Yes yes, I know that I said a few months back that I was embarking on a project and actually asked you guys for some opinions, and then nothing came of it.
And I know, my blogging has been horridly light here as of late. I know. I am just a terrible blog mistress. But then again, there isn't a whole lot to blog about.
On to new business!
For those of you that know me well, you know I am a massive Star Wars geek. I am one with the Force, motherfuckers, embracing the Dark Side and all the powers promised therein.
Neeeerd!
Yes yes. I know.
Continuing on...
Well, since my mind is wrapped up quite firmly in a galaxy far, far away, I decided that, in lieu of actual content HERE, you could check out a new side project being written not only by myself, but along with my good friend Blaidd Drwg, a real-life friend from back home in MO!
He got me started on Star Wars stories and books, not to mention games coming out of my ears, so when the Force spoke to me, whispering the words "Letters from Korriban... a Sith blog...", I was compelled to obey, and immediately sought him out. He would know what to do.
And he did. And thanks to him, Letters From Korriban is now online. If you're a Star Wars nerd, or you're looking for something different to read, go over and click the link in my side bar for a fun little read.
Hope you like it, and may the Force be with you!
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Friday, October 7, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Stylish Blogging!
So, because this guy over here tagged me for this award for STYLE, ya'll, and there has been a depressing LACK of content, and it's easy filler..... You get the picture.
The rules are name seven things my readers probably don't know about me, then tag fifteen people to do the same. Simple enough.
1 - I make a lot of noise and act intimidating, but I have never once gotten into a hands-on fight. My dad subtly taught me that growing up. I'm obnoxious as all hell, and I'll get in your face and possibly shove you, but when the circle closes around you and the fists start to fly, I am a spineless coward and will run the fuck away.
2 - As a teenager (and a very anti-social one at that), I participated in sports. Not in high school, though. Fuck no, that would require me actually getting along with people, and we all know I'm no good at that. No, all the sports I participated in were in a wheelchair. With my father being the president of the local Lion's Club (who is known for their involvement with the (handicapped? Disabled?) community) and the fact that he himself grew up in a wheelchair due to CP (More irony that Mike tagged me here and I ended up talking about my dad...), it's no surprised I grew up playing football, basketball, and rugby strapped in a chair. It kept me out of trouble, and I made a lot of friends that really shaped the way I live my life.
3 - I have got some big fucking feet, for a girl. I wear a women's size 11.5 shoe. It makes finding a comfortable pair of shoes a bitch, and finding comfortable shoes that I will actually wear and can AFFORD (Cuz I'm a broke bitch, ya'll) damn near impossible. It's amazing at all that I found my favorite pair of boots for less than $50 after shipping, and they fit me *perfectly*.
4 - I am a coffee whore. I could not make it through the day without drinking multiple pots of it. And I'll drink a pot of coffee and immediately go to sleep. But I'm a snobby coffee whore. I'm always on the lookout for the next delicious bag of liquid heaven that I can't afford. Because I'm difficult to buy gifts for, my family has taken to just giving me Starbucks gift cards, and I'll go find a flavor that piques my interest. I'm not saying Starbucks is the be-all, end-all of coffee. Truth be told, I love Gloria Jeans the most... but they're all the way up in the mall in Independence, and that's a lot of expensive gas for my truck to burn.
5 - I was raped when I was 18 that resulted in me paying a visit to Planned Parenthood for an abortion. I was living with a man who I lied to myself and told myself he loved me. He was a raging alcoholic and developed a drug problem after I moved in with him, but I desperately did not want to live under my father's overprotective restrictions, so I dealt with it. I dealt with a lot of abuse and kept convincing myself to stay, but one day he came home from work with two coworkers, all boozed up. They tied me up and raped me, and instead of calling the cops after they untied me and left, I called my mother to come get me, and I moved home. I didn't talk to anyone for months, and I rarely left my bedroom. I think my father was considering having me committed. Neither of my parents ever knew this happened. This also explains my *intense* dislike and distrust for Mexicans. The other two guys were illegal.
6 - I will be straight-forward, brassy, and bold when I talk to a new person for the first time. And being the nerd I am, this is usually on the internet. But the moment you meet me face-to-face, I will clam up and turn quiet and shy. Blogorado was a perfect example of this: that first night, I was quiet and shy and stuck to a corner and tried not to interact too much because I was terrified of somehow managing to offend all these people that I admired so much. And we're not even going to get into the implications of tension when I'm in this situation with a guy.
7 - I am all about texture and the sensation of touch. I can't eat greasy foods because of this, and certain fabrics drive me insane and I can't wear them. All those chicks that love the feeling of crushed velvet under their fingers? Yeah, get that shit away from me, it weirds me the fuck out.
That was way harder than I thought it would be.
Okay, so let's see if I can come up with fifteen people to tag... Hmmm....
Salamander
Crystal
DaddyBear
Rauðbjorn
JRebel
MattG
pdb
Squeaky
Wai
Sabra
Okay, I tried to tag as many people as I could that hadn't done this yet. Everybody in our circle is pretty damned stylish, yanno?
Happy blogging, folks!
The rules are name seven things my readers probably don't know about me, then tag fifteen people to do the same. Simple enough.
1 - I make a lot of noise and act intimidating, but I have never once gotten into a hands-on fight. My dad subtly taught me that growing up. I'm obnoxious as all hell, and I'll get in your face and possibly shove you, but when the circle closes around you and the fists start to fly, I am a spineless coward and will run the fuck away.
2 - As a teenager (and a very anti-social one at that), I participated in sports. Not in high school, though. Fuck no, that would require me actually getting along with people, and we all know I'm no good at that. No, all the sports I participated in were in a wheelchair. With my father being the president of the local Lion's Club (who is known for their involvement with the (handicapped? Disabled?) community) and the fact that he himself grew up in a wheelchair due to CP (More irony that Mike tagged me here and I ended up talking about my dad...), it's no surprised I grew up playing football, basketball, and rugby strapped in a chair. It kept me out of trouble, and I made a lot of friends that really shaped the way I live my life.
3 - I have got some big fucking feet, for a girl. I wear a women's size 11.5 shoe. It makes finding a comfortable pair of shoes a bitch, and finding comfortable shoes that I will actually wear and can AFFORD (Cuz I'm a broke bitch, ya'll) damn near impossible. It's amazing at all that I found my favorite pair of boots for less than $50 after shipping, and they fit me *perfectly*.
4 - I am a coffee whore. I could not make it through the day without drinking multiple pots of it. And I'll drink a pot of coffee and immediately go to sleep. But I'm a snobby coffee whore. I'm always on the lookout for the next delicious bag of liquid heaven that I can't afford. Because I'm difficult to buy gifts for, my family has taken to just giving me Starbucks gift cards, and I'll go find a flavor that piques my interest. I'm not saying Starbucks is the be-all, end-all of coffee. Truth be told, I love Gloria Jeans the most... but they're all the way up in the mall in Independence, and that's a lot of expensive gas for my truck to burn.
5 - I was raped when I was 18 that resulted in me paying a visit to Planned Parenthood for an abortion. I was living with a man who I lied to myself and told myself he loved me. He was a raging alcoholic and developed a drug problem after I moved in with him, but I desperately did not want to live under my father's overprotective restrictions, so I dealt with it. I dealt with a lot of abuse and kept convincing myself to stay, but one day he came home from work with two coworkers, all boozed up. They tied me up and raped me, and instead of calling the cops after they untied me and left, I called my mother to come get me, and I moved home. I didn't talk to anyone for months, and I rarely left my bedroom. I think my father was considering having me committed. Neither of my parents ever knew this happened. This also explains my *intense* dislike and distrust for Mexicans. The other two guys were illegal.
6 - I will be straight-forward, brassy, and bold when I talk to a new person for the first time. And being the nerd I am, this is usually on the internet. But the moment you meet me face-to-face, I will clam up and turn quiet and shy. Blogorado was a perfect example of this: that first night, I was quiet and shy and stuck to a corner and tried not to interact too much because I was terrified of somehow managing to offend all these people that I admired so much. And we're not even going to get into the implications of tension when I'm in this situation with a guy.
7 - I am all about texture and the sensation of touch. I can't eat greasy foods because of this, and certain fabrics drive me insane and I can't wear them. All those chicks that love the feeling of crushed velvet under their fingers? Yeah, get that shit away from me, it weirds me the fuck out.
That was way harder than I thought it would be.
Okay, so let's see if I can come up with fifteen people to tag... Hmmm....
Salamander
Crystal
DaddyBear
Rauðbjorn
JRebel
MattG
pdb
Squeaky
Wai
Sabra
Okay, I tried to tag as many people as I could that hadn't done this yet. Everybody in our circle is pretty damned stylish, yanno?
Happy blogging, folks!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Oh, Hey!
I didn't realize it, but last week, on December 5th, was my one year Blogiversary!
105 posts
2,731 visits
4,700 page views
I'm making good progress. :)
Happy blogiversary to me!
105 posts
2,731 visits
4,700 page views
I'm making good progress. :)
Happy blogiversary to me!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Going Mobile
Well, Blogger has this thing you can do: mobile blogging. And given how many random ass thoughts I have during the day, where I immediately think, "Wow, that's pretty cool, I should blog that later."
And then, yanno, I forget.
So, I'm gonna set up the mobile blog thing, and every now and then, BAM! Snark's Mouth content on the go.
Means you don't have to follow me on Twitter, cuz I know how irritating some people find it. Now, you can just check back here to see what I'm pondering/doing/whatever during the day when I'm away.
Neat, ain't it?
And then, yanno, I forget.
So, I'm gonna set up the mobile blog thing, and every now and then, BAM! Snark's Mouth content on the go.
Means you don't have to follow me on Twitter, cuz I know how irritating some people find it. Now, you can just check back here to see what I'm pondering/doing/whatever during the day when I'm away.
Neat, ain't it?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Blogorado, Day Four - Monday's Good-byes
Monday. Most of us were heading out today. I woke up greatly saddened by this fact. I had enjoyed myself so much, had so much fun, and made great friends with people I had never dreamed of meeting. I didn't know when I would next have the chance of seeing any of them, and I was dreading saying good-bye.
My mind was packed full of the memories we had made this weekend: the guns, the laughs, the sheer amount of fun. It should have been illegal to have that much of a good time in one weekend.
