Texas Wins

Why?

What do you mean why? Their quarterback is named Colt McCoy. Seriously. Does anyone think the homo buckeyes have a chance against a kid like that? Colt's been reading defenses since he was six.... when he was born... his daddy said, "Name him Colt. He's gonna quarterback the Horns one day". You know how I know he said that?

Because every daddy in Texas says that. That's why. This just happens to be one of the few who found a wife good enough to let it go.

NFL Week 1

Miami over Pittsburgh
Indy over Giants
Carolina over Atlanta
Bears over Green Bay
Cincinatti over KC
Jacksonville over Dallas
New England over Buffalo
Tampa Bay over Baltimore
Denver over Rams
Tennessee over Jets
Houston over Philadephia
Seattle over Detroit
Arizona over 49rs
San Diego over the Raiders

Bow Down

Guitar solo's are awesome? Band is for dorks? Drumlines are full of geeks?

Check this out.

Happy Birthday JAC










Nuff Said.

Cop Killer

At what point does being a cop become a shooting offense? I sincerely hope you realize I'm not kidding.

Everyday cops kill innocent people. They do it accidentally. They do it deliberately. And what are the consequences? When you accidentally kill someone, its manslaughter... or attempted murder... depending on how the DA feels that day. When a cop accidentally kills someone... what happens? Nothing. You say a world without cops is anarchy. I say when the law doesn't apply to cops... you already have anarchy.

A couple months paid leave while bureaucrats with a vested interest in the outcome pretend to investigate. Isn't interesting that these investigations always seem to last just long enough for the public to forget about the poor bastard that died for no reason. In the exceedingly rare event that some negative report does come from the investigation, there are still no consequences for the offending officer. Here in Tennessee a park ranger opens fire on a car with no justifiable reason. The committee sent a scathing report of his actions to the park service. What came of it?

Nothing.

The murderer isn't in jail. He didn't even get a fine. You can't even sue the S.O.B. for the funeral costs.

Whack 'em stack'em. First they kill you... then they sweep it under the rug by claiming you were driving drunk... or dealing drugs... or had some sort of criminal record. Like committing a crime in the past makes it ok for the cops to kick down your door in the middle of the night and shoot you in your own bed. Oooops... No knock warrant.. wrong house.. sorry. Price you pay for living in a bad neighborhood.

And what about that case where the father called the cops to help with his mentally ill daughter who'd refused to take her meds? The girl had baracaded herself in her apartment and wouldn't come out.

Oh the cops got her out all right... in a body bag. See the girl waved a deadly lamp at one the cops. So they emptied a couple high-cap clips in her. Hey... she had a weapon. Right?

Now lets talk about cops in general. Think back to high school. Which kids became cops? Right. The assholes. The bullies, and those bullied. The bullies become cops because they get off on pushing people around and the badge gives them that excuse. Those who were bullied in high school become cops to turn the tables for themselves. Either way you end up with a dickhead with a chip on his shoulder.

Cops are like Teachers. The system is such that any individuals capable of the slightest decency are weeded out or run off sooner rather than later. The odds of you encountering one that's not a prick are something kin to winning the lottery.

If you learn nothing from this blog... if you hate everything I write.. please consider this: Cops never make anything better. They make every situation worse. Whatever problem you have, you are far better off solving it yourself, and then, only after it is well over, calling them to come document your story... and remember its always best for there to only be one story. Dead men tell no tales. Dead men don't sue.

Never dial 911.

The number you're looking for is 1911.

And don't give me any of the "not all cops are bad" shit. I have a friend who's a deputy. Talk to him for 15 minutes. He's a dick. He couldn't care less about right or wrong or keeping the peace. All he cares about is the law. All he cares about is authority. All he respects is power. And this is one of the best cops I've ever met!

If you're a cop... or a teacher for that matter... and you think you aren't a scumbag... you're probably wrong. If you're not.. there's one sure way to find out. Get a new job.

For dozens.. I mean dozens of confirmed cases of death by cop, including details on the cases I've briefly mentioned... click here.

And now before you all morons email me... cleverly asking how long I was in jail... consider this:
the post above was written by a law abiding citizen with no criminal record, who's never been arrested, who is active in the children's ministry at his church. I've never even stepped foot in a jail, for any reason.

When inner-city blacks scream "Fuck the Poe Leece" you blow it off as black rage looking for an outlet.

So how do you blow it off when a law-abiding church going white boy, who likely is far more successful than you are says it? How do you blow it off when someone who's greatly benefited from the system, says the system is FUBAR?

