Friday, August 31, 2007

The real A$$ whoopin' in a box

I have a book at home that covers many of the obsolete calibers of the world. There are references to arcane calibers of every shape and size. The most common thing among them is their lack of power. Most are so bad you might be better off with a sharp stick, I know you would be safer with a sling and a big rock.

Along about the early sixties a dude with a chronograph and an idea set about changing that forever. His name was Weatherby. He set about building the best hunting rifle in the world, and the most powerful.

The original Weatherby was a work of art in all respects. The wood was beautiful, the action was custom with a nine lug bolt, lapped until the action would slide open smoothly when the angle of repose was exceeded. Expensive as all get out.

When sales dropped off in the Eighties a grade of rifle for the rest of us was built. The Vanguard was a Weatherby built on a Belgian Mauser action, with a synthetic stock and chambered for a Weatherby round.

Walmart entered the picture and offered the rifles at a low enough price that I bought one because I thought it was priced wrong. One of my friends bought three. They come with a target from the test firing at the factory. Friends you have no excuses, if there is a miss, it was the shooter, not the gun. My target shows a three leaf clover at one hundred yards.

The .300 Weatherby Magnum boots a 165 grain bullet along at about 3200 fps.

I bought a decent scope and headed out to give it a try. The first shot destroyed the internals of the scope, knocked everything out of focus. It now wears a long eye relief 5 to 9 scope with a five inch eye relief. The 180 grain slug whacks you with 54 ft/lbs of free recoil. I weigh above 250 lbs, and it will pick me and the rifle up off the bench.

The Love of my life will not even stand behind me when I shoot it, she says the blast makes her teeth hurt. It makes my teeth hurt too, though for another reason.

All the little boy's want this,,,,,

After the first dust up in the Gulf I was asked if I would care to attend a class to certify new NRA firearms instructors. For free. The cost for the rest of the world was around $260 a person.

No brainer, I'm in!

I met some of the Special Ops folks that made that excursion the success it was. They were pupils, looking for a resume line for post military life. One character in particular, sort of stood out. I shouldn't say a lot about him because he would be too easy to find, based on the superlatives attached to his name. Let's just say his resume made James Bond look like a girl.

He's the only person I know of who looks on getting flash-banged in training, as something to take in stride.

We struck up a conversation regarding the weapons in the room, that we brought for the range session, and show and tell. I brought an HK93, he brought an AR 15 with an entry light. He was completely amazed that I hated the HK. I wasn't raised on ghost ring sights, and they just don't work for me. Additionally the curve at the rear of the action fits your cheek bone nicely to line up your eye with the sights, and give you a black eye after a long day at the range. This was in the era of the import ban, and the price of the HK was up to about $850 by then. He had financial reasons for wanting to swap, I had personal reasons. He is the generous sort and left the entry light attached. I added the Aimpoint scope. His comment, "If the other guy has one and you don't, by the time you can aim, you're shot"! 'Nuff said!

So I now own an AR-15 with a forward assist and barrel for the heavy NATO .223, with entry light and Aimpoint. I would love to have a holosight, but maybe later. He also threw in enough 30 round clips to give Billary the hives.

Strictly for social work.

Thursday, August 30, 2007


Not news, I'm afraid. I have been reading Matt G. for a while and didn't realise I hadn't linked him. Done it now, he's on the side bar. My apology for not doing it sooner.

And if you really want to get their attention.....

Then use a bigger hammer. A few years ago I had a business that sort of migrated to a handy man service. If you got the money, I will find the time, kind of. A coworker with a positive aversion to manual labor asked me to give him a price for painting his house. He mentioned he might barter a rifle for the work. It was a brick house. I researched the rifle and found it to be worth about fifteen hundred dollars. Needless to say, I went for the brushes.

So for about forty hours work I acquired a Browning "A" Bolt in stainless, with the boss system. It was topped with a Leopold 4 to 14 Police Sniper Scope. The rifle is chambered for .300 Win Mag

With a 165 grain bullet and a sand bag, I can hit a dime at 100 yards. On the first shot anyway, after that it becomes a process of will to soak up the punishment, it needs to be much heavier.

That was my first rifle chambered for "an A$$ whuppin' in a box."

Long Distance,,,,,,almost as good as being there

If you have to reach out and touch something, it always helps to have the tool for the job. I am going to guess that the attraction for the marksman is the sheer difficulty in controlling your actions and, as much as possible the environment, and still be able to hit your selected target. Not just hit it, but hit exactly where you select.