Don't get me wrong: I missed my home and those in it, but these crazy people with guns on their hips and smiles in their steps were a whole other family for me, and I missed them already.
I made sure my bags were packed, stacked in a corner and ready to go after breakfast was done with, and donning my sweater, I ambled over to the cafe.
People filed in, and I don't know if saying good-bye weighed as heavily on their minds as it did on mine (or maybe I'm just a softie like that), but they didn't let it stop anyone from having one last good time.
More jokes, more crude humor, lots of laughs, good food and coffee were had, while several of us exchanged phone numbers for keeping in touch. Many had not wanted to give out their numbers, no matter how close we had gotten without coming face-to-face, but that weekend had changed all of it.
Phlegmmy and LawDog were the first to leave, for they had a longer drive than we did and had things to do. I gave them each a hug, opined about how truly amazing it was to have met them, and bade them farewell, only to find out a few minutes later that they had picked up mine and FarmGirl's tab.
Hearts of gold and very giving people, these folks were.
FarmGirl and I announced that we had to be hitting the road, for it was a long drive to the airport for me to get home. More hugs were had all around, a few more pictures were taken, and everyone was gushing about how great it was to finally meet each other, or how awesome it was to see someone again. I almost felt as if I would cry.
The drive to the airport was not as quiet as the one to the FarmHouse was, being more comfortable in each other's presence as FarmGirl and I had grown. She talked about her horse, Monkey, and what it was like at her school; she told me of the other blogmeet she had gone to that Phlegmmy had hosted, and a variety of other subjects.
Before too much longer, we arrived at the airport, FarmGirl dropping me off at the curb, and I checked my bags in. The flight was uneventful, but I had a copy of AD's book to read on the ride home, so I wasn't too horribly bored.
Kansas City is beautiful from the air, I will say that much. A sea of glittering lights.
I had a great time, and I sincerely hope that some time in the near future, I can repeat the experience: meet new friends, see old ones again, shoot a lot of guns, and laugh until I feel my sides will split right open.
The range is hot!
My mind was packed full of the memories we had made this weekend: the guns, the laughs, the sheer amount of fun. It should have been illegal to have that much of a good time in one weekend.
Don't get me wrong: I missed my home and those in it, but these crazy people with guns on their hips and smiles in their steps were a whole other family for me, and I missed them already.
I made sure my bags were packed, stacked in a corner and ready to go after breakfast was done with, and donning my sweater, I ambled over to the cafe.
People filed in, and I don't know if saying good-bye weighed as heavily on their minds as it did on mine (or maybe I'm just a softie like that), but they didn't let it stop anyone from having one last good time.
More jokes, more crude humor, lots of laughs, good food and coffee were had, while several of us exchanged phone numbers for keeping in touch. Many had not wanted to give out their numbers, no matter how close we had gotten without coming face-to-face, but that weekend had changed all of it.
Phlegmmy and LawDog were the first to leave, for they had a longer drive than we did and had things to do. I gave them each a hug, opined about how truly amazing it was to have met them, and bade them farewell, only to find out a few minutes later that they had picked up mine and FarmGirl's tab.
Hearts of gold and very giving people, these folks were.
FarmGirl and I announced that we had to be hitting the road, for it was a long drive to the airport for me to get home. More hugs were had all around, a few more pictures were taken, and everyone was gushing about how great it was to finally meet each other, or how awesome it was to see someone again. I almost felt as if I would cry.
The drive to the airport was not as quiet as the one to the FarmHouse was, being more comfortable in each other's presence as FarmGirl and I had grown. She talked about her horse, Monkey, and what it was like at her school; she told me of the other blogmeet she had gone to that Phlegmmy had hosted, and a variety of other subjects.
Before too much longer, we arrived at the airport, FarmGirl dropping me off at the curb, and I checked my bags in. The flight was uneventful, but I had a copy of AD's book to read on the ride home, so I wasn't too horribly bored.
Kansas City is beautiful from the air, I will say that much. A sea of glittering lights.
I had a great time, and I sincerely hope that some time in the near future, I can repeat the experience: meet new friends, see old ones again, shoot a lot of guns, and laugh until I feel my sides will split right open.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Blogorado, Day Four - Sunday
Sunday! Last day of shooting! Not gonna lie, I was chomping at the bit to get back out to the range. If you listened to the Brady Bunch, that horrifying bloodlust that accompanies shooting a gun had seized hold of me, and I was thirsty for the liquid life.
Which is a load of complete bullshit, but I was eager to enjoy some more shooty goodness.
Dinking around on the computer while Christina took a morning shower, I forgot that the time on my computer's clock was different from local time. It said it was almost 9 AM, so I hustled my keister over to the cafe for breakfast, to discover the place nearly empty, with only three people there.
FarmGirl introduced me and I shook hands with MattG and JPG, in awe of the gentle giant and his charming father. More quiet conversation was had as people slowly trickled in, ordering coffee to fuel themselves up for the day. After all, we were planning to exhaust ourselves out at the range.
I stepped outside for a cigarette where Salamander informed me that he would not be able to join us for today's festivities. The Newt was still sick and he had to be getting home to tend to his child. With a farewell hug, we sent him on his way, then began the migration out towards the range.
YAY!
Breda was immediately handed the biggest handgun I had yet seen, and I stared in awe as this little slip of a woman fire round after round, watching what looked like recoil from hell after each shot. And then the other shooty n00b took a turn: Christina! I would show pictures, but some people like to remain anonymous on the internet, and I shall respect their wishes. :) I do have a picture of the gun in question though.
Super Blackhawk, wut?
A picture that would make the Brady Bunch spontaneously combust!
Yummy!
Mizz Phlegmmy deemed it safe to pose for a picture, so I immortalized her in digital form, displaying all of her charm in one smile.
I felt truly blessed to have met her, I really did. I adored her! I mean, I adored everybody, but she was something else, she really was.
It wasn't too much longer before I was drawn to the rifle range again, eyeballing Jim with his AR once more. That's right, I wanted another turn at that pretty pup, and he was kind enough to oblige me while Breda was nice enough to take pictures with my camera.
I f*cking love that gun. Maybe Santa will bring me one for Christmas? I promise, I've been good!!
Breda rocked the SKS like nobody's business, of course....
My shoulder was aching at this point. After spending all day shooting guns I was unaccustomed to, and then sleeping on it, I was in a fair amount of pain. But oh, it hurt so good. The lovely librarian saw me rubbing at the red spot on my skin, and pulled her shirt down to show some lovely bruises.
Of course, it got Jim's attention, and he immediately took pictures, as did I.
And of course, this picture was taken accompanied by words that Jim repeated often enough during the weekend: "Okay, give me angry, I want to see angry!"
Then I realized the very appropriate shirt that Stingray was wearing and had to take a picture of it.
We adjourned for lunch then, most of us bickering over the limited chairs that were available. AD stole my spot, then sweetly offered his own chair to me, with the Longhorns logo emblazoned across the back of it. I badmouthed the foul team, raising nine kinds of hell with AD for even thinking to offer that seat to the daughter of an Aggie, and then KatyBeth chimed in, agreeing with her father. She was too cute to punish for her impudence, though.
Right as everyone was finished stuffing their faces, a couple of the gentlemen reappeared, announcing that for the snipers on the rifle table, there were new targets set up on the opposite side of the range: 55-gallon barrels were placed at 500 yards and 950 yards, and most people took turns at them. I was not brave enough to try, but I did stand back and cheer folks on as they rotated through the snipers. Memorable quote of the moment came from Stingray, directed towards Breda.
"Almost a thousand yards, and you got it on your second fucking pull!"
There's a reason we call her the World's Most Dangerous Librarian.
Afterwards, I don't know what possessed AEPilotJim, but he decided he wanted to play dress-up with Breda.
That's Jim's M14 she's holding (which is almost as long as she is tall), and that sash she's wearing? Yeah, that's his belt and holster. We couldn't cinch it up tight enough to fit around her waist, so she had to wear it like that. We were all giggling about these pictures, of course.
Breda decided she would mosey back over to the pistol range while it was deserted, and I chose to follow, making a quick stop where everybody was set up with the clays and shotguns to ask Mr. Stingray if he would be so kind as to let me shoot his hand cannon. The day before it was quite intimidating, but I knew I'd be kicking myself for eternity if I didn't shoot it at least once. He said he'd be over shortly, because I was not familiar with wheelguns and did not know how to load it.
Whilst waiting for him to come down to let me play with his toy (boy, that sounds dirty, don't it?), I gazed quite longingly at Alan's full-auto. "Can I shoot it?" I asked.
"Here," he said, and handed me a box of ammo and a magazine to load.
And then he fired a magazine, I fired one, and Breda shot it once more.
SQUEEE!!
Oh, that was fun to shoot.
Back over on the rifle side, they called the range cold and tacked up a bag of Tannerite to one of the target backdrops. Christina and I each took position on a rifle and they cut us loose, telling us to hit the black bag on the wooden board.
KABOOM!
I nailed it that time, and when it exploded, my grin was positively feral, I was so thoroughly pleased.
This is what was left of the board the tannerite was stuck on, once we tore down the range.
And yes, that really is Jim's face. I was SHOCKED, I really was. But he's so damned cuddly!
After we called both ranges cold and the FarmFam announced it was time to pack up and go home, before it got too dark to see, Jim made a brass call.
"Anybody want to help pick up these shells, for those of us that reload ammo?"
I stared at him stupidly. Then snuck away to Alan's truck, where Breda was resting, and chatted with her amiably for a few minutes. I mentioned the brass call.
"Is he fucking serious? After all we've fired? Are you kidding me?"
Yeah, that's what I thought too.
KatyBeth decided she wanted to ride back into town with Mizz Christina, so I piled into AD's truck with him and GayCynic, and promptly passed out in the backseat.
Hey, I was TIRED, man!
Then there was the deer incident (See also: here, here, here, and the best of all, here).
Once everybody made it back into town, Christina and I with custody of little miss KatyBeth, we knocked on Breda's door to inform her and Alan (because those two seemed to be attached at the hip sometimes) of what had happened. Then we high-tailed it over to the FarmHouse, laptop in tow because I just had to be the first to blog about the deer incident, just as LawDog and Phlegmmy arrived. Phlegmmy asked if I had uploaded the pictures, and asked ever-so-politely if she could borrow my laptop to put up a picture. I, being the ever-giving soul that I am, allowed her, resulting in this lovely post over here.
