Isabella - "Will you kill another one so we can eat it?"

Ya' see what I'm up against?

For the Woman who has Everything.....

Just in time for Christmas fellas!

Clone-a-Willy !

Har(d)ley Men

I recently sold a dual-sport motorcycle (Blue Yonder) to a 62 year old gentleman from Hendersonville, TN. We got to talking about riding during the course of making the transaction and he mentioned he 'now' has four motorcycles. And I thought I was bad about accumulating toys.

Anyhow, we get to talking about the riding spots we have in common and decided to try to get together when one or the other's riding group was passing near one of our homes. The old guy rides primarily an FJR1300 (this is a GrandSport Touring bike - that means it will run 130mph all day with grace and no apparent effort) so I warned him that the guys I ride with (the aliens) ride cruisers and I didn't want him to be bored. He said he sometimes rides w/ cruisers also and doesn't mind pokin' around some. This turned the discussion toward the Har(d)ley brand of motorcycle.

My thinking on these bikes is that it is the two wheeled equivalent of Ford Motor Company still producing shiny new Model 'A's and charging exhorbitant prices for them. His observation was this:

'I feel sorry for those guys when I see them on the road. You know they can't be comfortable; most Har(d)ley riders I talk to just don't know any better. They haven't ever ridden anything else.'

That about says it all.

When it is OK to lie

This only applies to those for whom self examination includes self judgment. Neither navel gazers nor women need be concerned with such.

Never tell a lie when you have a reasonable expectation that someone will really believe it and/or act on it. Got it?

Now, my favorite way of lieing is also my favorite way of telling the truth.

Example:

A friend or relative does something I consider open to ridicule; perhaps for their own good, or perhaps just for the potential entertainment value to you both. Let's say I find rap 'music' on his MP3 player. What's that one?... I think it's 'nelly' or some such. Anyway, being a friend or relative implies it's someone I care about so I can't just slam the fella and leave him no way to defend himself if the story gets out to those who just want to throw darts his way and indulge in serious public ridicule. So I mix enough falsehood into the tale to let the fella know I have his valuable parts in a vise, but I am such a nice fella I won't turn the screw. This has the wonderful effect of making him grateful for the small amount of humiliation he is undergoing at my hands.

I would wait until we were at a family gathering, or among folks whose opinion he cares about (this is a VERY small group for your average redneck) and say, ' BillyBob, man I sure appreciate you lettin' me take your MP3 player on that trip last week. By the way, how long have you been listening to "M&M"?'

Among likeminded folks this is tantamount to throwing blood in the water for sharks, a feeding frenzy will occur and a large time will be had by all, including the victim. Because he has a way out.

You see, I was kind enough to lie about the truth of his transgression.

Billybob can honestly claim there was no "M&M" on his MP3 player with all the feigned injury and moral outrage which is the privilege of the falsely accused. All the while Billybob knows I let him off the hook, since he now knows that I know he is a closet 'rapper' ('Rapper' to a redneck is the moral equivalent of that monkey you see playing with himself everytime you go to the zoo), a fact I would hold over his head 'til his dyeing day.

I have heard folks refer to the above example as an 'artful' lie and I have no problem with that description. Just so long as the lie is not something you expect someone to really believe...

It's been downhill from here......

JACIII WellDigger Nate

Just so you know, this is how it starts. Wimpy little geek bikes - not much more than scooters - dark sunglasses, leather jackets, and a willingness to waste large amounts of time rippin' around on Tennessee's two lanes no matter what the wife says.

- Where ya' goin' ?
- Don't know.
- Well, when are you gonna be back ?
- Don't know.
- Are we going out to Demo's (fine Greek resturant in Murfreesboro, TN) ?
- If we get back in time.
- When's that?
- Don't know.
- We're supposed to go to Brook's to play pictionary tonight!
- (Insert bellylaughs from Nate's big brothers here.)

Now, that's for an afternoon ride, think what the conversation was like for a week out west at Felony Velocity.

To be fair the womenfolk have been remarkably tolerant of this sort of behavior, as womenfolk go. Or we'd be single by now !

The OTHER Big Red

Some of you fellas out there probably goin' around sportin' those green caps with that yellow deer on 'em. "Nothing runs like a Deere", eh?

Came across an article on the values of used tractors - IH appreciates, JD depreciates.

'Nuff said.

Yuck

Is the weather shitty or what?! I don't know what's goin' on in your neck of the woods, but the monsoon season has set in herabouts. If it's warm (relatively, that is) it's rainin'. The yard is squishy, the gravel in the driveway is sinkin' into the mud, and the horses have churned a formerly green and lush pasture into a muddy moonscape. It's downhill from here. Makes me almost hope for a freeze so I can quit trackin' mud into the house.

I need to move to Florida where it rains damn near every day but you can't tell it ever happened 30 minutes later. Anybody in south Florida need a horseshoer?

From Al on the 'Poodle Shooter' :

"That is why I do not like the .223 it did not kill enough of the enemy, who had nothing but contempt for anything shooting them. Give our people a weapon that is superior is my point. I was sort of hit by a sniper in bad guy country. He got frustrated that I did not give him a good shot and managed to hit my butt pack and kill my lunch. A C-Rat. can of spagetti and mystery meat. Pieces of the can embedded themselves in my right buttock and I can tell you tomato sauce sure stings. I qualified for most embarassing purple target award in Laos and only Kerry had me beat in SEA because his was self inflicted. Although my staff sergeant did come close when he got most of his butt blown off by an RPG on the banks of the Mekong River. They just do not make bandages big enough for that but we got a poncho to fit and I was amazed when I got back stateside and I found out he had survived."