Old military rifles had ladder sights that carried increments out to thousands of yards. If you have ever read ballistics tables and perhaps even taken a few Trig courses, then the complexity becomes more obvious. What is the angle, when the opposite side is 750 ft. and the adjacent side is one inch? Anyone with a scientific calculator can punch up the answer in short order. The answer is in seconds of angle, something like 24 seconds of angle. I did the math in my head, so if I'm off a little, please forgive me. The point? When you can see the beat of your heart and your breathing in the movement of your scope, controlling your movements to achieve an arc that small is iffy at best. The addition of the arc of the bullet, time of flight, wind (more trig), bullet coefficient, humidity, altitude, temperature and configuration of the target, it becomes very interesting.

Sniper training manuals show rules of thumb for reading the wind and normal leads for walking and running targets at various distances. They also recommend huge amounts of ammo for the training. That's a good idea because someday you will have to take a shot with out the time for the calculations.

Where does the tool come in? It must be extremely consistent and stable. It should be relatively heavy, to dampen movement. The components should be robust, any system pushed to it's limits becomes less predictable, and thereby inaccurate.

My choice for long range has a heavy, fluted barrel, synthetic stock, a twelve power BSA scope, folding bipod, and is chambered for .223.
The Savage 12FVSS now comes with a two stage trigger, I may modify mine in the future. The single stage trigger isn't that great, but I have read testimonials of prairie dog kills at 450 yards. That would be way better than me. The .223 in this weapon is almost recoil free.
I'm lovin' it.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

This one is just for fun

If anyone had ever told me I would have five or six hundred dollars in a .22 rifle, I would have laughed in their face, and been wrong.

A few years ago I fell in love with the Ruger 10-22, along with almost everyone that has ever pulled the trigger on one. I was pilfering around a pawn shop in Fayetteville, and found a version with a .9 inch barrel and a scope already mounted. It was blued, and being the lazy dog that I am, I wanted stainless. I continued to search in all the usual places and eventually found one, $450 later it was mine. I added a 3 to 9 scope and later a Blazer thumb hole stock. Of course every 10-22 owner MUST have a collection of 25 to 50 round clips, and I do.

This is the Love of My Life's favorite rifle. We go to the range and shoot clay birds at 100 yards, then we shoot the pieces. Great fun, and inexpensive.

Gun Porn,,,,,well, maybe only to me

Shooters generally pick an area of interest and concentrate on that skill or type of fire arm. There are people like Tamara from the view from the porch who have a collectors eye, there are people like me who like to shoot about anything with a trigger.

Even though I am a pistol coach, I like long range work and play. I am not equipped to do bench rest shooting, nor do I have the time. I love to hunt, but paper is good too.

My favorite deer rifle is over a hundred years old, but has been "up dated" somewhat. The rifle is a Krag Jorgenson 6.5x55 1896 Mauser, manufactured in Sweden, under licence from Mauser Werk in Germany.

I bought it on sale at a local variety store for $55, and it went up from there. I located a local gunsmith who would remove the iron sights, drill and tap for scope mounts, mount the scope bore sight, spot blue, install a sporter safety and turn down the bolt handle, for $70. I provided him with a synthetic stock, and came home with a fair looking rifle, with a creepy trigger and a slightly patchy finish. I talked over the trigger and finish with the gunsmith and arranged a custom trigger and a black parkerized finish, for $105.

I had reached the point that I was done spending on a project gun, because the next change would put me into the bracket of a carry out custom weapon.

The ammo is readily available from Remington and Winchester, as well as some military and import suppliers. The original round fired a 140gr bullet at about 2700 fps, most factory loads stick fairly close to that figure for pressure reasons.

The scope is a Simmons 3 to 9, yes, I know that's an inexpensive scope, but it works. Most hunting shots come well under two hundred fifty yards, and I have other possibilities if the conditions require it. The 140gr bullet wouldn't have the retained energy I want at a longer range.

This combination is a great hunting weapon for several reasons. It is relatively inexpensive to shoot, the recoil is low, and the long projectile makes it stable and accurate. As I have stated else where, the only way to shoot good, is to shoot a lot. If your gun hurts when you pull the trigger, you won't subject your self to it as much.

I have killed one deer with this weapon, one shot at 125 yds, knocked a chunk of lung out on the ground about the size of my fist. Dinner didn't live fifteen seconds. As a point of interest, a lot of Scandinavians hunt Moose with a 6.5X55. I agree with Robert Rourke, however and believe in using enough gun. That's defined as slightly more than necessary in any case.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Tomorrow I will do a little gun porn

I am a shooting enthusiast, tomorrow pics and specs on some of my faves.