We had pot roast, potato casserole, and delicious vegetables for dinner, with more of the diabetic-coma-inducing cheesecake brownies, and Atomic Beer, of course. The Nerds arrived with a freshly-cleaned AD, sporting the best tacticool attachment for any rifle EVAR.
Many jokes were had about "Super Scrappy Nibbles", and then we all settled down to BS some more, stuff our faces with delicious home cooking, and Christina vanished to give more massages, as she did every night.
Time wore on, people called it a night, and FarmGirl dragged out the fire pit to set up outside the garage. Stingray, Labrat, Jim, and I, all huddled around the flame, trying to avoid a faceful of smoke. Talk was quiet, moods were restful, all was well.
The temperature kept dropping, and I was running out of energy, so I asked Jim if he would walk with me back to the motel. We chatted more as we walked and said goodnight outside of our respective motel rooms.
Christina still wasn't home yet, so I crawled into bed and passed out. I had to get some sleep, for early in the morning, FarmGirl and I had to get on the road to the airport so I could go home.
Which is a load of complete bullshit, but I was eager to enjoy some more shooty goodness.
Dinking around on the computer while Christina took a morning shower, I forgot that the time on my computer's clock was different from local time. It said it was almost 9 AM, so I hustled my keister over to the cafe for breakfast, to discover the place nearly empty, with only three people there.
FarmGirl introduced me and I shook hands with MattG and JPG, in awe of the gentle giant and his charming father. More quiet conversation was had as people slowly trickled in, ordering coffee to fuel themselves up for the day. After all, we were planning to exhaust ourselves out at the range.
I stepped outside for a cigarette where Salamander informed me that he would not be able to join us for today's festivities. The Newt was still sick and he had to be getting home to tend to his child. With a farewell hug, we sent him on his way, then began the migration out towards the range.
YAY!
Breda was immediately handed the biggest handgun I had yet seen, and I stared in awe as this little slip of a woman fire round after round, watching what looked like recoil from hell after each shot. And then the other shooty n00b took a turn: Christina! I would show pictures, but some people like to remain anonymous on the internet, and I shall respect their wishes. :) I do have a picture of the gun in question though.
Super Blackhawk, wut?
A picture that would make the Brady Bunch spontaneously combust!
Yummy!
Mizz Phlegmmy deemed it safe to pose for a picture, so I immortalized her in digital form, displaying all of her charm in one smile.
I felt truly blessed to have met her, I really did. I adored her! I mean, I adored everybody, but she was something else, she really was.
It wasn't too much longer before I was drawn to the rifle range again, eyeballing Jim with his AR once more. That's right, I wanted another turn at that pretty pup, and he was kind enough to oblige me while Breda was nice enough to take pictures with my camera.
I f*cking love that gun. Maybe Santa will bring me one for Christmas? I promise, I've been good!!
Breda rocked the SKS like nobody's business, of course....
My shoulder was aching at this point. After spending all day shooting guns I was unaccustomed to, and then sleeping on it, I was in a fair amount of pain. But oh, it hurt so good. The lovely librarian saw me rubbing at the red spot on my skin, and pulled her shirt down to show some lovely bruises.
Of course, it got Jim's attention, and he immediately took pictures, as did I.
And of course, this picture was taken accompanied by words that Jim repeated often enough during the weekend: "Okay, give me angry, I want to see angry!"
Then I realized the very appropriate shirt that Stingray was wearing and had to take a picture of it.
We adjourned for lunch then, most of us bickering over the limited chairs that were available. AD stole my spot, then sweetly offered his own chair to me, with the Longhorns logo emblazoned across the back of it. I badmouthed the foul team, raising nine kinds of hell with AD for even thinking to offer that seat to the daughter of an Aggie, and then KatyBeth chimed in, agreeing with her father. She was too cute to punish for her impudence, though.
Right as everyone was finished stuffing their faces, a couple of the gentlemen reappeared, announcing that for the snipers on the rifle table, there were new targets set up on the opposite side of the range: 55-gallon barrels were placed at 500 yards and 950 yards, and most people took turns at them. I was not brave enough to try, but I did stand back and cheer folks on as they rotated through the snipers. Memorable quote of the moment came from Stingray, directed towards Breda.
"Almost a thousand yards, and you got it on your second fucking pull!"
There's a reason we call her the World's Most Dangerous Librarian.
Afterwards, I don't know what possessed AEPilotJim, but he decided he wanted to play dress-up with Breda.
That's Jim's M14 she's holding (which is almost as long as she is tall), and that sash she's wearing? Yeah, that's his belt and holster. We couldn't cinch it up tight enough to fit around her waist, so she had to wear it like that. We were all giggling about these pictures, of course.
Breda decided she would mosey back over to the pistol range while it was deserted, and I chose to follow, making a quick stop where everybody was set up with the clays and shotguns to ask Mr. Stingray if he would be so kind as to let me shoot his hand cannon. The day before it was quite intimidating, but I knew I'd be kicking myself for eternity if I didn't shoot it at least once. He said he'd be over shortly, because I was not familiar with wheelguns and did not know how to load it.
Whilst waiting for him to come down to let me play with his toy (boy, that sounds dirty, don't it?), I gazed quite longingly at Alan's full-auto. "Can I shoot it?" I asked.
"Here," he said, and handed me a box of ammo and a magazine to load.
And then he fired a magazine, I fired one, and Breda shot it once more.
SQUEEE!!
Oh, that was fun to shoot.
Back over on the rifle side, they called the range cold and tacked up a bag of Tannerite to one of the target backdrops. Christina and I each took position on a rifle and they cut us loose, telling us to hit the black bag on the wooden board.
KABOOM!
I nailed it that time, and when it exploded, my grin was positively feral, I was so thoroughly pleased.
This is what was left of the board the tannerite was stuck on, once we tore down the range.
And yes, that really is Jim's face. I was SHOCKED, I really was. But he's so damned cuddly!
After we called both ranges cold and the FarmFam announced it was time to pack up and go home, before it got too dark to see, Jim made a brass call.
"Anybody want to help pick up these shells, for those of us that reload ammo?"
I stared at him stupidly. Then snuck away to Alan's truck, where Breda was resting, and chatted with her amiably for a few minutes. I mentioned the brass call.
"Is he fucking serious? After all we've fired? Are you kidding me?"
Yeah, that's what I thought too.
KatyBeth decided she wanted to ride back into town with Mizz Christina, so I piled into AD's truck with him and GayCynic, and promptly passed out in the backseat.
Hey, I was TIRED, man!
Then there was the deer incident (See also: here, here, here, and the best of all, here).
Once everybody made it back into town, Christina and I with custody of little miss KatyBeth, we knocked on Breda's door to inform her and Alan (because those two seemed to be attached at the hip sometimes) of what had happened. Then we high-tailed it over to the FarmHouse, laptop in tow because I just had to be the first to blog about the deer incident, just as LawDog and Phlegmmy arrived. Phlegmmy asked if I had uploaded the pictures, and asked ever-so-politely if she could borrow my laptop to put up a picture. I, being the ever-giving soul that I am, allowed her, resulting in this lovely post over here.
We had pot roast, potato casserole, and delicious vegetables for dinner, with more of the diabetic-coma-inducing cheesecake brownies, and Atomic Beer, of course. The Nerds arrived with a freshly-cleaned AD, sporting the best tacticool attachment for any rifle EVAR.
Many jokes were had about "Super Scrappy Nibbles", and then we all settled down to BS some more, stuff our faces with delicious home cooking, and Christina vanished to give more massages, as she did every night.
Time wore on, people called it a night, and FarmGirl dragged out the fire pit to set up outside the garage. Stingray, Labrat, Jim, and I, all huddled around the flame, trying to avoid a faceful of smoke. Talk was quiet, moods were restful, all was well.
The temperature kept dropping, and I was running out of energy, so I asked Jim if he would walk with me back to the motel. We chatted more as we walked and said goodnight outside of our respective motel rooms.
Christina still wasn't home yet, so I crawled into bed and passed out. I had to get some sleep, for early in the morning, FarmGirl and I had to get on the road to the airport so I could go home.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Blogorado, Day Three - Saturday
Saturday morning dawned as comfortable as the previous days, though I did not wake up at the ass-crack of dawn this time. Christina was going about her morning ablutions, and I was sprawled across my bed, wasting time in the GBC like I always do. Salamander announced that he had made it into town last night (or some time in the wee hours of the morning, same thing) and that he was at Such-and-Such Motel... right behind mine!
So, of course, I wandered over and stood around, waiting for him to come outside, because I did not know who I was looking for. I had never met these people before, and though I recognized a few from pictures I'd seen on the internet (or met in real life that one time), this was a whole new ball game for me. The managers of the motel yelled across the parking lot if I needed help, seeing me standing there lookin' all lost and retarded, and I yelled back that no, I was just waiting for a friend to come out because I did not know which room he was in. And then, out stepped Sal!
We greeted and hugged, and stepped into his room while he squee'd all over the GBC about meeting another blogger, before logging off to accompany me to breakfast. We moseyed (is that even a real word?) over to the little cafe where everyone had agreed that we would breakfast every morning, and upon arrival, I announced, "Look what I found!" Introductions were made all around, coffee was ordered by everyone except AD and his daughter, and then the FarmParents showed up with their grandson, FarmGirl's nephew, in tow, who would be there to play with KatyBeth. It's so nice to have someone your own age to play with, right?
After breakfast, we all caravaned out to the FarmFam House once more, drank some more coffee, and stood around shuffling our feet for only a little bit. The message was clear, written on everyone's faces: we were anxious to go get some much-loved recoil therapy. Finally, the message went out: Load up! Let's go!
And out to the range we went.
AD had informed me on the ride back in the day before that he had brought several guns specifically for teaching me and Christina how to shoot, so I knew who to stick close to. That, and I knew him the best, considering how I fangirl'd over him for so long and met him a few months back. He's my buddy, it's true.
For a while after we got to the range, everyone was doing last-minute set-up: loading magazines, organizing ammo and guns on tables, and people were wandering from truck to truck to see what was offered before it all got laid out. Christina and I, seeing as we didn't have any guns to shoot of our own, stood around looking useless before volunteering ourselves for mag-loading duty. AD set a box in front of us and several magazines and set us to task, and pretty soon, all was ready.
