10:04 – We got a lot done in my office yesterday. I was throwing out stuff like a ruthless panda. We filled two or three large garbage bags with stuff, including such valuable items as a carton of sealed glass vials of civil defense water purification powder that expired in 1978. We did keep a lot of stuff, such as a sealed plastic tube for an HE 81mm mortar round filled with several hundred rounds of 5.56 ammo that I loaded in about 1979. That’ll be fine for Barbara to use to shoot familiarization with the Mini-14 and AR-15, where an occasional misfire wouldn’t be a problem. We also found a lot of other neat stuff, including a Lafayette mobile SSB CB radio and SWR meter, both of which date from about the time I moved down to Winston-Salem in 1979/80. We didn’t find some of the stuff I know I still have, such as several hundred rounds of 7.62/.308 hand-loaded with pulled blue tips (incendiary) and another several hundred rounds I loaded with pulled tracer.
We’re installing floor-to-ceiling shelves in my office today, which’ll give Barbara room to unbox and shelve a lot of stuff. We’ll also do more ruthless panda stuff.
Oh boy, another short trip down Memory Lane for OFD; I remember both the mortars, which we got trained on but which I never used in SEA, and they had both HE and LE ammo available. Allegedly five-meter “kill zones.” And I remember the Lafayette Radio store that was on Route 9 near the Framingham/Natick line (Boston-Worcester Turnpike); I used to cruise through there and dig all their stuff, but had no money to buy any of it.
Ruthless pandas, eh? I hear tell that they’re nasty buggers, almost as nasty as them cutesy koalas Down Under. Our bears here are nice.
Drop bears, gotta watch out for drop bears.
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All our bears do is pee on people.
We have the black bears here in New England and north-country Vampire State; the males usually run about 200 pounds, or less than me, and it’s a toss-up who’s meaner when disturbed or pissed off. However…recent sightings up here and across the lake indicate that we may have some male bears at twice that weight be-bopping around the woods. So on hikes or x-c or snowshoe fun, OFD carries a .41 Ruger Blackhawk SA with hot loads; those puppies will go through a car engine block. I’ve done it. I’d try like hell to avoid the bears and/or avoid having to shoot one, but in a pinch, better him than me.
Worse trouble running into an adult moose, either on foot or on the road. They won’t fucking move. Your call, human. And don’t piss them off. The .41 would be useless. They usually stick to boggy areas, though, and a big plus is they can’t climb trees.
The other thing to keep an eye out for up here is any coyotes running in packs, which so far does not seem to be a problem; the ones we’ve seen are loners. And we’re starting to hear more rumors of cougars; big ones sighted recently in Arkansas and TN, which is a long way from here, but like I say, rumors, along with fur tufts and possible tracks.
No venomous reptiles, though, except a small colony of timber rattlers in the cliffs down in the southern part of the state right on the NY line. Those can also be found in Maffachufetts, along with copperheads. Nasty lookin’ buggers, too; ones I’ve seen down there are gray with evil yellow eyes.
My own mortar story is from ROTC Advanced Camp. During mortar training, you get to setup, aim, haul rounds and drop rounds. Some chick dropped a round in the tube and just kept her hands there instead of sliding them down the tube. Round comes out, fins cut both of her hands. Instead of sending her home immediately for a redo, the Army cashiered the mortar team training us. Nice. The check later failed camp for multiple fuckups, to come back the following year.
“Some chick dropped a round in the tube and just kept her hands there instead of sliding them down the tube. Round comes out, fins cut both of her hands.”
Jesus wept. OK, you have a dumbass wench who probably didn’t even belong in that class; then you have at least one instructor who wasn’t fucking paying attention to her. Damn.
“Instead of sending her home immediately for a redo, the Army cashiered the mortar team training us.”
Naturally.
“The check later failed camp for multiple fuckups, to come back the following year.”
Yup, just keep running her through it no matter how long it takes or how many fuckups; gotta have more fembat officers, come Hell or high wotta. I’m evidently older than you; we didn’t have any womyn in AF security police during my time, or in the Army’s MP company where I was later. But I got to see some of that same stuff just a bit later at the MA State Police Academy and other cop training capers; they were all allowed to slide. I was nervous about having them as backups but one of them actually did OK; cute little blonde Finnish girl; she’d be right there and doing the right stuff every time, never a fuckup. She later did a gig with the MA Criminal Justice Training Council and then went on to the BATF; last I heard, she’d retired on disability. But in general, they’re not usually set up for some types of police calls out there and certainly not front-line combat, like those comely wenches serving as “shield maidens” in the “Vikings” series.
