S-MArt Saves Lives

Well, me GOING to S-MArt saves lives.
I was REALLY tired one night last week. Had no interest at all in going in to deal with the nonsense. but had already pushed my limits on what management would likely tolerate out of me for the week (being a reliable worker, etc.) so I decided to go anyhow, even though it likely meant "projects."
( I was sent home 10 min. into it for overstaffing & my willingness to leave, anyway.)

As I am backing out of the drive, I notice that the neighbors deck smells funny, mostly because 3 foot flames are dancing on it. My best guess is that a smoke or a spliff got lodged between the deck and some leaves and the stone facade on the house.

I ran up and banged on the door- when a very sleepy twentysomething answered, all I could do is grin and ask "Dude- got a bucket?" and point at the fire.
The resltant "HOLY SH&T!" was worth the stop alone. While he ran for water, I kicked some snow onto the flames; 3 minutes later, all that was left was aromatic steam and I was back on my way to S-Mart.

Sell a Child to Feed a Child

No, this post has nothing to do with me or the Mrs, personally. Lets get that out of the way up front.

It really has to suck to be one of the parents in some turd-world nation that has backed themselves into a corner like this- a corner that is so dark and filled with desperation that your only apparent remaining option, short of violent crime is to sell one of your children in order to feed the others.

(I'm da King of run on sentences baby- WHOHOO!)

How could you live with yourself, every morning, waking up to a missing child, to cook a meal for your family that is the moral equivalent of forcing them into sibling cannibalism? You may never know (or even worse, find out for SURE!) what happened to your child- prostitution, crime, death, medical experiments. It has to be horrible.

Luckily, America is not in that position yet- but it is only luck. This nation's foolish behavior has taken us down a very frightening road-and I suspect that it is all DOWNHILL. I pray that I am wrong, but with human nature being what it is...I'll be glad when we get out West.

As it is now, the economy is falling apart at the seams, and unlike the mighty Battlestar Galactica, there is no funky Cylon goop we can slap on her skeleton to bring her back to life. The crisis is a fundamental ignorance of fundamentals. To modify an old punchline, "No Gold, Radio!"

Learn a skilled trade while you have a chance, or learn to grow food and livestock. I won't need to trade parts or repair services for CPA work or "mad l33t skilz" when the infrastructure snaps and Battlestar USA slides into a decaying orbit, destined to burn up.

Call it a hunch, but I doubt that any of the prominent survival authors, or televison or internet survival specialists are going to find extra room in THEIR lifepod for any latecomers. Don't put yourself in the position that so many parents in other countries have. Don't eat your kids.

If you don't prepare for toughER economic (and otherwise) bleak times, someone ELSE may eat your kids. And your dog. And your cat. AND YOU.

I have been told more than once that if I can't "eat it, shoot it, or (fill in the blank)" then it's not worth having. While this is not TOTALLY true, there is a wisdom to it.

I wonder what a binder of MAGIC:The Gathering or Pokemon Cards will be worth in 2015?
Value for collectors, or value as firestarters?
Do ya reckon anyone will trade seeds, tools, or even toothpaste for them?
Would they trade those things NOW in any slimy mudhole in rural China or India, where these frivolities were probably printed to begin with? I doubt it.

Our brilliant nation of over-consumers have elected Hope and Change.
If you cannot tell by watching short-circuiting Nancy Pelosi, the Cylons aren't COMING, folks-
the Cylons are HERE, and running the ship.

Super-fortunately for us here in the US, "The Plan" is not yet in full swing. time is short, but the methods people are resorting to are not LAST RESORTS. It may seem like it financially to some, but before the Age of the Platinum Unicorn may begin, and before the Easter Bunny can deliver your free health care, even well prepared 'Muricans may find it necessary to take what they consider Desperate Measures (from the 'Murican point of view.)

Anyone short on cash may be tempted to "sell a child to feed a child." I personally believe this is the wrong tactic for the current time.

Lets say a gunowner has to sell a nice piece of their collection to make rent, power, mortgage, or food- well then, that is selling a "child" to feed themselves.

