For Matt

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Above add from today's Gainesville Coins.

Stephen

Take It or Leave It, part two

Bare with me I've only had one cup of coffee this morning and this rusty middle-aged (heh) brain of mine isn't quite ready to function at full speed.

Yesterday we touched on the subject of keeping a low profile as gun owners, the importance of gun safes, and the strategy of nondiscrimination where it concerns the acquisition of firearms and ammunition. 

My good friend, Matt sent an email and asked if I'd comment on a subject we've all seen posted on various blogs many times over.

I'll use his term, 'Chest Thumping.' A very apt description, and silly. You've seen it - Mr. Blogger states to the world he's gonna kick some butt, shoot the black booted thugs at his front door when (not if) they arrive to take away his guns.

Really.

Remember the point I made in part one of keeping a low profile. First of all most of these so called bad-asses would, I'm sure, turn and run, as he screams for his mommy, after the first gunshot.

Secondly, if you plan to stand your ground and take on the massive fire power utilized and available to law enforcement and military you will achieve nothing more than the complete destruction of your home and the death of your family members. As an individual, you will lose.

Never announce your intentions to the enemy. All resistance against tyranny are birthed in silence.

I once met a gentleman small of physical stature. After our handshake he excused his height. I'd never met a man with such a self-depreciating attitude. He laid his heart and soul out to me and made excuses for his lack of physical ability. Near the end of  our talk I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, "Size isn't the measure of a man, it's the man's character and the goodness of his soul by which will be remembered and judged."

Deep waters run silent, but deadly.

*****

Let's move along. It's readily apparent our supply of firearms and related fodder have nearly run dry. In the meantime, as we wait for the warehouse to be resupplied, concentrate your efforts on spare parts and the other odd bits and pieces available. Don't tell me you cannot find spare parts. The UPS driver just left me a small package. It contained a nice lower parts kit. They're out there, you just need to knuckle down and search.

If in this search you only find a few springs, take them. Check the flea markets. The locals, those that live pay check to pay check are digging through the rubble of their homes and are now taking advantage in this over reaction to fear and with the sight of huge profits in their greedy little eyes are selling all things gunny. Jump.

I know, money is tight. But, if, and it's a big if, Biden and crew have their way, that three grand AR will bring six in the near future. At present I'm far more worried about magazines and ammunition. I have a simple strategy - I tell every person I meet of my wants. I give them a list which includes all those odd partial boxes of grandpa's ammo, any caliber. Those old moldy boxes of twenty-two and forty-five will last a good eighty years. I use the word, cash, and the cash is also here for those firearms stashed in their closets. It works. Take it or leave it but that's my advice.

Sorry folks but I need to cut this short. I just can't work with the interruptions and these continued interruptions keep the bacon on the table.

Later.

Stephen

Matt's Back

Quick, run over and say hello to Matt, he's back. Hurry he might decide to leave before you have a chance.

He's, here.

While you're dinking around the net stop a moment a say a quick pray for Tam. As mentioned by Matt she has a problem and sure could use a bit of help. Besides, she's special.

Just home after a road trip and I'm too whupped to write. So ya'll take care out there.

Stephen

Goodbye, Old Friend

So long, Matt. Take care and enjoy life.

We'll miss you.

Stephen

Stolen From Matt

I just stole this picture from my best friend, Matt. Even warned him I'd take it. Now its mine.....

I'm keeping it. He can't have it back. It's mine now...evil laugh....

Stephen

Bits and Pieces

Misty here this morning and 68 degrees. I just told my day nurse I would return to work next week, open my shop for business. She said, "No, Sir, you will not. If you do your insurance coverage will cease."

Well just kiss my butt. What's that old saying, 'what they don't know won't hurt them.' Yeah, like that.

 

Our good friend Matt has dropped his blog. Via email I've encouraged him to begin anew. I sure hope he reconsiders. He's an intelligent writer with a sense of humor, rare.

I was able to watch Swamp People last evening. I like the show, but some little things about it bug the hell out of me. Has anyone else, besides me, noticed their rifles...well, I have and it's downright criminal. Those rifles haven't seen a good cleaning in years. On the program last night one of those 'ole boys held a Ruger 10/22 caked in rust. Patches big enough to have given life to alien critters. It's shameful.
In some shots the 'shooter' of the gator will have a Ruger Mini-14, the scene changes and he's now holding a Marlin model 60. You'd think they could at least keep a consistent timeline in the footage. And for Pete's sake invest in stainless steel barrels if you're too damn lazy to use an oil rag.

I had a sad drive this morning with Little Bit. She jumped into my truck all happy. Said, "Papa, it's only three days until my birthday." Replied I knew and was happy for her.

Down the road a bit she turned to me, all smiles, holding my hand. Then, "Papa, is my mommy coming down and is she going to stay at your house and will she be at my birthday party?"

I waited a few seconds before giving her the answer I knew she didn't really need. Made an excuse of minor adjustments to my wipers.

She turned towards me and waited. I again took her hand in mine and smiled at her and said, "Sweetheart, I'm not sure. It's possible but you do understand your mother is sick, don't you, and when adults are sick it's hard for them to travel (Lord, please forgive my lies to this child) and perhaps it's best if she didn't come down."

Without a sound she turned from me and held a steady gaze outside her window. A few minutes later she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. I tried a few times for a response. Nothing. I tried to tickle her, didn't work. The morning was gray and wet and I felt a sorrow so deep it almost made my bones ache. I hate this.

As we made our turn for her breakfast I tried again..."Little Bit, Papa's sorry. I really am. I love you." Reached over and stroked her face. "But remember, Honey, you'll have Papa and Nana and Dad, and your step-mother. It'll be a nice party.

Then, "She always lies to me, Papa. She always lies."

Sadly, she's correct. 

I parked the truck and asked her if I could hold her for a while. She slowly, very slowly, came to my arms. I held her close, kissed her. We stayed that why for far too long. Our time is limited of mornings, but it was worth it. 

She came around and as we walked inside the restaurant she was again all smiles and giggles.

It'll take me a little longer.

Stephen

Zombies for Matt

My friend Matt posted on the forth-coming third (I think) installment of Walking Dead; it returns in October. For those of you that enjoy Zombie fiction, which I do, you might like to try 'Adrian's Undead Diary.' Be forewarned, it has some foul language and sex. If you have the ability to overlook those two drawbacks, it is a great read which any survivalist can relate to and might even pick up a few suggestions for your preps.

The link can be found on my blog list or just click here.  http://adriansundeaddiary.com/. Same for Matt's blog at,

http://troublesometimesarehere.blogspot.com/.

Stephen