A new goal

The Love of My Life and I ran six miles last night. Endorphins are wonderful things. Sunday will be the day.
13.1 miles, God willing.

New career

After pricing birds for the soup, I'm thinking of taking up chicken rustling.

Not yo' mamas chicken soup

Lunch today,

2 Cans chicken broth
4 breast fillets
4green onion bulbs and greens about 3 inches long
Lemon grass
Coconut milk
Red pepper flakes
Dash of Terikyaki

Heat the broth, chop the onion and add to broth. Cube the chicken and add to the liquid, stir in enough coconut milk to whiten the broth. Add pepper and red pepper flakes to taste. Serve when the chicken is cooked.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

It caint be all bad,,,,

I had wine and Cheese Cake for supper.

I am fed, buzzed, employed, healthy, solvent, loved, not to mention tomorrow will be better.

"cause everyone else with a cool blog posted this....

This Is My Life, Rated
Life: 7
Mind: 7.3
Body: 6.7
Spirit: 6.4
Friends/Family: 5.6
Love: 7.3
Finance: 7.9
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

We may have a problem here,,,,

I think I know how the old fire house dogs feel.

I was running the other night when the local F.D. responded to a call, an engine, a squad and a ladder. "Q's" blasting, air horns fit to raise the dead, diesel's roaring, lights like lightning telling everyone to get the hell out of the way!

My nipples stood up and I got cold chills.

Some addictions are never cured.

The wife asked me if they would just let me drive the truck, can you imagine how that interview would go?

I'm thinking,,,,poorly.

From the Hammer

Hammer was woundering about this.

Why is insulating foam falling off and knocking holes in the space shuttle every time they launch despite the fact that we went 20 years with no foam problems whatsoever?

We always had foam problems, they replace tiles every trip. Most of them don't destroy a national treasure. Each is made for a particular site, at the shuttle facility. It takes three men to replace each tile. One to observe (quality control) one to read the procedure, and the last to do the work. The tiles are only about an inch thick (at least the ones I held), and are held on with GE red RTV.

Did you ever wonder where the huge fuel tank goes? It disintegrates as it reenters the atmosphere, and falls into the Indian Ocean in pieces the size of a desk top. I wonder how the locals feel about that.

More conditional good news....

My coworker is now missing a cancerous lung lobe. Still alive, still a good prognosis. He may go home tomorrow. All prayers to whom ever you see fit, please, are needed.

Red Necks and Sawdust

A long time ago when I was young and impatient, I wanted a car. In my family there was no magic birthday that called the car fairy to drop something in the drive, just 'cause I was another day older and deeper in debt. The alternative was to go to work, again. I already had a job, and because I didn't have a life, a second job seemed to be just the ticket.

I was a dumb ass.

I talked to the boys down at the local saw mill and started in the mornings at 0700 and worked for the princely sum of $1.35 an hour, until about 1430, when I walked a couple of miles to the cotton mill for my full time job.

Some of the boys, weren't actually boys. They were hard case red neck,old time, backwoods, white trash. If they were sober, they would be on time and ready to work. They were always paid on Friday and broke on Monday. They were pretty reliable actually.

One of the lower tiered individuals was a red neck's red neck. In the months I worked there, I never saw him wear shirt or shoes. As far as I know, he never bathed, I didn't know because I saw the signs and stayed upwind. He was tanned as brown as a nut. He was also the only human I've ever seen off bare at a saw mill wearing only khaki pants, no shirt, no shoes, no gloves. Think how far and how fast a six foot saw blade can throw pine sap and splinters.

The saw blade I mentioned is six feet in diameter and has hand set tungsten carbide teeth. That means the teeth are about an inch in length and held in place with a half moon cam the same size.

The average sawyer knows he is paid by how much he can saw in a day. He doesn't care about much except slabs and boards coming off the mill, and saw dust piling up somewhere.

Most mills will not accept trees if they come from a house lot. There is just to much chance a sprog has driven nails into a tree. Chance? It's almost a certainty. I've probably driven a keg or two of nails into trees myself. What do you think a nail struck by a carbide sawtooth about 4000 times a second will do?

Sparks come to mind.

Then the teeth get loose. Then they fly out,,,,,at about 450fps.