Some people decided they wanted to shoot at the rifle range first, so I stood around to watch and take some pictures for a moment before boogeying over to the pistol range to let some rounds fly.
That AR-15? Yeah, I fell in love with that pretty baby. I gotta get me one of them!
After a few minutes of watching them shoot the rifles, I followed the crowd over to the pistol range, where AD began to give lessons to Christina and I on the various guns he had brought for exactly that reason. We shot several .22s, and then he broke out his Glock 17 and handed it off to us. We took turns putting rounds through it, and my hand stung slightly afterwards, not being used to the recoil of something more than .22.
I saw Sal standing back at the table, and I peeked over his shoulder to see what he had.
"I only brought my new 1911 and enough ammo for this."
That, my darling readers, is a handful of happy. What a pretty sight!
People would step up to the lines, take aim, and fire, going for either paper targets, fall-down poppers, or metal plates on a shelf. After everything was down, someone would call the range cold, and while they were picking up plates and poppers, everyone else would shuffle back to the table to reload or pick up a different firearm to shoot.
At some point, I migrated back over to the rifle range and parking area, breezing right past a table set up with leftovers for lunch, to see a few folks sitting around chowing down. "Where's the food at?" "That table you just walked by."
D'oh!
Fixed myself a plate and sat down, chewing the fat with FarmMom while chewing her delicious food, when I happened to look up and see a cloud of dust up on the road.
"Somebody's coming."
"That's probably Phlegmmy and LawDog."
Omigawd! Christina was about to flip her shit, for sure. Her and Phlegmmy are great friends, and they were excited about finally getting to meet face-to-face.
They arrived, and Christina did the honor of introducing me to Phlegmmy while LawDog bounced around from person to person. Another one of the first bloggers I read, was he, and I was a might nervous about meeting him, and said as much to Phlegmmy, who promptly called him over for introductions.
Such lovely people!
While we all ate, and the newcomers set up their offerings to the Gun Gods, Salamander raised his pants legs for an interesting shot of his knee beards.
(Picture courtesy of Stingray)
Uhm. Interesting growth there, Sal.
After stuffing our faces, we were eager, of course, to return to the shooting. Back on the pistol range, Alan broke out this pretty toy:
I wouldn't get to shoot it until Sunday, but it was nice to gawk at. Fully automatic, wut.
My head is just... spinning with all the different guns that were shot, I can't even begin to keep them all straight, I really can't.
Over at the rifle range once more, I watched AEPilotJim shoot his AR-15 once more, and when he emptied the magazine it was holding, he turned to see a forlorn expression on my face.
"You want to shoot it?"
"I thought you'd never ask!"
He showed me how to load the magazine and snap it into place, where the safety was, and how the sight worked, then turned me loose to have some fun.
Oh. My. God.
I'm in love.
Want. Want very bad. WAAAAAAAAANT.
Breda took a seat at the rifle table in front of one of the M24 snipers, and went to town at the 240 yard half-size target (effectively a 500 yard shot, I'm informed). Couldn't resist snapping a pic of that, of course.
While everyone was gathered around watching Breda on the sniper, I saw Sal sneak off by himself to the pistol range, and being the nosey little brat I am, followed to see what the deal was.
He was getting some one-on-one time with his Les Baer 1911, which he offered to let me try. Seeing as I had not yet had the opportunity to shoot something in .45 ACP, I gratefully accepted, and got 5 out of 7 on the popppers. First magazine through the first .45 I ever shot, not bad.
I now know which side of the Glock vs. 1911 argument I fall on, that's for sure.
At one point, I glanced over to discover that KatyBeth had grown bored with playing NCIS with someone her own age, and decided she wanted a turn, too!
People were migrating to and from the two ranges quite often, myself included, as once again I was back over at the pistol range. The sun was beginning to set, and everything had a lovely warm glow.
LabRat was standing off next to the pistol table, and I stepped up next to her, looking at all the guns spread out before me. "I want to shoot something, but I don't know what," I said to her.
"How about one of the wedding rings?" she asked, lifting the lid on a case that held the two beauties.
Don't gotta ask me twice.
I picked up the darker of the two and was informed it was Stingray's. I went to set it back down and go for hers, not wanting to offend the man I did not know very well by shooting his gun without permission, but she shook her head and handed me a magazine to load. "It's cool, just go for it."
I handed over my camera and stepped up, aimed, and fired! So nice!
Aim, squeeze... click. "What the?"
Rack the slide back, ejected the shell it didn't want to let go of, try again.
Click. Looked over at LabRat nervously, who approached to help me sort out this problem. "Papa Baer's been kind of bratty here lately," she said, handing me the gun back.
Okay, let's try one more time.
Aim, squeeze.... click. Wail. "LabRat! He hates me!"
She growled and manhandled Stingray's gun, uttering death threats before handing it back to me with a dark smile. After that, the gun behaved. Always fear Mama, for she has the power to END YOU.
The sun was dipping lower on the horizon and a chill was starting to set in, so we loaded up for the trek back into town. I rode back in with Salamander, bullshitting about this, that, and everything in between during the ride.
At one point, still on dirt and gravel road, we saw everyone had stopped. Alan and Breda had pulled off to the side, set the truck in park, and were sitting there contently watching the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. "We'll be back into town shortly," they told us, and on the rest of us went.
Being covered in dust and dirt, most of us stopped by our respective motel rooms to tidy up first. Christina, though she is a darling, always seems to take forever, so by the time we got over to the house for dinner, everyone else had arrived.
AD held out a platter to me. "Try a scrappy nibble."
And I made the mistake of trusting him. Little bite-sized deep fried chicken-nugget looking things. Can't be that bad. Popped one into my mouth and chewed. Chewy. Still, not too horribly bad. And then I saw the look on Breda's face, and Alan next to her trying so hard not to laugh. Realization dawned.
"What is this stuff?" I asked.
"Just finish eating it," Breda said quietly.
My eyes got big. "What is it?" I repeated urgently, slowing my chewing.
Breda shook her head, Alan looked like he was about to explode if he didn't let out his laughter, and AD said from (a safe distance) across the garage, "How you like those testicles, Snarky?"
I raged. I cursed. I gagged. God damn it!
Of course, Mamaw grabbed my arm a few minutes later after I had finally choked the Rocky Mountain Oysters down. "You want some more?"
Oh god no!
"Before you knew what they were, they tasted good, right?"
I feared I had offended her cooking. Of course ma'am, they were very good!
"Then eat some more. Regardless of what they are, they still taste good."
She had a point. So I ate some more. I will admit, they tasted good, but just the fact that I knew I was chewing on what used to be some calf's family jewels was a very off-putting thought.
More delicious food was consumed, this evening's meal being chicken fried steak, and we all made fun of Breda for never trying it. What do you expect of a Yankee?
I had not burned that much energy in a long time, and I was exhausted. I was not the only one: little KatyBeth was getting cranky from being tired as well, so after much ribbing about being a lightweight, for I had only drunk half a beer, and my indignant protests of bodily exhaustion and not drunken exhaustion, I caught a ride back to the motel, only to fall asleep with my laptop in my lap.
So. Damn. Tired.
But it was a good kind of tired.
I needed my rest. There was more shooting to come the next day, and more company. MattG and JPG were due to arrive the next day!
So, of course, I wandered over and stood around, waiting for him to come outside, because I did not know who I was looking for. I had never met these people before, and though I recognized a few from pictures I'd seen on the internet (or met in real life that one time), this was a whole new ball game for me. The managers of the motel yelled across the parking lot if I needed help, seeing me standing there lookin' all lost and retarded, and I yelled back that no, I was just waiting for a friend to come out because I did not know which room he was in. And then, out stepped Sal!
We greeted and hugged, and stepped into his room while he squee'd all over the GBC about meeting another blogger, before logging off to accompany me to breakfast. We moseyed (is that even a real word?) over to the little cafe where everyone had agreed that we would breakfast every morning, and upon arrival, I announced, "Look what I found!" Introductions were made all around, coffee was ordered by everyone except AD and his daughter, and then the FarmParents showed up with their grandson, FarmGirl's nephew, in tow, who would be there to play with KatyBeth. It's so nice to have someone your own age to play with, right?
After breakfast, we all caravaned out to the FarmFam House once more, drank some more coffee, and stood around shuffling our feet for only a little bit. The message was clear, written on everyone's faces: we were anxious to go get some much-loved recoil therapy. Finally, the message went out: Load up! Let's go!
And out to the range we went.
AD had informed me on the ride back in the day before that he had brought several guns specifically for teaching me and Christina how to shoot, so I knew who to stick close to. That, and I knew him the best, considering how I fangirl'd over him for so long and met him a few months back. He's my buddy, it's true.
For a while after we got to the range, everyone was doing last-minute set-up: loading magazines, organizing ammo and guns on tables, and people were wandering from truck to truck to see what was offered before it all got laid out. Christina and I, seeing as we didn't have any guns to shoot of our own, stood around looking useless before volunteering ourselves for mag-loading duty. AD set a box in front of us and several magazines and set us to task, and pretty soon, all was ready.
Some people decided they wanted to shoot at the rifle range first, so I stood around to watch and take some pictures for a moment before boogeying over to the pistol range to let some rounds fly.
That AR-15? Yeah, I fell in love with that pretty baby. I gotta get me one of them!
After a few minutes of watching them shoot the rifles, I followed the crowd over to the pistol range, where AD began to give lessons to Christina and I on the various guns he had brought for exactly that reason. We shot several .22s, and then he broke out his Glock 17 and handed it off to us. We took turns putting rounds through it, and my hand stung slightly afterwards, not being used to the recoil of something more than .22.
I saw Sal standing back at the table, and I peeked over his shoulder to see what he had.
"I only brought my new 1911 and enough ammo for this."
That, my darling readers, is a handful of happy. What a pretty sight!
People would step up to the lines, take aim, and fire, going for either paper targets, fall-down poppers, or metal plates on a shelf. After everything was down, someone would call the range cold, and while they were picking up plates and poppers, everyone else would shuffle back to the table to reload or pick up a different firearm to shoot.
At some point, I migrated back over to the rifle range and parking area, breezing right past a table set up with leftovers for lunch, to see a few folks sitting around chowing down. "Where's the food at?" "That table you just walked by."
D'oh!
Fixed myself a plate and sat down, chewing the fat with FarmMom while chewing her delicious food, when I happened to look up and see a cloud of dust up on the road.
