Saturday, July 14, 2018


So this morning, I was up at the crack of stupid to meet up with a couple thousand people down by the Convention Center for the annual Running of the Bulls, New Orleans-style. This is my second year.
This is kinda like the Festival of San Fermin in Spain, only instead of actual bulls--which are cost prohibitive and messy--they use roller derby girls with bats.

The object of the event is to run/walk the course through downtown New Orleans while the roller girls dash in and out of the crowd and take shots at as many backsides as they can.

And in case you were wondering, some of these gals can really hit. I'm here to tell the world.

You can run, but you cannot hide.

Of course some you don't try too hard to get away from.

And just when you think you're safe at the end, there's a gauntlet you have to run where most of the gals, being faster than the runners, are now waiting.

Even Elvis got his.

And there was a mariachi band...with drinks. Because New Orleans. (Gotta stay hydrated, right?)
And a good time was had by all.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need another ice pack. I'm kinda sore for some reason.

And here's the pics and commentary from last year. Clearly I did not learn a thing.

Friday, July 13, 2018

Snitches get stitches...

"Just thought I'd let you know, Dad...Murphy's on the sofa!"

Tuesday, July 03, 2018

About had it.

It's fireworks season, and poor Belle is losing her canine mind. Trying to calm her down because I have a late date tonight but no joy...nothing but whining and pacing and no nap for me.

Murphy, he couldn't care less. But Belle... Argh.

Saturday, June 23, 2018

What did I say?

So yesterday I entertained some friends and they wanted to see the Audubon Insectarium, which contains a large room that you walk into with butterflies that are flying free and flitting all around you. Naturally there are signs like this one all over the place.

A couple women where in there with a herd of small kids and one kid next to us read the sign aloud. Another, smaller one, asked his mom if he'd get in trouble if a butterfly landed on him. Mom replied that he would not, and that the butterflies can touch you if they want to but you just can't touch them. The kid looked a bit puzzled by the concept so I tried to explain more clearly.

"It's kind of like a strip club," I said.

Next thing I know, the moms are evil-eyeing me to death as they dragged their kids away.

I mean, did I say something wrong?

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Too soon?

Reportedly the Democrats are furious that President Trump isn't doing more to help Guatemala as they deal with a volcanic eruption with has killed hundreds of that country's citizens. They demanded that he send them aid right away.

President Trump, moved by the news, immediately dispatched ICE to sanctuary cities across America and is preparing to ship the first load of replacement Guatemalans back to that country this week.

And for some reason, the Left is still mad, proving that there's just no pleasing the Left.

Saturday, June 09, 2018

Pattern 14 to the range!

Today just struck me as a good day for the range, so I loaded up the Pattern 14 and some old South African .303 ammo and headed out while it was still somewhat not insanely hot. The range wasn't crowded at all, and as usual, 90% of the shooters there on the rifle line had some variant of an AR. Man I remember the day when I was the subject of scorn at a range or two for having an AR back when they weren't common. Now I'm the odd duck again for not having one. Sigh...

But me and the Pattern 14 got down to business, and business was good.

Firing off the mat--I'm still the only one here that does that--the old rifle put almost every round on the 8" steel plate at 100M. The few that missed were completely my fault. This old war horse is still solid and capable. I have to raise the sight leaf and with the aperture in the lowest setting and when I do it hits right on the steel so regularly that it's kinda boring. But it felt good to lie on that mat and pull that stock up into my shoulder, bringing that trigger back slowly until it broke, the report and the recoil being followed a second later by a sharp ringing noise as the steel target downrange rocked. It doesn't get much better than this morning.

After a time, I put the old iron away and broke out the Ruger 10/22 on the .22 steel range, just to work on my offhand shooting, which is still sub-par.
I player over here for half an hour or so then hit the road.

And in an amazing range coincidence, I was unable to find my shooter's earmuffs in my truck when I got there, so I asked to borrow a pair from the range. Well the range stopped issuing loaners this past month but the range officers know me and as a courtesy they popped open their supply cabinet and gave me a pair from their lost and found...and that pair had my initials clearly painted on both muffs! Well I guess I know where those got to. But what are the odds of them reaching into a box of earmuffs and pulling out my own pair, a set that I didn't even know was missing?