Our hero was working under the shelter that covers the mill, and occasionally he would hear a sound like a hornet near his head. He thought nothing of it. I can't imagine how he expected a hornet could be heard over the scream of the blade as it chewed through logs. Soon enough one of the "hornets" impacted an overhead board and our hero heard a "whop" and looked up to see the tooth embedded in the lumber.

The boy turned as pale as a sheet and sat down. I don't blame him. That's pretty close to dieing. He was gone for the next several days drowning his sorrows I expect.

Or perhaps getting his nerve back.

My Life in a Blender...

on puree. The posting has been light for too long, due to unavoidable distractions. I won't go in to it because there ain't enough cheese in Wisconsin to go with the whine. We are all living and breathing, all else will pass.

I'm thinking of the Kamchatka Peninsula as a retirement spot.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Now thats depressing

The hurricane tracks that are on record for my area. Kind makes me want to duck, dodge or hide.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Nuclear Xylophone

Nuclear Operations earns the old description of "long periods of debilitating boredom sprinkled with short periods of intense panic".

Thankfully the boredom is almost pervasive. However, today in one of those boring times the creative have conceived of a project! One of the senior Reactor Operators was tapping on switch module covers, places where the switch has been removed and a blank put in its place, and discovered they all had different tones. We thought about it for a bit and decided we could get several Reactor Operators to take pencils and practice until they could play a tune, like bell ringers.

Then we could video tape it,

and put it on YouTube,

and watch it from federal prison,

where we will be sent when the NRC sees it!

So much for that idea.

Sky writings

Please check out Sky writings. This lady puts emotions into words better than most. The feelings are almost hypnotic. Keep tissue handy, the need may come quickly, as will the laughter.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

She must be from the south.

Written by a housewife from New Jersey

'Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we?

Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001?

Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania ?

Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?

And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was 'desecrated' when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet?

...Well, I don't. I don't care at all. I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.

I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia .

I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat.

I'll care when the cowardly so-called 'insurgents' in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.

I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave Marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care.

When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college- hazing incident, rest assured: I don't care.

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank: I don't care.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed 'special' food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts: I don't care.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.'

Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and-you guessed it-I don't care !!

If you agree with this viewpoint, pass this on to all your E-mail friends. Sooner or later, it'll get to the people responsible for this ridiculous behavior

By way of Rough Diamond

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Sometimes when you least expect it.....

The Love of my Life just told me in one of those conversations that goes in odd directions, that her girls are looking for a man that treats them like I treat her.

Good luck girls, you'll need it. I come from another place and another time. The pop culture in this area is your worst enemy. The guys here are just looking for another sand slut, until they are ready to marry, then they want a girl who has never slept with their friends, or made a spectacle of them selves. My girls are both beautiful, and would be queens elsewhere, here they look like everyone around them.

I have told them before, go someplace away from here, where value is placed on womanhood and you will never be the same.

I was extremely flattered and proud. It feels good when someone sees what you try to do and be.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

If they are the tricycle motors...


Then why am I so tired?

We had all four of the grand babies today, the Love of My Life planned a trip to Pirate Days at Old Baldy. The function is to support the lighthouse built in 1817, on Bald Head Island. There was a pirate reinactment group in camp, a Jack Sparrow look-a-like, a mock pirate trial, and various games and a theives market.

I thought I was hearding cats.
The little ones (5) would lag behind until you stopped and then when you turn around, just walk away. Then there is poke and prod until someone is crying. Then various fun and games between times. I have the advantage of being a little scary and gruff. I bark and they jump, not much but they do mind me better than most.

I was superised to find that we were allowed to climb to the top of the lighthouse. I think it may be a hundred feet tall. There is a long spiral staircase that take you to the top. The entrance to the top chamber will barely admit someone of my size.
Barely, but it will.
We had a look at the beautiful view and took a few pictures. Then to make room for the next group, and to get out of the heat, we started down. The bride went first, and then the two older girls, the trash talking boy was next. He balked and started with the "I can't" stuff. This is the kid that was later hanging over the side of the dock and will run down the curb of the of the walkways with a drop off on the side. There were people waiting, and he wasn't about about to go.
So I stuffed him in the hole like putting a cat in a sack. He star fished on me. Arms and legs spread as far as they would go, screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Lucky for me I out weigh him by about 220lbs, otherwise we might still be wrestling around the top of that place. I wrapped him up, folded the appendages in like the blades on a pocket knife, and handed him down to the bride.
About thirty seconds later he's trash talking again, go figure.
We had a picnic lunch, and a ferry ride back to the car. A long day for us all.
The oldest Step Daughter invited herself and her boyfriend to dinner. I had some sea bass that I wanted to cook on the new grill, add to that some chicken, mack and cheese, Chinese eggplant, okra, along with rolls and chocolate cake for dessert.
A fair meal, and well recieved.
We get to do it all again tomorrow.
Oh! Wait! Now I remember, I've only had nine hours shuteye since 3pm Thirsday.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Spicoli strikes again

CARACAS, Venezuela (AP) - Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez has praised Sean Penn for his critical stance against the war in Iraq, saying the two chatted by phone and soon plan to meet in person.