"Somebody's coming."
"That's probably Phlegmmy and LawDog."
Omigawd! Christina was about to flip her shit, for sure. Her and Phlegmmy are great friends, and they were excited about finally getting to meet face-to-face.
They arrived, and Christina did the honor of introducing me to Phlegmmy while LawDog bounced around from person to person. Another one of the first bloggers I read, was he, and I was a might nervous about meeting him, and said as much to Phlegmmy, who promptly called him over for introductions.
Such lovely people!
While we all ate, and the newcomers set up their offerings to the Gun Gods, Salamander raised his pants legs for an interesting shot of his knee beards.
(Picture courtesy of Stingray)
Uhm. Interesting growth there, Sal.
After stuffing our faces, we were eager, of course, to return to the shooting. Back on the pistol range, Alan broke out this pretty toy:
I wouldn't get to shoot it until Sunday, but it was nice to gawk at. Fully automatic, wut.
My head is just... spinning with all the different guns that were shot, I can't even begin to keep them all straight, I really can't.
Over at the rifle range once more, I watched AEPilotJim shoot his AR-15 once more, and when he emptied the magazine it was holding, he turned to see a forlorn expression on my face.
"You want to shoot it?"
"I thought you'd never ask!"
He showed me how to load the magazine and snap it into place, where the safety was, and how the sight worked, then turned me loose to have some fun.
Oh. My. God.
I'm in love.
Want. Want very bad. WAAAAAAAAANT.
Breda took a seat at the rifle table in front of one of the M24 snipers, and went to town at the 240 yard half-size target (effectively a 500 yard shot, I'm informed). Couldn't resist snapping a pic of that, of course.
While everyone was gathered around watching Breda on the sniper, I saw Sal sneak off by himself to the pistol range, and being the nosey little brat I am, followed to see what the deal was.
He was getting some one-on-one time with his Les Baer 1911, which he offered to let me try. Seeing as I had not yet had the opportunity to shoot something in .45 ACP, I gratefully accepted, and got 5 out of 7 on the popppers. First magazine through the first .45 I ever shot, not bad.
I now know which side of the Glock vs. 1911 argument I fall on, that's for sure.
At one point, I glanced over to discover that KatyBeth had grown bored with playing NCIS with someone her own age, and decided she wanted a turn, too!
People were migrating to and from the two ranges quite often, myself included, as once again I was back over at the pistol range. The sun was beginning to set, and everything had a lovely warm glow.
LabRat was standing off next to the pistol table, and I stepped up next to her, looking at all the guns spread out before me. "I want to shoot something, but I don't know what," I said to her.
"How about one of the wedding rings?" she asked, lifting the lid on a case that held the two beauties.
Don't gotta ask me twice.
I picked up the darker of the two and was informed it was Stingray's. I went to set it back down and go for hers, not wanting to offend the man I did not know very well by shooting his gun without permission, but she shook her head and handed me a magazine to load. "It's cool, just go for it."
I handed over my camera and stepped up, aimed, and fired! So nice!
Aim, squeeze... click. "What the?"
Rack the slide back, ejected the shell it didn't want to let go of, try again.
Click. Looked over at LabRat nervously, who approached to help me sort out this problem. "Papa Baer's been kind of bratty here lately," she said, handing me the gun back.
Okay, let's try one more time.
Aim, squeeze.... click. Wail. "LabRat! He hates me!"
She growled and manhandled Stingray's gun, uttering death threats before handing it back to me with a dark smile. After that, the gun behaved. Always fear Mama, for she has the power to END YOU.
The sun was dipping lower on the horizon and a chill was starting to set in, so we loaded up for the trek back into town. I rode back in with Salamander, bullshitting about this, that, and everything in between during the ride.
At one point, still on dirt and gravel road, we saw everyone had stopped. Alan and Breda had pulled off to the side, set the truck in park, and were sitting there contently watching the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. "We'll be back into town shortly," they told us, and on the rest of us went.
Being covered in dust and dirt, most of us stopped by our respective motel rooms to tidy up first. Christina, though she is a darling, always seems to take forever, so by the time we got over to the house for dinner, everyone else had arrived.
AD held out a platter to me. "Try a scrappy nibble."
And I made the mistake of trusting him. Little bite-sized deep fried chicken-nugget looking things. Can't be that bad. Popped one into my mouth and chewed. Chewy. Still, not too horribly bad. And then I saw the look on Breda's face, and Alan next to her trying so hard not to laugh. Realization dawned.
"What is this stuff?" I asked.
"Just finish eating it," Breda said quietly.
My eyes got big. "What is it?" I repeated urgently, slowing my chewing.
Breda shook her head, Alan looked like he was about to explode if he didn't let out his laughter, and AD said from (a safe distance) across the garage, "How you like those testicles, Snarky?"
I raged. I cursed. I gagged. God damn it!
Of course, Mamaw grabbed my arm a few minutes later after I had finally choked the Rocky Mountain Oysters down. "You want some more?"
Oh god no!
"Before you knew what they were, they tasted good, right?"
I feared I had offended her cooking. Of course ma'am, they were very good!
"Then eat some more. Regardless of what they are, they still taste good."
She had a point. So I ate some more. I will admit, they tasted good, but just the fact that I knew I was chewing on what used to be some calf's family jewels was a very off-putting thought.
More delicious food was consumed, this evening's meal being chicken fried steak, and we all made fun of Breda for never trying it. What do you expect of a Yankee?
I had not burned that much energy in a long time, and I was exhausted. I was not the only one: little KatyBeth was getting cranky from being tired as well, so after much ribbing about being a lightweight, for I had only drunk half a beer, and my indignant protests of bodily exhaustion and not drunken exhaustion, I caught a ride back to the motel, only to fall asleep with my laptop in my lap.
So. Damn. Tired.
But it was a good kind of tired.
I needed my rest. There was more shooting to come the next day, and more company. MattG and JPG were due to arrive the next day!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Blogorado Weekend Report...
....will be forthcoming.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You want to hear AAAAAAAAAAALL about it. Trust me, I want to tell it to you.
I've been a bad Snarky, not blogging about it like I promised I would. Life has been mad crazy hectic since I got back: finals are coming up, the homework load for classes has skyrocketed, and apparently I was muchly missed here at home, because for the past week and a half since I came back from my trip, there have been people here EVERY DAY.
I promise, you'll hear all about it. Swear.
For now, I will leave you with this.
Who IS that sexy bitch? That gun just makes me want to bone the fuck out of her.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You want to hear AAAAAAAAAAALL about it. Trust me, I want to tell it to you.
I've been a bad Snarky, not blogging about it like I promised I would. Life has been mad crazy hectic since I got back: finals are coming up, the homework load for classes has skyrocketed, and apparently I was muchly missed here at home, because for the past week and a half since I came back from my trip, there have been people here EVERY DAY.
I promise, you'll hear all about it. Swear.
For now, I will leave you with this.
Who IS that sexy bitch? That gun just makes me want to bone the fuck out of her.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Excitement!
So, after a glorious day of flinging lead downrange, we were all headed back into town for dinner at FarmMom's. I was one happily exhausted Snarky, so I had immediately conked out in the back of AD's truck, with the big man himself driving (obviously), and Gay Cynic in the passenger seat.
It's dark, the truck is moving, I'm lulled to sleep, and all is well in my world.
"Oh FUCK!" *Swerve swerve CRUNCH* "Son of a bitch, where did it go?"
A lovely 8 pointer jumped across the road, and try as he might, poor AD was not able to completely avoid hitting it. It wasn't a complete disaster, the truck was not totaled, but it was going to need to be towed; the radiator reservoir was crunched, and it dumped it's fluid fast.
(click to embiggen)
That's the truck. Like I said, not too much damage. Here's the deer:
And, of course, the man who hit it. :D
The saddest part is the fact that, once we realized everybody was okay, nobody was hurt, the truck wasn't completely destroyed, and hey! Venison! We ended up throwing a nice party on the side of the highway, waiting for DOW and everybody else for official reasons.
The guy from the sheriff's department appeared right after we set up the head of the buck. Department of Wildlife said that they needed to keep the head of the buck, can't exactly remember why, so after removing it, we had some fun:
Yeah, he was a little weirded out by us. But by god, we had fun. We realized, thanks to FarmDad, that the damage was not extensive, and the Nerds had a powerful enough truck to tow Frankenhoopty somewhere to be worked on. Much fun was had.
Well, as much fun as was possible.
PS - Leave it to AD to hunt deer this way. We spend all day shooting guns, and he kills it with a truck. Silly boy.
It's dark, the truck is moving, I'm lulled to sleep, and all is well in my world.
"Oh FUCK!" *Swerve swerve CRUNCH* "Son of a bitch, where did it go?"
A lovely 8 pointer jumped across the road, and try as he might, poor AD was not able to completely avoid hitting it. It wasn't a complete disaster, the truck was not totaled, but it was going to need to be towed; the radiator reservoir was crunched, and it dumped it's fluid fast.
That's the truck. Like I said, not too much damage. Here's the deer:
And, of course, the man who hit it. :D
The saddest part is the fact that, once we realized everybody was okay, nobody was hurt, the truck wasn't completely destroyed, and hey! Venison! We ended up throwing a nice party on the side of the highway, waiting for DOW and everybody else for official reasons.
The guy from the sheriff's department appeared right after we set up the head of the buck. Department of Wildlife said that they needed to keep the head of the buck, can't exactly remember why, so after removing it, we had some fun:
Yeah, he was a little weirded out by us. But by god, we had fun. We realized, thanks to FarmDad, that the damage was not extensive, and the Nerds had a powerful enough truck to tow Frankenhoopty somewhere to be worked on. Much fun was had.
Well, as much fun as was possible.
PS - Leave it to AD to hunt deer this way. We spend all day shooting guns, and he kills it with a truck. Silly boy.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Scary
So, I promise, there's going to be a full report of the weekend... once I get home and can gather all my thoughts. My brain is so scattered right now it's not even funny.
But! There are two pictures I wanted to show you. Both of guns, and both belong to Stingray.
This is his Evil Black Rifle, and the fuzzy d20s are awesome. I want to play with THAT one.
And this....
That just scares me.
But! There are two pictures I wanted to show you. Both of guns, and both belong to Stingray.
This is his Evil Black Rifle, and the fuzzy d20s are awesome. I want to play with THAT one.