See, now I’m not only a hater and a rayciss, but a misogynist, too. Oh well.
Princess was just here to grab her cah and go do a contra dance thang again down in Montpeculiar, and we shoveled out another 100 bucks to her for her socializing/entertainment weekend. She thinks and hopes Bernie will finally make it, and I just laughed; told her he just might, if Cankles croaks or goes to jail. And if meanwhile the RINO ass-hats sandbag Trump and put Cruz in there.
Princess is six feet and 200 pounds but she’d never make a cop or combat soldier, not in a zillion years; neither would her brother, who is my height and probably has thirty or forty pounds on me by now, i.e., 270-280. And only one of my own brothers has done that gig, like me; he wasn’t cut out for it, either, due to having a very short fuse.
We did 105mm howitzers, not mortars. Working the guns, working the plotting table, and acting as the forward observers. And, yes, hauling the rounds 50 or 100m from the safe storage point up to the close holding point and then to the gun. And, no, the “females” in the group mostly couldn’t carry even one round that distance.
A few years later, after I got off active duty, a small female coworker was complaining that women weren’t allowed to be in combat arms. She wanted to be a tanker, and a woman could do it because all you have to do is push buttons to aim and fire the canon. Another coworker and I just looked at each other, then he started in on a list of just what a tanker’s gunner does, in particular taking a round off the rack and loading it, then pulling on the lever to slam the breech shut, then the easy part, then moving the lever to open the breech, then starting over. He suggested that she practice moving a chest-height 50 pound weight a yard or two every ten seconds for a few minutes and see how well she held up. Oh, and then there’s the bit about loading the tank’s ammo racks, and helping the driver replace a track, and …
We did the same with the 105. Chicks didn’t even attempt to haul rounds. That was fun training working every aspect. You really get the “King of Battle” mantra after that.
It occurred to me before, and does again now, that we could probably disabuse a lotta womyn and grrls from wanting to do this chit if we let them try it out for a while, on a “trial” basis, maybe a few days, a few weeks. Chick wants to be a tanker, why, give her the gig for a few days, see how she likes it. Military police? Do ride-alongs, go bust up bar brawls and throw gorilla-sized guys into the stockade or brig. Hey, some womyn are crack shots; wanna try being a sniper or counter-sniper? You bet, but bear in mind there’s a lotta stuff them guys do besides aiming and pulling a trigger. Jet fighter pilot? OK, but we’re not gonna pencil-whip ya through the actual training; go up with a veteran pilot and see how ya like them apples.
Same with cop work; ride along and watch us wrestle drunks in the gutter, bust up yet more bar brawls, and handle “domestics.” Slide by with the Homicide dicks and watch an autopsy. Respond to a house fire with multiple crispy critters and the car wrecks where body parts are all over the highway.
Never got to the 105s; that’s for you dogfaces. My heaviest piece was the 90mm recoilless rifle. Anything heavier needed doing, you get the flyboys to do it, with massive ordnance. Guys in my group like to make jokes about the AF when I’m there but they also remember who pulled their fat outta the fire countless times; some nice vids on the Toob from the Sandbox with crusty old jarhead and grunt types practically weeping for joy when the AF mofos come rolling in: “Mike it rine!”
… no Cankles Barbie …
I was watching Russell Simmons on TeeVee as he handed out water in Flint, MI. Of course, all the Redumblican WHITEY!s were blamed for this catastrophe. Dumbocrats and Obola are innocent and they (meaning rich WHITEY!s) should pay for it. Then he started rambling how “factory farms” especially *beef* are poisoning the oceans and that we will all die because of this. CNN just let him ramble on and on. I guess he gets all his vegan food like manna from Heaven. No farming involved.How did this guy get so rich and now lecture us peons to be vegan like him.
On CNN today, a Black host was interviewing Charles Blow. He was whining how Flint is a WHITEY! plot to bump off Black folk (wrote a big article apparently). Just before the interview, CNN was interviewing plenty of White folk who live there and have the same water system. I guess they got the word “don’t drink the water because we’re putting corrosive in it.” This guy is the biggest rayciss you could ever meet, but, because he’s Black, he gets a bye. Are we supposed to believe the Redumblican WHITEY! Governor of MI did this on purpose and should be strung up? How does such a small minority dictate so much policy.
Later CNN put up a report that is will cost $300 billion to fix Flint. We should just all pony up and pay for it I guess.
Off my soapbox, but Geez, you can’t turn on the tube without seeing BLM plastered everywhere.