We're leaving. I don't know exactly when. I don't know exactly where. But we are getting the hell out of this country. I'm going to look for America. I love America. Someone tell me where the hell it went.

And any cops who read this and get pissy... don't bother emailing me. I don't give a hootin' hell.

Fare Thee Well

Its an odd time to write this... a Saturday in September... college football's opening day. UT is kicking off in just over an hour.

I've never talked about this here before... and I think this weekend is probably the most appropriate time.

I want to say goodbye to my favorite athlete. A man I've cheered on over 2 decades. The greatest individual athlete I've ever seen in person. An artist... as brutal as Mike Tyson in his prime... with Joe Montana's touch. A burst comparable to Dion Sanders... Eyes like no other on planet earth.

Tennis is as brutal a sport as there is. When you're out there losing... there is no one to save you. No teammates... no coach... just the lines.. the net.. and the man on the other side. Thousands of people watch while you are systematically destroyed, and nothing you do helps. The only thing comparable is boxing... and at least in boxing someone on your side can end the misery by throwing in the towel. Its no place for the weak of heart.

In his early twenties people doubted... but I never did. One legend goes like this...

A gaggle of media types are standing around at an athletic convention where Nike has a big big presence. Their poster boy... the Rebel if ever there was one, is hyped everywhere. These grizzled old writers are skeptical... with good reason. They wonder aloud what the fuss is about.

A couple of the boys at Nike get wind of this sentiment. Word is sent out... and the crusty old skeptics are escorted to some batting cages Nike has set up. They stand around a while waiting to see what the fuss is about... but happy to watch major leaguers take turns hitting the 95mph machine

Then he shows up.

Andre Agassi stepped into that machine picked up a bat... gave a nod to the controller, and took off running full out, right at the barrel. The machine blasted a 95mph fastball right at him.

***CRACK***

You say hitting a round object with a round bat is the hardest act in sports?

Andre Agassi did on the run. Over and Over again.

What most people don't know about Andre... is that all those people who questioned his commitment to Tennis were exactly right. He never chose tennis. He didn't particularly like it. He did it because his dad made him do it.

People thought that he had a confidence problem before he won Wimbledon... and they assumed that after that big win, he'd rip of title after title. But he faded. Why? Because he never had a confidence problem at all. He had a motivation problem. A problem that got worse after the win, not better. After he went in hoping that winning would finally satisfy him. After it, he looked around and asked, "Is this it? Is this all there is?" He was wondering if it worth spending his life for that feeling, and he was pretty sure it wasn't.

So much has been made of his up and down career, and what could have been if he'd just been focused early in his twenties. But how many people can say they were the number 3 player in the world in a sport they didn't particularly like?

How many people can say they won Wimbledon, on nothing but raw talent?

And why did Andre hate tennis?

After he won Wimbledon in 1992... his first phone call was to his dad. What did dear old dad say?

"You should've won in 4 sets."

Throughout his career Andre has bared his soul to the tennis world. He's been through more than any other athlete I can think of, from the dizzying highs of Rock and Roll Tennis to the miserable lows of all those Grand Slam Finals lost. From US Open Champion... to changing his own score cards on some backwoods qualifier tournament... ranked 250th in the world.

The last reincarnation of Andre... the one most of you probably know as the short bald guy... He is the result of Andre Agassi finally deciding he likes tennis. After being a pro for 11 years... Andre looked around and thought... hmmm... Maybe I'll actually try.

The result is one of the greatest tennis players of all time. The last man who will ever win all 4 grand slams. One of only a hand full to have one 8 or more total.. and without question, the most beloved tennis player in the history of the game.

I suspect sometime in the next few days... Andre Agassi's career will come to an end. He's retiring at this year's US Open and every match could be his last. If you get a chance, I recommend staying up one night to watch. These matches... these nights... they come around once every 10 years or so... and it will be a long time before the next one. The crowd will be insane... screaming their lungs out for the man they grew up watching. Pleading for the games Greatest Entertainer to pull out one big show... for the Game's Greatest puncher to throw one more hay-maker from 3 feet inside the baseline.

If you hate tennis... watching a matches like these will make you wonder why you don't watch more.

But then you'll remember... Its only special because of a great player... and great players don't come around that often.

Thanks for your time Andre. Thanks for changing the game. Thanks for translating tennis to all those millions of American sports fans. Enjoy every second of this encore sir.

Its been one helluva ride.