And this....
That just scares me.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
ZOMGZOMGZOMG
So, we made it to FG's. A lovely flight in first class, picked up by the lovely FarmGirl herself, and a nice relaxing drive til we got here. The Jims were already here, and we stuffed our faces and relaxed for a bit more.
Christina and Gay_Cynic arrived after a bit, and hugs were had all around. More food was consumed, more bullshit was had, and a good time was had.
Then these four people walked up, and my brain started leaking out of my ears. Breda! The Nerds! Alan!
ZOMG. Wow.
It's gonna be a good god damned weekend.
EDIT: Breda says she is excited about teaching me how to shoot! ZOMG!
Christina and Gay_Cynic arrived after a bit, and hugs were had all around. More food was consumed, more bullshit was had, and a good time was had.
Then these four people walked up, and my brain started leaking out of my ears. Breda! The Nerds! Alan!
ZOMG. Wow.
It's gonna be a good god damned weekend.
EDIT: Breda says she is excited about teaching me how to shoot! ZOMG!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Bloggers in Colorado... Blogorado?
As I have mentioned in the past, I will be attending a blogmeet that has been dubbed "Blogorado" this weekend.
My flight leaves tomorrow at noon, so I have to leave Warrensburg around 8:30, of course. Don't you love restrictions in flying? Thank you, TSA! I feel *so* much safer!
(And if you couldn't tell that was sarcasm, get the fuck off my blog. Go! Now!)
Man, I can't wait to meet all these awesome folks.
With the lineup that is planning to attend, my head is going to explode as soon as I touch down just from the sheer fangirl-ness of being in their proximity.
A weekend full of good food, good drink, great company, and shooty goodness.
What more could a fledgling gunny-girl ask for?
Blogging over the weekend may be sporadic, but knowing me, it might not happen at all. Once I'm back on my own turf, I'll tell you all about it though. Promise.
I'll bring lots of pics, too!
((For those of you attending, if you don't want me to post your picture on my blog, just let me know. I would still appreciate having as many pics as I can, but if not, just say so.))
See you Monday night!
My flight leaves tomorrow at noon, so I have to leave Warrensburg around 8:30, of course. Don't you love restrictions in flying? Thank you, TSA! I feel *so* much safer!
(And if you couldn't tell that was sarcasm, get the fuck off my blog. Go! Now!)
Man, I can't wait to meet all these awesome folks.
With the lineup that is planning to attend, my head is going to explode as soon as I touch down just from the sheer fangirl-ness of being in their proximity.
A weekend full of good food, good drink, great company, and shooty goodness.
What more could a fledgling gunny-girl ask for?
Blogging over the weekend may be sporadic, but knowing me, it might not happen at all. Once I'm back on my own turf, I'll tell you all about it though. Promise.
I'll bring lots of pics, too!
((For those of you attending, if you don't want me to post your picture on my blog, just let me know. I would still appreciate having as many pics as I can, but if not, just say so.))
See you Monday night!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Halfway Through
Okay. I am a little more than halfway through my first semester in college. It's an interesting experience, it really is.
Except that I'm losing every last cell in my god damned mind.
I've hit that mid-semester slump. I don't want to go to classes, I don't want to be on campus. Half the time I don't even want to get out of bed. I'm losing the energy to dedicate to actually doing the work, and I'm fighting with people all the time, which only makes things worse.
Oh yeah, and did I mention I'm attempting to quit smoking? Oh god.
Life is standing on its head right now, and I'm just trying to survive.
And yeah.... I'm gonna quit making excuses as to why I haven't put a post up in forever, and I'm actually going to try and post more regularly. Promise.
Tune in next time, kids. Same Snark time, same Snark channel.
Except that I'm losing every last cell in my god damned mind.
I've hit that mid-semester slump. I don't want to go to classes, I don't want to be on campus. Half the time I don't even want to get out of bed. I'm losing the energy to dedicate to actually doing the work, and I'm fighting with people all the time, which only makes things worse.
Oh yeah, and did I mention I'm attempting to quit smoking? Oh god.
Life is standing on its head right now, and I'm just trying to survive.
And yeah.... I'm gonna quit making excuses as to why I haven't put a post up in forever, and I'm actually going to try and post more regularly. Promise.
Tune in next time, kids. Same Snark time, same Snark channel.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wheeee!!
Okay, so my blog is whirling, and my poor unused Sitemeter is trying to die, it's having such a hard time with the rapid-fire hits I got this morning.
Thanks, Jay!
So, since I have been very lax with blogging here as of late, I felt the need to go through Sitemeter and see just who all has come to visit my little niche in the Intarwebs....
.... And apparently, this very blog is the number one result for googling "ass fucking whore jumpers".
Who knew?
Thanks, Jay!
So, since I have been very lax with blogging here as of late, I felt the need to go through Sitemeter and see just who all has come to visit my little niche in the Intarwebs....
.... And apparently, this very blog is the number one result for googling "ass fucking whore jumpers".
Who knew?
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
A Visit From My Favorite Person
So, as you can all tell by the pictures two posts back, the Ambulance Driver came to pay me a visit while I am in Houston visiting my family. I was very excited about it, especially the night before, and if you ask the folks in the gunblogger chat, they'll tell you I was freaking out and being a total fangirl. And it's true, I was.
AD got to my house around 10 AM, and amazingly enough, he got there before I did. I had to hop in the car and run to Walmart to buy a few things (including tennis shoes, because all I had were flipflops, and those don't go over too well riding a motorcycle). He called me while I was at the store, saying he was about six miles away, and sure enough, he called when I was just around the corner to say he had arrived.
I was immensely excited, that goes without saying, so when I pulled up in the driveway next to him on the bike, I jumped out and immediately pounced on him for a hug. I couldn't believe that I was getting to meet one of my favorite bloggers, if not THE favorite, and he drove all the way just to see ME. Very flattering, let me tell ya.
We went inside, because I just HAD to show off my little one, and AD agreed that he was a precious little fart, throwing a fit about getting a bath. And of course, there were a few minutes of sitting around talking, and just about the time it started to become awkwardly quiet, I suggested a ride. After all, that's part of the reason he came to town: I had never ridden a motorcycle before and was eager for the experience.
I didn't really have a destination in mind, but when he mentioned food, I immediately knew where we had to go: the taqueria in Pasadena where five mornings a week, my father and I used to have breakfast with the volunteer firemen. So on the bike we went, with the advice to lean with him when he leans, and off we were!
It felt so amazing. It's one thing to do 70 miles an hour in a sports car on the highway, but quite another entirely to have nothing around you but open air and wind in your face with a big rumbling machine between your legs.
It was HAWT.
We got off the bike at the taqueria, AD squinting up at the sky as a couple of the fighter jets stationed at Ellington Field flew by overhead, before ushering ourselves into the dim restaurant and welcome AC. Small talk was made, fajita tacos were ordered with Corona for AD, and we proceeded to chow down. He asked if there were any gun ranges in town that rented out handguns for patrons to try, and in all honesty, I didn't know, but I know somebody that did: My gun nut uncle. So I called their house, only to discover he had already left, but my older brother told me where one was. Off we went again, up and down Pasadena's highway 225 until we found it... only to discover that the place was closed on Mondays. Grrr.
Also, the guest of honor himself wanted to go to either Cabela's or Bass Pro Shop, and since we didn't have the former... we got back to my mom's house so we could get directions to the closest store, getting sprinkled on part of the way back. And neither AD nor myself wanted to ride in the rain, so we borrowed my mom's car and left the bike parked in the driveway.
Dude, I have never been in a BPS store in my life, mainly because I've never gone hunting, fishing, or camping, but I gotta tell ya... I was impressed. We wandered around aimlessly for a bit, checking out the warez, and stopping at one point where they had a target shooting game with electric targets and laser guns. AD played one round and went to hand me the gun, only to be met with protests. I balked and squawked: I knew my aim sucked, but he finally got me to shoot. I hit maybe 25% of the targets I was aiming for; I was having a hard time holding the gun still with the sights lined up. But once we were done with that, off again we wandered. Clothes, fishing goodies, camping stuff... then upstairs to the guns!
AD was not impressed with the gun and ammo selection there. To the point he actually stomped his feet and stuck out his lip in a pout. I just about peed myself I laughed so hard at the image. I was enthralled with some of the pistols they had, giggling to myself over a pink-handled revolver, when suddenly... hand! On my ass! Squeak, jump, glare at AD. Didn't believe that phony innocent look for a second, either, pal.
We ended up making it back to my mom's place, stopping to top off the gas tank in her car like AD promised he would in exchange for letting us use it, and after a little bit of hanging out and talking like the goofy idiots we are, AD said he had to start heading back home. I pouted, didn't really want him to go. I was having too much fun. But off he went, and I went back inside to eat and surf the internet a bit.
Couple hours later, I get an IM from AD: he had waded through a short construction zone for an hour and pulled over to gas his bike up... and have his card denied. What the shit?
Apparently his bank sees nothing suspicious about a couple of $500 charges two days in a row at a gun show, but a few charges on the I-10 corridor for ten bucks are less raise eyebrows, and they locked his card down. So, stranded in Texas with no money for gas and no way to get home.
Snarky to the rescue!
I rounded up some cash and hopped in the car and headed out towards him, and like an idiot, I passed the gas station he was at... by some ten miles. Turn around and head back. Not my fault, I couldn't see the station's sign from the overpass! But I finally get there, give him gas money and he fills up, demanding a hug and a kiss before he left.
What a busy day. Exciting. Fun. I had a blast.
Whoo!
AD got to my house around 10 AM, and amazingly enough, he got there before I did. I had to hop in the car and run to Walmart to buy a few things (including tennis shoes, because all I had were flipflops, and those don't go over too well riding a motorcycle). He called me while I was at the store, saying he was about six miles away, and sure enough, he called when I was just around the corner to say he had arrived.
I was immensely excited, that goes without saying, so when I pulled up in the driveway next to him on the bike, I jumped out and immediately pounced on him for a hug. I couldn't believe that I was getting to meet one of my favorite bloggers, if not THE favorite, and he drove all the way just to see ME. Very flattering, let me tell ya.
We went inside, because I just HAD to show off my little one, and AD agreed that he was a precious little fart, throwing a fit about getting a bath. And of course, there were a few minutes of sitting around talking, and just about the time it started to become awkwardly quiet, I suggested a ride. After all, that's part of the reason he came to town: I had never ridden a motorcycle before and was eager for the experience.
