...Looks like this when you do what I do.
Today, my colleagues and I are going to spend the day...
Playing Working with things like this.
And this...
...and this, among other nifty little items.
I'll be along later to tell you how my day turned out.
Because, dude, I have some senior Senate staff members coming to my range to play with guns instead of passing healthcare legislation for a firearms demonstration. I also have remedial shooters, and have to qualify some freakin' mucketymuck from Headquarters.
I'm going to be too busy to post anything worth talking about, so I will leave you with the following topics for discussion instead:
Morning traffic, heading into Washington, DC from Virginia.
Or!
(Taken at SeaWorld, Orlando before the Killer Whale show)
The total saturation of social media in all aspects of our daily lives.
Discuss... I'll be back later... probably in a highly agitated state.
I have never made any bones about the fact that I am one of the least technologically savvy men on the planet. Well, at least in the developed world, anyway. I'm not the guy to ask about computer servers, memory, POP connections, or any of that stuff. I didn't set up the pc in our home. I never set the clocks on the VCR's (when we used such things). My wife's laptop is light-years more advanced than mine, which might have something to do with the twelve hundred dollar disparity in price, but I digress. I know people that talk about computers in terms that make my head spin after three sentences. I am in awe of the things that other people know that I don't know... which probably has a lot to do with me deeply ingrained educational inferiority complex.
Anyway, my problem isn't one of programming... today, my problem is about Site-meter. I got my weekly report from those fine folks who monitor my blog and tell me how many people are visiting and all sorts of things... and you know what? according to them, I had no visitors last week.
None.
Now, I am am not so egotistical to think that my blog gets lots of traffic. It doesn't. I realize that my life is neither exciting nor glamorous... or even interesting to most people. It isn't. I realize that many of my more savvy blogging pals read my blog via Google reader or bloglines or subscription or other means (or just don't read anymore), but I can't accept that NO ONE read, or even visited my blog last week.
Is sitemeter just f***ing with me?
Hmm.
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In other news, I got a new gun on Friday. There, that ought to excite the search engines. A brand new pistol, right out of the box, and she's all mine. Well, that's not really true. She belongs to Uncle Sam... but my uncle, being a swell fellow, has given her into my care.
It was with some sadness that I turned in my old pistol (it was only four years old, but VERY well-used), but this new gun is of a larger caliber (bigger bullets make bigger holes, you see), and has a few features that that old one didn't have. She's a beauty (pronounced bewdy, if you are in Australia), she is. Have a look:
I won't bother with nomenclature or anything like that, but I will say this: I put three hundred fifty six rounds through it on Friday morning, and she shoots well. Very well.
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We went to church as per usual yesterday, and Mrs Gunfighter had the luxury of sitting in the pew without soccergirl or me, as sg was acolyte, and I was the assisting minister. What made this day particularly fun was that we had a supply pastor (guest pastor for those that don't habla the Lutheran) who is originally from Ghana. Pastor Edward was pretty cool, if a little long-winded. He gave a great sermon, made so much better because of his African accent. A self-deprecating man, he made us laugh several times during the service, but the funniest thing that happened took place during Communion.
Now, I know that some of my readers are adherents to the Roman Church, and therefore usually have wafers at communion, and some of my readers are of the LDS church, still others are Baptists, Jewish, non-denominational Christians, and other assorted groups and or non-believing heathens, heck, I even have readers that are Republicans (you know that I love all of you equally, though, right?, especially the heathens). Well, in our church, during communion we use bread, and as communion is served, the Pastor breaks off a piece of bread, about the size of a quarter, or a half-dollar (remember those?) hands it to the parishioner and says: "The body of Christ, given for you" and them moves to the next person. Well, yesterday, Pastor Edward was tearing huge, and I mean huge, pieces of bread. So large that some of the communicants had to hurriedly tear the pieces into smaller pieces and bolt them down by the time I followed with the wine, saying: "The blood of Christ, shed for you" while trying not to laugh all the while. After doing this for a while, Pastor Edward looked at me and said, are there many more people?( we were a little more than halfway done) and I said to him, "almost half are left, you might want to go smaller" Which he found quite humorous... I suppose he was trying to use as much of the bread as possible. Almost twenty four hours later, and I am still laughing about it, even as I type this.