Waah! I want a Cankles Barbie!
If I had an adult-size Cankles Barbie, along with her great big lovable lug of a husband, Larry Jeff Klinton, I’d have dozens or hundreds made and sell them to all the regional firing ranges and gun clubs. Probably a Chelsea Barbie, too; I laid off taking shots at her when she was a still a kid, but now with her wide-open gob, that amnesty has come to an end.
“….a Black host was interviewing Charles Blow.”
I may as well be the one to say it, since I’ve already self-identified here as a hater, rayciss and misogynist: what a great name for a single dad who plays on both teams!
“Are we supposed to believe the Redumblican WHITEY! Governor of MI did this on purpose and should be strung up?”
Not all by his lonesome; but he was pretty lame on the whole deal and looks bad right from the start.
“We should just all pony up and pay for it I guess.”
And do it without bitching about it or having a mean look on our faces; SMILE and genuflect on your knees and cry hosannas about how much JOY you have in doing so.
“…but Geez, you can’t turn on the tube without seeing BLM plastered everywhere.”
Now Colonel; what did I just say here recently again, after saying it to the point, no doubt, of horrifying tedium?
KILL YOUR TELEVISION!
OK, don’t kill it; maybe when SHTF, some local nooz outlet will let us know that those noises we hear outside are gunshots and the lights are out permanently. But at least turn the friggin’ thing off, except for NFL season and womens’ beach volleyball.
@MrAtoz; incidentally, Mrs. OFD is in your beeyooteeful city this weekend for a “mandatory” conference, i.e., managerial bullshit that they make her go to periodically. She ain’t happy about it, after just finishing a week in southeastern KY and being under the weather with some kind of bug plus exhaustion.
So if you spot a 5’10” redhead with blue eyes stumbling around downtown and looking pissed off, that’s her.
lol MrsAtoz departs at 6pm for OK, CA, UT back to Vegas then back to CA on a week long goat rope.
Mrs. OFD leaves Lost Wages tomorrow afternoon and gets back to VT very late and stays at her mom’s place thirty miles south of here overnight. Home until a week from tomorrow, when she departs for Denver, and after that, Kalifornia again. Next month we’ll both drive down to Woostah, MA, and stay at an air-b-n-b house in Whitinsville, where I spent my formative years learning the King’s English, and how to do basic arithmetic and socialize with other little urchins. I plan to stop by the Whitinsville Social Library for a visit; it’s where I did ten book reports one summer when I was around six or seven, for the Summer Reading Program, and got a “Readers Are Leaders” enameled pin from the Library Club of America, which I’ve since lost. Also probably take a tour through the old Whitin Machine Works, where my dad worked in the boiler room all those years ago.
This is why we order shoes on-line.
Read the linked-to article, then read the blog comments.
The saddest aspect? It’s all soooooo predictable! 🙁
I saw an ad online recently for new athletic shoes/sneaks that take the place of that fitness tracker gizmo peeps wear on their wrists or their dicks or whatever. Again, I’m old-skool; a friggin’ shoe is a shoe, a sneaker is a sneaker, but make sure they fit ya good. I discovered rather late in life that no, I didn’t take an 11AAA anymore, and my feet always hurt. Kid at the Lenny’s Shoe and Apparel store had me try on the wide puppies, and BINGO! So now it’s 11E apparently.
Would OFD ever stand in line for hours to buy a sneaker or a new smartypants phone? There’s an infinitely better chance that I’d become an imam or a tranny. Or maybe a tranny imam.
Story from my son, ex Marine, turned small town cop.
Range day and the whole force (7 officers minus dispatch) were going through qualification. The junior officer, a young, shapely blond, who often did late night ride-alongs with the chief so he could “show her the ropes” was having trouble at the bench. She loudly announced in frustration that “There is something wrong with these bullets”. My son went over to assist and found her vainly trying to put .45 acp into her S&W M&P .40 cal magazine. She swore they fit last time. She never did qual but stayed on the force till someone told her husband what was what.
“My son went over to assist and found her vainly trying to put .45 acp into her S&W M&P .40 cal magazine. She swore they fit last time.”
Well, let’s hope, I guess, that the condoms she put on the chief on those ride-alongs fit correctly, at least.
I had a nephew order a pair of Air Jordans, several years ago. His parents found the idea stupid, so he saved up his pocket money for ages, until he could afford them. At the time, they cost something crazy, like CHF 200, this for a pair of canvas sneakers?!
Anyhow, he got them. Within a week, they were falling apart – totally crappy quality. I think that’s what you call “one of life’s little lessons”.