I didn't really have a destination in mind, but when he mentioned food, I immediately knew where we had to go: the taqueria in Pasadena where five mornings a week, my father and I used to have breakfast with the volunteer firemen. So on the bike we went, with the advice to lean with him when he leans, and off we were!
It felt so amazing. It's one thing to do 70 miles an hour in a sports car on the highway, but quite another entirely to have nothing around you but open air and wind in your face with a big rumbling machine between your legs.
It was HAWT.
We got off the bike at the taqueria, AD squinting up at the sky as a couple of the fighter jets stationed at Ellington Field flew by overhead, before ushering ourselves into the dim restaurant and welcome AC. Small talk was made, fajita tacos were ordered with Corona for AD, and we proceeded to chow down. He asked if there were any gun ranges in town that rented out handguns for patrons to try, and in all honesty, I didn't know, but I know somebody that did: My gun nut uncle. So I called their house, only to discover he had already left, but my older brother told me where one was. Off we went again, up and down Pasadena's highway 225 until we found it... only to discover that the place was closed on Mondays. Grrr.
Also, the guest of honor himself wanted to go to either Cabela's or Bass Pro Shop, and since we didn't have the former... we got back to my mom's house so we could get directions to the closest store, getting sprinkled on part of the way back. And neither AD nor myself wanted to ride in the rain, so we borrowed my mom's car and left the bike parked in the driveway.
Dude, I have never been in a BPS store in my life, mainly because I've never gone hunting, fishing, or camping, but I gotta tell ya... I was impressed. We wandered around aimlessly for a bit, checking out the warez, and stopping at one point where they had a target shooting game with electric targets and laser guns. AD played one round and went to hand me the gun, only to be met with protests. I balked and squawked: I knew my aim sucked, but he finally got me to shoot. I hit maybe 25% of the targets I was aiming for; I was having a hard time holding the gun still with the sights lined up. But once we were done with that, off again we wandered. Clothes, fishing goodies, camping stuff... then upstairs to the guns!
AD was not impressed with the gun and ammo selection there. To the point he actually stomped his feet and stuck out his lip in a pout. I just about peed myself I laughed so hard at the image. I was enthralled with some of the pistols they had, giggling to myself over a pink-handled revolver, when suddenly... hand! On my ass! Squeak, jump, glare at AD. Didn't believe that phony innocent look for a second, either, pal.
We ended up making it back to my mom's place, stopping to top off the gas tank in her car like AD promised he would in exchange for letting us use it, and after a little bit of hanging out and talking like the goofy idiots we are, AD said he had to start heading back home. I pouted, didn't really want him to go. I was having too much fun. But off he went, and I went back inside to eat and surf the internet a bit.
Couple hours later, I get an IM from AD: he had waded through a short construction zone for an hour and pulled over to gas his bike up... and have his card denied. What the shit?
Apparently his bank sees nothing suspicious about a couple of $500 charges two days in a row at a gun show, but a few charges on the I-10 corridor for ten bucks are less raise eyebrows, and they locked his card down. So, stranded in Texas with no money for gas and no way to get home.
Snarky to the rescue!
I rounded up some cash and hopped in the car and headed out towards him, and like an idiot, I passed the gas station he was at... by some ten miles. Turn around and head back. Not my fault, I couldn't see the station's sign from the overpass! But I finally get there, give him gas money and he fills up, demanding a hug and a kiss before he left.
What a busy day. Exciting. Fun. I had a blast.
Whoo!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
So, I'm a terrible person, I know. I haven't posted ANYTHING with real content in a while. I'm working on that.
Really. I am.
I promise.
In the mean time, I'm having a blast in the Gunblogger Conspiracy chat. It's AWESOMESAUCE, ya'll. Srsly.
I've had some really interesting conversations about watching Ren & Stimpy on LSD, problems with my piece o' shit laptop, the even bigger pile o' shit van, Scarlet, guns (of course, duh!), sex (always a fun topic), boobs specifically (a constant topic), movies (Monday Movie Night FTW!), and I've gotten to add some new blogs to my blogroll.
Which I haven't updated in forever, so I guess it's time to do it now, huh? Check out my sidebar to see more people who generally rock my fucking socks off and offer a great read.
In news RELATED to guns and the bloggers I read, I have some good news to offer (for me anyway)...
I GET TO GO TO A BLOGMEET! SQUEEEE!!!
Yes. It's true. I get to be one of the cool kids now. I get to meet with some of my favorite bloggers to let my inner carnivore out and (hopefully) shoot some stuff. I say hopefully because I don't have a weapon of my own, I'm really not all that educated on the handling of guns aside from the Four Rules, but maybe someone will take pity on me and let me shoot their boomstick. Who knows, maybe I'll come home further educated and have an idea of what I want for my own shooty goodness.
But yes, FarmGirl is hosting a blogmeet the first weekend in November, opening weekend of pheasant season. Pheasant and prairie dog shoot, general fun shoot, and good food with good company. When she told me on the IRC channel, I opined that I probably wouldn't be able to attend, due to transportation. She suggested I try to hitch a ride with somebody heading out there. Of course, I inquired as to which of my favorite blog celebrities would be in attendance, and I just about fangirl'd myself into the next century when she told me the list:
*Ambulance Driver
*LawDog
*PhlegmFatale
*Stingray and LabRat
*AEPilotJim
*OldNFO
*Matt G of Better and Better (possibly)
And a few others I can't recall right off the top of my head.
Plus yours truly. Why? Because I managed to snag a ride!
OldNFO will be picking AEPilotJim up in Tulsa to carry him along to this fun little shindig, and he informed me that he would be more than happy to stop here in BFE, Missouri to grab my sorry ass as well.
Yay! I'm so happy! I can hardly wait for November to get here now! Agh! ZOMG! Squee! Various other noises that might adequately express my elation!
Now, onto something that seems to chafe my ass here as of late.
Redhead's Sister.
Yeah. Her. Again.
She's well-meaning, she really is, but damn she ain't too bright.
She's a total hippie. Hey, if you want to live your life that way, more power to you. She's very in-touch with her Mexican heritage, to the point she married an illegal immigrant and made him a legal citizen. Again, more power to you.
As far as her being a hippie... Well... She's all about eating only organic foods. She spends a shit-ton on groceries because of it, I know this for a fact. She's all about recycling EVERYTHING she buys, she uses cloth diapers on her two kids. Hell, like I said before, her business is selling hemp-cloth diapers. She loves hemp fabrics. And I will admit, they're soft and feel nice. But it's hella expensive.
She's such a hippie, I'm amazed she doesn't drive a friggin' Prius. But her husband drives a massive Dodge Ram that makes other hippies quake with fear. I know, I've driven it past them. I think I remember one fainting. It was AWESOME, I tell you.
She's vegetarian. She wants to forgo eating meat, good for her. Here's where problems start to arise, though...
She has two kids, two little girls. Xochitl is 7, and Dulce is 2. They're good kids. Xochitl is bratty like nobody's business, but kids will be kids, I suppose.
And they're unintentionally suffering because of Sister. She's raising her kids vegetarian as well. With no vitamins to make up for the fact that they're not getting it from eating meat. Certain vitamins are needed, and animal fats help with brain development in young children.
Oh yeah, and she's not getting the kids vaccinated either.
And she expects me to let my month-old son to spend time with these children? She wants me to expose my son to potential illnesses because she feels vaccinations are unnecessary? Um, no. Not gonna fly.
Her husband doesn't want Redhead and I coming to the house. He fights with Redhead constantly (and I can see why on occasion, Redhead isn't the easiest to get along with), and he thinks all American women are sluts. Wait, didn't you marry an American woman? You did? Didn't her marrying you give you legal citizenship here? It did? So you won't get shipped back to Mexico, right? Oh yeah. Insult your wife, good job.
For a while, we would go down and wash clothes at Sister's house, and it was all cool. Then Jackass Husband said nope, that wasn't allowed either. And then problems start.
Me: "Um, Sister? You remember those diapers you gave us, to get us started with Daniel?"
Her: "Yeah, how are they working out?"
Me: "Well, we haven't been using them because they're still a little too big for Daniel, they just kinda fall off. But I have to ask you... You remember how many you gave us? About 14 or 15, right?"
Her: "Yeah, I figured that would get you started out alright."
Me: "Yeah, about that. It's only like a day or so's worth of diapers. And I can't afford to go to the laundromat every day or every other day."
Her: "So? What's the problem?"
Me: "If I can't come sit at your place almost every day to wash diapers, I can't use them. I can't afford to spend thirty bucks a week just to wash DIAPERS."
Her: "So what are you saying?"
Me: "I'm saying I'm bringing them back to you because your husband doesn't like me or your little brother. Redhead has already said he won't even come to your house anymore. You are letting your husband cause a rift between you and your little brother, your little brother and his nieces, and a rift will be caused between Daniel and his two cousins. His ONLY two cousins. Because you are letting your husband control every aspect of your life, including everything that happens in your house. Hell, you can't even listen to music you like without him throwing a bitch fit. Does that seem right?"
Yeah. Fun times, ain't it? Jackass Husband knew that van was a piece of shit, so he gave the okay to give it to us. I should have sold it the second she gave it to me, could have gotten more money out of it then than I can now. Hell, I'm looking at only about $300 as it stands now. When I got it, it still ran well enough to get a grand out of. Not so much anymore.
Oh well. Hindsight is 20/20. Jackass Husband is still a little stumpy wetback prick in my book, though.
Kiss my ass, pendejo.
Really. I am.
I promise.
In the mean time, I'm having a blast in the Gunblogger Conspiracy chat. It's AWESOMESAUCE, ya'll. Srsly.
I've had some really interesting conversations about watching Ren & Stimpy on LSD, problems with my piece o' shit laptop, the even bigger pile o' shit van, Scarlet, guns (of course, duh!), sex (always a fun topic), boobs specifically (a constant topic), movies (Monday Movie Night FTW!), and I've gotten to add some new blogs to my blogroll.
Which I haven't updated in forever, so I guess it's time to do it now, huh? Check out my sidebar to see more people who generally rock my fucking socks off and offer a great read.
In news RELATED to guns and the bloggers I read, I have some good news to offer (for me anyway)...
I GET TO GO TO A BLOGMEET! SQUEEEE!!!