New Carry Weapon

It will shock those who know me to know end, but I've purchased a new carry weapon. Before you get to excited let me state that I am in no way retiring my beloved Taurus PT-101. Quite the opposite. I'm tricking her out with a new barrel and recoil compensator.

I purchased my new girl at a gun show in Nashville this weekend and today was actually my first chance to work her out. She did not disappoint.

The target to the left was shot from 25-yards while standing in approximately 20 seconds, with Winchester 165-grain $17 per 100 Walmart ammo.

Please note the 11 holes. By my scoring that's a 2 1/8th inch group... if I were writing for Guns and Ammo it would be a 1 1/16th inch group.

Now see... this is why JAC and I often wonder allowed if most of the bloggers around actually know how to shoot. Because if you don't get results like this, then I am assuming you don't. This wasn't what I would say is excellent. I would say its good. The PT-101 would likely have topped it if I were shooting it single action. A 1911 would've cut the group in half.

Consider what it would've been if I'd been on a bench taking my time.

This is not bragging people. I really don't think I'm that good. I consider myself effective. I've never shot in a competition so I have no idea how I stack up. What I do know is I've never been to a range and seen anyone shoot like me or JAC. The only fella who's ever shot with us and kept up is an old timer who shot for as an alternate on the US Pistol team back when.

Anyway... I put 120 rounds through the new weapon and found these results to be perfectly typical. This was the last group I shot. There were no malfunctions of any sort.

Oh? What's that? What did I buy?

There is no out-of-the-box compact service pistol that will out-shoot the Steyr. No Glock. No Taurus. No Walther. No Springfield. No Khar. No CZ. Nothing. There are rumors around the net of malfunctions, but I find them dubious. If I encounter any problems, I will certainly discuss them here.

For now I am pleased with my purchase and after today, I trust it enough to carry it.

The Only Good Cat is a...

Post ATF Report

While it is regretful that I miss the standard ATF post last night I assure you it was not without good cause. Friday morning at 6:40am I loaded up the Audi and rolled out for Bardstown, KY. JAC and I had been workin' out plans to meet Underwater Operative there and I was lookin' forward to the trip.

I dropped the top and passed the time with an Arturo Fuente.. sang along with Hank and Tent Tomlinson, and ok... even The Offspring... it was a good road trip to be sure.

JAC and UO were already at Talbotts Tavern when I got there... I'll be damned if they didn't start drinkin' without me. No account sum-bitches.

I should describe Talbotts for ya... Honestly... its like Mecca for bourbon lovers. It was established in I believe... 1779... and its been open every day but Christmas ever since, apart from one 2 week closure for renovations back in the 80s. Its a massive stone building... with dark wide-plank hardwood floors. Its quiet.. cool... dim... Its.... Perfect.

The three of us drank, ate, told lies, and flirted with the waitresses for a couple hours. It was pretty sad really... the girls were hittin' on UO real bad. He's takin' though... He remained strong. Pure as the driven snow... I declare it so.

JAC however is a scoundrel and a rapscallion.

Conveniently located right next to Talbotts is the Jailer's Inn... a bed and breakfast that used to be the oldest operational jail in Kentucky. They still have the stocks out front.

From there it was off to Makers Mark down in Loretto Kentucky for the tour. Expectations were pretty high for the tour, as everyone says its the best one around... but we were pretty disappointed. They only show the dipping line and the warehouse. The whole tour lasts about 20-minutes, unless you have a bunch of stupid yankees asking stupid questions to try to impress everyone. Naturally we did.

God I hate Buckeyes.

After Makers we found ourselves free... with time to kill... so we did what God Fearin' rednecks do under those circumstances... we went back to the bar and got loaded. We tried every good bourbon they had... which was a lot. We tried everything from Henry McKenna 10-year (bleh) to Four Roses Single Barrel (bleh), to Silver Eagle (BEWARE! You WILL GET DRUNK), to Rare Breed and Bookers. Knob Creek and Russels Reserve is a given.

We finished the day off with a big ol' ribeye cooked right, and sobered up with some damned fine sweet tea.

I presented UO with an autographed bottle of Makers from my very own barrel, to commemorate the event. He'll probably pass it down to his grand-kids... who'll wonder just what the hell a bloggerblaster is... oh well... hell of a thought though right?

All in all we had us a fine time y'all. If ever you need a vacation.. I highly recommend Bourbon Country. Stay at the Jailer's Inn... that way you can stagger back to your room, a scant few paces from the Bourbon Bar at Talbotts... home of the world's finest bartender... site of the greatest lies ever told... Keeper of the finest whiskey on God's Earth.