There, conjure with that for a while. I have a date with my new Sig.
GF
A few weeks ago, I bought this DVD, figuring that I would give it a watch some evening when I had some time on my hands... you know, like before I fall asleep in my rocking chair. I bought it at Wal-Mart, paying something like thirteen dollars for it... so I didn't feel particularly pressured to see it in a hurry.
Well, I watched it last week, and I have to tell you... I'm not exactly sure what to think. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this not-quite-a-gem of a movie, here is the premise: Jodie Foster plays the host of a Talk-Radio show who who, along with her fiance, were attacked by a camera wielding gang of thugs in a New York city park. Foster is badly beaten and in a coma for three weeks... the fiance, played by Naveen Andrews, is beaten to death.
When Foster is released from the hospital she, quite understandably, sees the world, and the city of New York through new eyes. She does something that she never considered before... she bought a handgun. At first, the gun was something that she wanted to have to protect herself, but when she had the bad luck to be in a convenience store when a man came in and shot the clerk to death, she killed the perpetrator in order to defend herself. Not sticking around to talk to the police about what she had done (with an illegal weapon), she began a string of vigilante killings.
Starting with two punks on a subway train (a` la ), she shoots her way through several less-than-nice people, including one who is the nemesis of the very detective that is working on the vigilante case... and who is a potential love interest for Foster.
Foster, in her grief and rage, also experiences a great deal of guilt, and in the movie's final scene, she goes to kill the people who assaulted her and murdered her fiance... but not before telling the investigating detective where she is going.
In the final scene, Foster kills two of her three assailants, but before she can kill the third, the Detective (played by Terrance Howard), gives her his gun in order to make the scene indicate that the dead men are the vigilante killers.
The bottom line for me is that I never go and see police movies or crime dramas of any sort in the theater as they are so formulaic... and usually so not like reality that I can't be bothered to watch them. This movie was as formulaic as the rest, but overall it wasn't a bad way to spend the hour and a half that it took to watch it from the comfort of my rocking chair. The only real problem I had with the movie is that the gun-play is so incredibly bad that it offends me in a professional way. Start with the picture on the movie poster at the top of this page... Ms Foster... with her finger on the trigger of a pistol, is pointing said pistol at either her feet or other body parts. To put it mildly, this sort of behavior is contraindicated.
Anyway, good fun for a little while. If you watch it, you probably won't hate it... unless movie violence bothers you.
![](http://<img src="https://gunfighter1.typepad.com/th_madskillz.jpg"/>)
Lucille or Lucy: Ain't nothin' funny about my pistols... when they come out of the holster, it's time to get down with the get down. You know what I mean?
Esmeralda: I like this name... unfortunately, I have a girl named Esmeralda on my soccer team. Couldn't do it.
Slugo: From the old Bazooka chewing gum? You know, this was in my top three. Masculine, tough, strong.
Larry: Two thoughts came to mind with Larry. The first was the Three Stooges. Being a man, I immediately started laughing when the Stooges crossed my mind. Why? Because it's genders specific. Sue me. I also thought of the gentle, easy-going guy from my church, whose name is also Larry. Even though Larry enjoys shooting, I couldn't give my gun his name.
Annie: Ms Oakley was a target shooter... yours truly is a gunfighter, never the twain shall meet.
Sue: This was another good one, as it reminded me of Johnny Cash... and who doesn't have mad props for Johnny Cash.
Sugar Tits: No... this would be just wrong on every level.
Rover: Hm. Not so much
Boerboel: I like the description that I was given of these loyal, tough , protective South African farm dogs, but to tell you the truth, my Dutch/Afrikaans pronunciation is so bad, that I would probably mispronounce it constantly.
Pamela (as in Anderson 'cause that girl has some big guns): Yes, Pam's got big guns, but she is a right skanky ol' tart. No dice.
Grok: Another list leader! It was hard to pass by ANY reference to Robert A. Heinlein's main character from "Stranger in a Strange Land" Mad props to for suggesting it. You, my friend, Grok in fullness.
Mjolnir (The Name of Mighty Thor's Hammer!): DJBlackadam came up with a great name, and it almost made the cut.
Rex: Again with the dog names... but I like this one better than rover.