Yes. It's true. I get to be one of the cool kids now. I get to meet with some of my favorite bloggers to let my inner carnivore out and (hopefully) shoot some stuff. I say hopefully because I don't have a weapon of my own, I'm really not all that educated on the handling of guns aside from the Four Rules, but maybe someone will take pity on me and let me shoot their boomstick. Who knows, maybe I'll come home further educated and have an idea of what I want for my own shooty goodness.
But yes, FarmGirl is hosting a blogmeet the first weekend in November, opening weekend of pheasant season. Pheasant and prairie dog shoot, general fun shoot, and good food with good company. When she told me on the IRC channel, I opined that I probably wouldn't be able to attend, due to transportation. She suggested I try to hitch a ride with somebody heading out there. Of course, I inquired as to which of my favorite blog celebrities would be in attendance, and I just about fangirl'd myself into the next century when she told me the list:
*Ambulance Driver
*LawDog
*PhlegmFatale
*Stingray and LabRat
*AEPilotJim
*OldNFO
*Matt G of Better and Better (possibly)
And a few others I can't recall right off the top of my head.
Plus yours truly. Why? Because I managed to snag a ride!
OldNFO will be picking AEPilotJim up in Tulsa to carry him along to this fun little shindig, and he informed me that he would be more than happy to stop here in BFE, Missouri to grab my sorry ass as well.
Yay! I'm so happy! I can hardly wait for November to get here now! Agh! ZOMG! Squee! Various other noises that might adequately express my elation!
Now, onto something that seems to chafe my ass here as of late.
Redhead's Sister.
Yeah. Her. Again.
She's well-meaning, she really is, but damn she ain't too bright.
She's a total hippie. Hey, if you want to live your life that way, more power to you. She's very in-touch with her Mexican heritage, to the point she married an illegal immigrant and made him a legal citizen. Again, more power to you.
As far as her being a hippie... Well... She's all about eating only organic foods. She spends a shit-ton on groceries because of it, I know this for a fact. She's all about recycling EVERYTHING she buys, she uses cloth diapers on her two kids. Hell, like I said before, her business is selling hemp-cloth diapers. She loves hemp fabrics. And I will admit, they're soft and feel nice. But it's hella expensive.
She's such a hippie, I'm amazed she doesn't drive a friggin' Prius. But her husband drives a massive Dodge Ram that makes other hippies quake with fear. I know, I've driven it past them. I think I remember one fainting. It was AWESOME, I tell you.
She's vegetarian. She wants to forgo eating meat, good for her. Here's where problems start to arise, though...
She has two kids, two little girls. Xochitl is 7, and Dulce is 2. They're good kids. Xochitl is bratty like nobody's business, but kids will be kids, I suppose.
And they're unintentionally suffering because of Sister. She's raising her kids vegetarian as well. With no vitamins to make up for the fact that they're not getting it from eating meat. Certain vitamins are needed, and animal fats help with brain development in young children.
Oh yeah, and she's not getting the kids vaccinated either.
And she expects me to let my month-old son to spend time with these children? She wants me to expose my son to potential illnesses because she feels vaccinations are unnecessary? Um, no. Not gonna fly.
Her husband doesn't want Redhead and I coming to the house. He fights with Redhead constantly (and I can see why on occasion, Redhead isn't the easiest to get along with), and he thinks all American women are sluts. Wait, didn't you marry an American woman? You did? Didn't her marrying you give you legal citizenship here? It did? So you won't get shipped back to Mexico, right? Oh yeah. Insult your wife, good job.
For a while, we would go down and wash clothes at Sister's house, and it was all cool. Then Jackass Husband said nope, that wasn't allowed either. And then problems start.
Me: "Um, Sister? You remember those diapers you gave us, to get us started with Daniel?"
Her: "Yeah, how are they working out?"
Me: "Well, we haven't been using them because they're still a little too big for Daniel, they just kinda fall off. But I have to ask you... You remember how many you gave us? About 14 or 15, right?"
Her: "Yeah, I figured that would get you started out alright."
Me: "Yeah, about that. It's only like a day or so's worth of diapers. And I can't afford to go to the laundromat every day or every other day."
Her: "So? What's the problem?"
Me: "If I can't come sit at your place almost every day to wash diapers, I can't use them. I can't afford to spend thirty bucks a week just to wash DIAPERS."
Her: "So what are you saying?"
Me: "I'm saying I'm bringing them back to you because your husband doesn't like me or your little brother. Redhead has already said he won't even come to your house anymore. You are letting your husband cause a rift between you and your little brother, your little brother and his nieces, and a rift will be caused between Daniel and his two cousins. His ONLY two cousins. Because you are letting your husband control every aspect of your life, including everything that happens in your house. Hell, you can't even listen to music you like without him throwing a bitch fit. Does that seem right?"
Yeah. Fun times, ain't it? Jackass Husband knew that van was a piece of shit, so he gave the okay to give it to us. I should have sold it the second she gave it to me, could have gotten more money out of it then than I can now. Hell, I'm looking at only about $300 as it stands now. When I got it, it still ran well enough to get a grand out of. Not so much anymore.
Oh well. Hindsight is 20/20. Jackass Husband is still a little stumpy wetback prick in my book, though.
Kiss my ass, pendejo.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The Conspiracy
So, thanks to a handful of the bloggers I read, I have let myself into the Gunblogger Conspiracy chat. It's an interesting little corner of the internet.
Filled with fucking NUTCASES.
But it's great. Good way to waste... going on four hours now.
I've struck up a tentative friendship with Unix-Jedi.
I fainted when Breda logged in the first time.
Jay identified me and posted a link to my little blog. How sweet.
I want to cuddle with FarmGirl.
And...
AHAB! SHUT THE FUCK UP! Seriously dude. Just. Stop. Talking.
And quit buying bad meth. Srsly.
Filled with fucking NUTCASES.
But it's great. Good way to waste... going on four hours now.
I've struck up a tentative friendship with Unix-Jedi.
I fainted when Breda logged in the first time.
Jay identified me and posted a link to my little blog. How sweet.
I want to cuddle with FarmGirl.
And...
AHAB! SHUT THE FUCK UP! Seriously dude. Just. Stop. Talking.
And quit buying bad meth. Srsly.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Ze Blogroll
Ho'snaps! Two posts in one day!
Can ya tell I'm not doing a single productive thing today? Oh yeah. You can.
So, after stuffing myself full of a new blog, and noticing how most of the blogs I follow make NOTE when they add to their blogroll, I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon and point out who all is in my sidebar over there and why I lurves them. So, without further adieu, here we go!
Well, that's all of them. And from now on, whenever I add a new blogger to the roll, I shall update my handful of faithful readers so that you, too, can go read and be educated in whatever way that these folks offer.
Now go! Read! Make with the clicky!
Can ya tell I'm not doing a single productive thing today? Oh yeah. You can.
So, after stuffing myself full of a new blog, and noticing how most of the blogs I follow make NOTE when they add to their blogroll, I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon and point out who all is in my sidebar over there and why I lurves them. So, without further adieu, here we go!
- Ambulance Driver - This guy is pretty much my blogfather. I read him first, got sucked in, and it was all downhill from there. I followed his blogroll to a handful of other people, and after so long, I started my own. Full of snark when writing about working the 'bolance and guns, his blog promises much fun for all.
- LabRat and StingRay of Atomic Nerds - These two.. I don't even know where to begin. A frighteningly intelligent couple that blog about everything from science to guns to politics to general insanity, I was first linked to them through someone else to their post about things StingRay is not allowed to do. From that post alone, I was hooked.
- Crystal at Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper - The title pretty much says it all right there. How can you argue with that? Wife, mother of three, and completely insane. I love this lady. I want to be like her when I grow up.
- Cranky Epistles - An easily-agitated woman who teaches English at a Catholic university in PA. Okay, so not easily agitated. Just... she has certain triggers that set her off bigger than anything. Like stupid students. Which I can't really blame her for, to be honest.
- Nurse K at Crass-Pollination - An urban ER nurse, battling it out day-to-day with stupid docs and even stupider patients. Lots of the latter, who think that their runny nose needs to be seen by a doctor RIGHT NOW or they just might die. Well worth the read.
- Adventures of GuitarGirlRN - Another ER nurse, full of contempt for the more sheep-like members of humanity. Plus, she plays guitar and bass both. Can't argue with that!
- LawDog - Ah, the much-worshipped godfather of the blogging community I have gotten sucked into. A policeman in North Texas with a colorful upbringing and plenty of snark to spare, this is the man that gets EVERYBODY into blogging, it seems like.
- Jay G. of MArooned - A gun nut, a father, a husband, a biker, an all around good guy who seems like he might just have a short fuse... I agree with everything he says, ESPECIALLY considering idiots on the road. His Road Rage posts keep my sides splitting while simultaneously cursing stupid drivers. Also worth noting are his Friday Fun posts about cars and Friday Gun Pr0n. Can't go wrong.
- MattG of Better and Better - Another officer from the great state of Texas, this is a family man who is more down to earth and full of good information about safety and firearms, and always willing to answer a question that a reader may pose to him. Very charming personality.
- Skippy's List - The website containing the greatly appreciated "213 Things Skippy Is No Longer Allowed To Do In The U.S. Army". That in and of itself is good for endless amounts of laughs, no matter how many times you've heard it. I can't believe he got AWAY with some of the stuff he did. Plus, there's a blog on the site, and every Monday they post a new list of things people are not allowed to do in various different jobs. Gigglefest, all around.
- The Breda Fallacy - The Most Dangerous Librarian in Ohio. Small of stature, big of snark, she concealed carries wherever she goes, and is full of advice to women just looking to protect themselves and their families. Plus food recipes! Yumz.
- FarmGirl of Tractor Tracks - A home-grown farm girl, most at home in the saddle of her horses, FarmGirl is another female gun blogger, with an interesting novella-type project in the process that she posts chapters to from time to time. Very interesting read.
- Sabra of Trailer Park Paradise - A single mother of three that has somehow captured my attention, and in all honesty, I can't really put words to why I'm so entranced with reading her blog. Just take my word for it, click the link, and go read!
Well, that's all of them. And from now on, whenever I add a new blogger to the roll, I shall update my handful of faithful readers so that you, too, can go read and be educated in whatever way that these folks offer.
Now go! Read! Make with the clicky!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
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