Amen.

Quoth The Roman

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero (42B.C)

***WARNING: NOT WORK SAFE ***













The 2007 Z-1000.

Hurt so good.

*** SPECIAL REPORT ***

Shiner Bock.

Good Beer.


That is all.

A System of Limited Courts

Wild Turkey inspired... I ponder... ponder with me.

Imagine if you will... peanut oil... 400 degree peanut oil... its not boiling.. because it doesn't boil until you put something in it... so perhaps... the lawyers and judges might not know what we have in mind until they're dropped in. They'll hiss and scream like feminist lobsters... smells like progress.

I'm sick of the legal system we have in this country... its time we got back to justice. Stoning and Lynching says I. Mobs are considerably more expiditious than our court system.. more accurate... and far more sober as well. Folks know how mobs work. They're predictable.

For example... take that famous case of a football player killing a pretty blonde girl in his drive way.

Everyone knew he did it. In any decent country, the people would've mobbed up and hung the bastard that very night. Problem solved.

Compare our courts... slow police chases... thousands of hours of something masqurading as analysis from blobs of tofu masqurading as experts... and that was before the court case even started. Worse yet... we were all forced to watch. Ok... not forced.. but nearly. All that... and they got it wrong.

You favour this?

Of course mob justice gets some wrong. So does our system. So really we're aguing over details... details that no one actually knows.

And what is a court anyway? Its a mob. Its just a slow mob. Its the state that charges. Its the jury that convicts. And who is the Jury? Right. A mob. A lazy mob... but a mob to be sure.

Ahh.. you say... but but but.... the courts bring order! Why, without the courts... bill kills fred.. fred's family kills bill... bill's family kills some of freds family... ect ect ect. Yes I say. So what? For the most part families can, and will, work out their problems on their own. All families have a sorry, no good, lay about, worthless, shiftless sum-bitch in them somewhere... and when he does something stupid, odds are they'll let him suffer the consequences.

Feuds will still happen... but so what? Feuds are fun! A damned site more interesting than Greta Van Dyke fresh off of her 57th plastic surgery, regurgitating something she thinks she heard some blob of bean curd say once.

Nope... its settled... Me and ol' Bill see eye-to-eye on this one. First we have to kill the lawyers. I've got 4 hundered elements and a 12,000 watt natural gas generator... gimmie a day or two to fill up the pool with peanut oil and we'll be in business.

Y'all Come!

A Man in His Shop





No Captions Necessary.

ATF

I'm freaked out... Help me freak out.


See that right there? That's why you drink fine bourbon. A little sip... and suddenly... you don't give a damn.

Now where were we? Vice Cabinets! That's what I was gonna blog on tonight... Lets talk about 'em. Now, I don't know that anyone else has ever even heard the term vice cabinet before... probly because I made it up. Reckon that means a definition is in order:

Vice Cabinet: Cabinet in which one stores objects relating to his vices.

Ladies... you don't get a vice cabinet. Your night stand has a drawer.

So what goes in it? Booze and Tobacco mostly... at least that's what's in mine. All of pipes... my humidor... my wine tools... my smoking tools. Everything. I also store my booze, a couple decantures... glasses... its like a one stop shop of all good things. I am seriously considering placing a really nice Bible in it as well. But what you put in it is up to you. Your vices may not be mine. Remember though... this is an object of discretion... I seriously doubt you really want to display your sex toys and porn. That's not to say they can't go in your VC. But you should at least put them in a locked box in your VC.

So what do vice cabinetts look like?

Vice cabinetts are specific type of china cabinett. They have plenty of shelf space... preferably with doors and lights to display your fine whiskey... and they need an open spot to actually pour the booze, or to sit the humidor when you get it down to make your selections. The perfect vice cabinet is like a server with a hutch on it, leaving nearly the whole top of the server available for workspace, and still providing enclosed storage above.

That's function... now lets talk style... Its my opinion... and since I invented the classification my opinion is pretty f'ing important... that vice cabinets should be masculine as all hell. They should be big solid pieces of wood furniture that no one in his right mind would ever move. Ornate is fine... curves are fine... carving... all those things bespeak craftmenship.. which is honoured in the class of manly arts. Boys... this is your one piece of furniture. This... and ok... the gun safe... basicly this all you get. Damn the torpedos. It needs to be something you like, that you picked out. If your wife bows up about it, bow up right back. Its not her vice cabinet. Its yours. You don't tell her what kind of jewelry box to buy. Tell her to mind her own damned buisness.