Thursday, June 07, 2018

Rabbit season!!

(Duck season...)

Seen in New Orleans last night. Two free-range rabbits, right there.

Someone had a hankering for Hasenpfeffer.

Tuesday, June 05, 2018

More guns--Pattern 14 again

I've had this old Pattern 14 for a long time and it's been written about here before.

The Pattern 14 Enfield

I restocked it once, but with an old drill-purpose stock which had been cut through to allow for the demilitarization of the rifle it had originally been on. I didn't like those holes and I didn't care for how the finish come out, but it still looked decent enough and it shot really well out to 200 yards so I kept it. I wanted to get a better stock for it but they'd gotten scarce over the years.

Then Sarco advertised some. The price More than I'd paid for the rifle itself. But I wanted the rifle correct and it was still cheap at today's Pattern 14 prices. So I ordered one.

The fist one they sent me was ridiculous. Soon as I pulled it out of the long, thin back full or styrofoam chips--a pet peeve of mine--I saw that all the metal still on it was corroded badly and the stick had a full-thickness crack running up one side at the mag well. It was useless and beyond repair. But sarco's pretty good on fixing stuff like this (they should be, as often as they do this) and they sent me a replacement stock that was rough but which cleaned up well enough with tung oil once I got all of the cosmoline grease out of it. I spent a week rubbing it down and adding thin coats and it finished up looking pretty good. I purposely left the dings and scrapes in it because the rest of the rifle metal has it's character wear already so it looks appropriate, wood and metal alike, just like any other old rifle that's been maintained but not refinished.

As for it's markings:

ERA, means it was make at the Remington-run shop at the Baldwin Locomotive Works, Eddystone, PA.

Other side: "Not English Make" stamp on the left--a requirement for firearms imported into Britain back then-- and British government property markings. This one definitely went "over there" to help fight the Hun.

All that's left to do now is get it a proper sling, try to find it some correct long-range volley sights, and take it out to shoot it, possibly as soon as this coming week-end.

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Gun Pron

It was a nice, restful week-end, one spent prepping for a storm that we thankfully didn't get. But there was range time, and the successful test of two Thompson drums that hadn't worked well before. But after a fair bit of gentile filing and tweaking and internal lubrication, I managed to get both drums running flawlessly with this old gun. It was definitely stress-relieving and the entire range went quiet the first time that I ran an entire 50-round drum without a hiccup or pause. Definitely adds weight to an already-heave gun and you can actually feel that weight shift as the drum cycles. Thr drums were not practical for combat due to the cost, fragility, noise of ammo rattling in them and weight, but how could I own a Thompson that takes drums and not have one?

I didn't get and shooting footage as my old camera phone finally bit the dust last week, but I did get a new phone that appears to take much better shots, so here's something that you gun afficianadoes can salivate over.
And if you want to see to see more like it, the World War Two museum is less than two miles from Lair South here, so get off your butts and come visit the Crescent City! Let me know you're coming and we can make a museum visit happen.

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Life here.

Just for those wondering what I do when I'm not at my day job or chasing the dogs around, I have a side-job at a couple of clubs nearby, and this job takes my into contact with some people who, I must confess, I'd likely not have associated with up in West Virginia. Two of them just got flown to London, all expenses paid, to be back-up dancers for this goofy little singer here as he performed live on the Graham Norton show the other night. And while his music and style isn't quite my thing at all, his taste in dancers is definitely above average.

These gals, who come on-stage at 1:10 and go back off around 3:45, are friends of mine, particularly the taller one in the red corset, who is a good friend indeed, not only of me but of Murphy and fact I'll be picking her up from the airport in a few hours. They are two of the reasons that I'm not posting as much as I used to. But can you blame me?

Now go roll some Lynyrd Skynyrd or Hoyt Axton to get that foofy music outta your head.