If, HOWEVER, they are selling the piece of their collection in order to buy ammo to feed another piece in their collection...well...whoa. For shame. Sell it for hi-cap magazines instead.
(just kidding about the last few sentences, I just suck at transitioning.)

Point is, some very nice stuff that normally would remain unseen by the masses has and will come up for sale, due to financial necessity or even hardship.)

Case in point:
a close friends personal (but thank heavens, not only) Long Distance Zombie Zapper.
.50 BMG sub MOA. Ouch; I want, but cannot feed it myself. I can count the .50 BMG I have on hand on the fingers and toes of fewer than 10 targets.

Lookie:




More info available on AuctionArms.

Good luck with your collections, folks.
Like old Scoutmaster Vic used to say to me weekly: "Buy Cosmoline."

Desert MARPAT on a Glock

I forget which model this is (as if it matters,)

Had to hand mix colors, as usual; nothing matches the fabric right out of the bottle.

Signature Snow on a Marlin

Just playing catch-up here, folks. Remember- 2 jobs AND a shop. Lots to pay off before the world goes up in Glenn Beck's "Fiery Flood."

Why, oh WHY!?!

Why do people put their guns in fluffy cases, haul them in and out of the house, and forget to oil them since 1957?
This former SuperModel of an Ithaca Model 37R will now need refinished, its collectors value consigned to the ash-heap of history,

This is gonna feel (to me) like having to do reconstructive cosmetic surgery on a perky and firm 25-year-old Denise Richards(had she been hideously disfigured.).
Kinda depressing, and the results, while possiblt way cool, will NEVER be as sweet-assed as the original version was.

So here are the BEFORE pictures:






After discussion with the owner and the work is finished, I'll put up the AFTERs.

...and, while I'm thinking of it, DOLLHOUSE ROCKS. Nice job, Joss. We missed ya, buddy.

1100 from a tropical paradise

...or at least, located where a tropical paradise should be.
The only thing that bugged me about sending this back to the owner was the amazing lack of a fiber-optic front bead on the sawed-down vent ribbed barrel.

2001 Mercury Grand Marquis-with Hyperdrive!

The other day, returning from the shop, as I was blazing along I-35, I beheld a beautiful, if not Indiana Jones-like sight. For about a 2-3 mile stretch, there were simply CLOUDS of bats over the interstate. It had recently warmed up just enough for flies to reappear in the shop vicinity, so there must have been food in flight.
While pondering the awesomeness of what I was seeing and wondering if perhaps Bruce Wayne was nearby, I blew past one of Iowa's Finest.
AS is habit, I look down at the speedometer, make the appropriate adjustments, and then just to make sure all is kosher in dataland, I proceed to reset the GPS in the car.
Lo, and behold!



Apparently, the Mrs. had her friends at CAR-X install a hyperdrive.
And here I was always jealous of the cool kid bloggers that drive EuroCars. Hell, now all I needs is to get me an R2 unit and DuraCoat me some proton torpedoes, and I'm ready to rock.

Straight from the horse's ass...

"...Today does not mark the end of our economic troubles. Nor does it constitute all of what we must do to turn our economy around. But it does mark the beginning of the end..." (emphasis was THERE when he said it.)

I'm telling ya- if you don't read JWR's site daily, you are missing out on info you might NEED soon.

Also, as a funny...

My SON gives me the finger(s)

So we got to do the second ultrasound the other day, and lo & behold- it is a BOY.
One would think that I could now cease stockpiling weapons and ammunition; in reality, I now have to buy TWO of everything.
Dammit.

Sucky old Iowa here is expecting 10-12 inches of snow on Friday, which will keep me out of the shop Saturday; pisses me off as I wanted to knock out a couple of sets of grips and redo my parkerizing setup. (in case anyone wonders why gunsmiths seem to take forever to get stuff done...)
At least tomorrow I'll be able to finish the grips I started 2 weeks ago, and get some sweet pics of a .17 Marlin being done in Signature Snow (plus.)
Perhaps the TimMeister shall even learn AK disassembly...
The newest family member needs a tan. Mwahahahaha!