That said... it really shouldn't be a problem at all. Its been my experience that women greatly support the vice cabinet. It organizes things that would otherwise lend to chaos... and its location is totally up in the air. If I may suggest though... wherever the boys congregrate is the best location. If you have a library that you like to hang out in after dinner while the ladies chit chat... It should be there. If you retire to the family room to watch the game... that's fine to. The point is to make your vices accessible... yet classy.

Now I am ashamed to admit that I have been without a vice cabinet since we moved. The little lady stole her grandmother's china cabinet back from me... which was the original vice cabinet... and now I have been without for months.

But fear not! Tomarrow is the day. My new... amazingly awesome... 6-foot wide... 6-foot tall solid cherry vice cabinet arrives tomarrow morning! And lo... all shlall be right with the world.

Yes.. once its organized and up and running... I will post pics.

One request before we get on with it...

Has anyone shot a 24/7 or Walther P99? Anyone? Anyone?

Whatcha drinking?

So...



Are you sure you're not a Titans fan?

***UPDATE***

It seems the gallery is some what critical... Maybe this..



is what you had in mind? Nah... I think when MM says he favours brunetts... he really means something else;

Heep Bad Juju

Look... do yourself a favor... make sure you give your bugout bag a real good once over boys. I'm not saying I know for a fact that something is going down soon... but there on the back of my neck is standin' up a bit if ya take my meaning.

August 22nd... its got a lot of significance. First of all, the Imams over in Iran have been dropping hints about that date. Plus... if you look at the muslim calender, you see that August 22nd is actually the night that they traditionally commemorate Mohammad's night flight. This would definately be an appropiate day to throw down. Perhaps the most so.

Add to that the general feeling in our population that something is about to go down...

and now don't go getting all pissy with me about that site either... I've been around the net long enough to know that is most likely BS. I'm just using it as an example of people's worry.

EP's all over this. Hist post actually lit a fire under my ass too. Check him out if you'd like more.

Again... I'm not making a prediction here. I'm just saying... its always a good time to double check your preparedness... and now just might be a little bit better than good.

BJW

- What's black, white, black, white, and green?

Two skunks fighting over a pickle.


- What did the tailor say when he pricked himself?

Ouch.


- Why are crocodiles brown and flat?

Because if they were yellow and round, they'd be lemons.


- Why don't blind people like to skydive?

It scares the heck out of the dogs.


- Why are horses poor dancers?

They have two left feet.

- A medieval kingdom was situated on an island in the sea. A bridge connected the island to the mainland. The problem was, anyone who tried to cross the bridge would be attacked by giant mystical yellow fingers and dragged to the bottom of the sea. The king had sent his bravest knights to overcome the fingers and cross to the other side, but they all failed.
One day, a young page wanted to make an attempt of his own. Neither the king nor his remaining knights believed he could do it, but before they could argue, the page was already half way across the bridge -- and, quite surprisingly, the yellow fingers did not rise out of the water to grab him.

The moral of the story?

Let your pages do the walking through the yellow fingers.

Terrorist Cells, Self Ignighting Bombs, And New York City

8 terrorists made up the cell... each armed with 10 self ignighting fire bombs. Over a year of planning... 80 locations... specificly picked along broadway and the Hudson River... Theatres... Museams... Hotels... Shipping Warehouses... all picked with one goal in mind;

To Burn New York City to the ground.

The bombs were to go off nearly simultenously... all 80 within minutes of each other... the shock, terror, and confusion would devastate the city's ability to respond. It was nearly perfect.

An islamic plot? Al Queda? Planned by Osama himself?

November 25th...

of 1864.

Confederate soldiers from the 10th Kentucky Partisans carried out the attack... which was actually foiled by the chemist that made it all possible in the first place. Turns out the chemist chickened out, and weakened the formula in the greek fire... most of the bombs barely burned at all. While dozens of buildings burned... no one was killed.

But before you lament the failure... consider this... one of the hotels that was bombed that night was the La Farge House. It just so happened that there... on that fatefull night, the three Wilkes brothers were on stage at the same time. You know the Wilkes brothers...Edwin Thomas Booth... Janius Brutus Booth Jr... and the youngest...

John Wilkes Booth.

You see... had the fire bombing of New York been successful, John Wilkes Booth never would've survived to assassinate The Tyrant Lincoln... Just six months later.

And you'll never hear that on Paul Harvey... but it certainly is... The Rest of the Story.

I Give You...



The Battle Flag of the 4th Kentucky Infantry... Part of the Orphan Brigade. I believe this speaks for itself.