Thanks for your service, Al, and the insight. A lighter, more compact M-14 was certainly doable back then. The stuff Springfield is making now isn't so much high tech as it is simply updated from WWII materials and methods.The M-16 was most certainly a political decision, and the bean counters in the pentagon were focused on 'numbers' (weight, capacity, etc.) instead of practical application and war worthiness. Plus, it was a 'new way' (high velocity - low mass) which always feeds the egos of the next generation believing everyone before them was a little less sharp.

As we look back on this fiasco, and it's attendant switch to 9mm handguns we can see the lesson is learned, but I will bet the farm it will not be applied to future equipment issued to our men in harm's way.

Theory of the Rifle

The Rifle: Winchester Model 70, a real one, of walnut in .270, with B.O.S.S.

This comes up due to our discussion of the mini-14. You see the fine weapon above has a medium 'sporter' barrel and is subject to barrel 'whip' as is the mini-14. The major differences between the two are the diameter of the barrel, the quality of the barrel and action (I know smartass - one's a semi and the other bolt), and attention in design to the requirements of precision shooting.

Now, none of the above requires explanation except the part about attention in design to the requirements of precision shooting.

'Whatever do you mean by that JACIII?', you ask.

Pay attention, Grasshopper:

Whenever a cartridge is discharged in a chamber and a bullet is propelled down the tube a wave is propagated along the length of the barrel. When you read Gregg refer to 'tuning' a gun, whether he knows it or not, he was referring to the process through trial and error of finding a combination of powder charge (acceleration) and bullet weight (mass) that relate to the wave propagated by same charge and bullet consistently at bullet exit. This is no small task and requires much knowledge, skill (both at the shooting bench and the reloading bench), patience, and attention to detail.

While most rifles are 'tunable' with good results, some are not. I consider 'good results' one minute of angle or a roughly one inch group at 100 yds.

Now, that's not really good enough. When you read Nate, Welldigger, or
myself post about a shot group we are referring to the absolute diameter of the
group of holes, center to center, in a target. This is not the common
standard reference which is more like a standard deviation measurement.
Good enough is under one half inch at 100 yds and 'one 0.270
inch hole' is what we are after.

Comparing the two guns mentioned above we see Gregg 'tuned' his mini-14 to two inches through meticulous trial and error and experimentation (A gun magazine would have within one inch of the center of a shot group; that's 2 inches in my book) whereas the Model 70 can be 'tuned' to 0.350 inches (that's 0.1750 inches in a gun magazine) by the simple artifice of turning a weighted suppressor with a micrometer thread, barrel, lock, and index marks to the listed value in the owners manual for the desired bullet weight. Granted the manual's value was the starting point, but it wasn't far off my final setting.

These two guns are in the same expense class (below $750).

Do you now see, Grasshopper, why the Mini-14 is a piece of shit?

note: Data for above Model 70 was with refired cases, H4831SC powder, and a 130gr Sierra HPBT running at 3600+fps in a molycoated barrel with no signs of overpressure. DO NOT TRY THIS YOURSELF. DEATH OR INJURY MAY RESULT.

Biscuitboy Gets an Upgrade

Now, Y'all know BiscuitBoy from previous posts. The hot chick in the photo next to him is his wife. Go figure. Anyway, I was talkin' to him tonight and I mentioned that I was going to cut the wife out and paste a big booby blonde bikini babe in her place. Being the ever loyal and devoted husband he is he vetoed the idea and suggested I just 'fix' (his word not mine. She's a hottie, but about the meanest critter I've ever come across) the wife he has for him.

A little work from Picture Publisher some swelling in the appropriate places and BiscuitBoy has an Upgraded Wife!

Just doing my part to promote Marital Bliss!

The Mini-14

This firearm came up on Bane's Blog. The uninformed were toutin' this useless piece of shit, as I have seen some magazines do, as a useful weapon. This leads me to think those commenting have no actual experience with one. My experience with one created an overpowering urge to destroy it lest it multiply. The run of the mill mini-14 is not capable of accuracy comparable to a typical snub revolver. I know that seems counter-intuitive, since barrel length would appear to affect accuracy, but it is simply unable to precisely place bullets. Note the use of the words 'precise' and 'accuracy'. These are not interchangeable. Precision is repeatable accuracy.

You may have a Mini-14 that shoots dead nuts bullseyes first shot every time but the next ten rounds are all over the countryside. Let it cool back down for 30 minutes - first shot- bullseye; next 10 to hell and gone. Now I don't actually believe there are Mini-14's out there that are even that good.

It is on par with eastern bloc weapons where accuracy is reported in percentage of hits. Which is to say - shit.

Ruger is unapologetic about this. The will tell you it is a 'utility' gun and a five inch group at fifty yards is accepatble. Ripoff city.

I think they are made with rejected 10/22 sporter barrels. Only thing I can figure that would make them so bad.

It's too late for the green haired

earing wearin', men's hosiery sportin', panty waist:

"Today, instead of men celebrating the testosterone fog God created us to
live in, which makes us by fiat the provider, protector, hunter and hero of our
nation, men now are preening, irresponsible, passive navel gazers to whom
responsibility, courage, self sacrifice, and honor have become dirty
words. " ----- Doug Giles

Here's hopin' you ain't one 'cause the testosterone fog is the root of all things worth doin'!