Chavez said Penn traveled to Venezuela this week wanting to learn more about the situation in the country and walked around some of Caracas' poor barrios on his own.

"Welcome to Venezuela, Mr. Penn. What drives him is consciousness, the search for new paths," Chavez said Wednesday in a televised speech. "He's one of the greatest opponents of the Iraq invasion."

Chavez read aloud from a recent open letter by Penn to President Bush in which the actor condemned the Iraq war and called for Bush to be impeached, saying the president along with Vice President Dick Cheney and Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice are "villainously and criminally obscene people."

The socialist president, who shares those views, said he and Penn talked by phone—"with my bad English but we understood each other more or less."

They say there is no bad publicity, that may be, but this is as close as you can get. Spicoli cuddling up to a dictator that jails his opponents, shuts down dissenting papers and verbally attacks the Nation that tolerates hollywierd fruitcakes and their opinion. I wonder what Sean would think if he were kidnapped for ransom the way so many there are, and had to be hospitalized in the socialist paradise medical system? Little different perspective I expect. Walking around in the barrios does not generally give you a feel for a country, particularly when the Govt. probably has you covered with minders.

Conditional good news

One of my coworkers has a tumor in a lung. His biopsy should be back today.
His spirits are good, his doctor has treated 200+ patients for lung cancer. Only six of those were nonsmokers, my friend has never smoked. The tumor is golf ball sized and round and smooth. Cancer most often has the evil alien tendrils and odd shape thats connected to everything. If they need to remove it, then they will evaluate the need for Chemo.
Prayers are requested for he and his family.

I seem to be writing this a lot.

This is what our "hard working neighbors from the South are doing for us!

Stolen from the BMEWS

2006 (First Quarter) INS/FBI Statistical Report on Undocumented Immigrants

95 % of Warrants in LOS ANGELES are for ILLEGAL ALIENS
83 % of Warrants for MURDER in Phoenix Arizona are FOR ILLEGAL ALIENS
86 % of Warrants for MURDER in Albuquerque New Mexico are for ILLEGAL ALIENS
75 % of those on the most wanted list in Los Angeles, Phoenix, Albuquerque are ILLEGAL ALIENS
24.9 % OF ALL INMATES in California detention centers are Mexican Nationals here ILLEGALLY
40.1 % of all inmates in Arizona detention centers are Mexican Nationals here ILLEGALLY
29 % (630,000) Convicted ILLEGAL ALIENS felons fill our state and federal prisons at the cost of $1.5 Billion Annually
53 % Plus of all investigated burglaries reported in California, New Mexico, Nevada, Arizona and Texas are perpetrated by ILLEGAL ALIENS
50 % Plus of all gang members in Los Angeles are ILLEGAL ALIENS
71 % Plus of all apprehended Cars stolen in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and California were stolen by ILLEGAL ALIENS or “Transport Coyotes “
47 % of cited / stopped Drivers in California have NO License, NO Insurance, and NO Registration for the vehicle of that 47 %, over 92 % were ILLEGAL ALIENS
63 % of cited / stopped Drivers in Arizona have NO License, NO Insurance, and NO Registration for the vehicle of that 63 %, over 97 % are ILLEGAL ALIENS
66 % of cited / stopped Drivers in New Mexico have NO License, NO Insurance, and NO Registration for the vehicle Of that 66 %, over 98 % were ILLEGAL ALIENS

380,000 Plus “ANCHOR BABIES” were born in the U.S. in 2005 to ILLEGAL ALIEN PARENTS, making 380,000 babies automatically U.S. Citizens 97.2% of all costs incurred from those births were paid for by American taxpayers.
66 % OF all births in California are to illegal alien Mexicans on Medi-Cal whose births were paid by taxpayers

300,000 plus illegal aliens in Los Angeles Country are living in garages
Nearly 60 % of all occupants of HUD properties in the United States are illegal aliens.

14 out of 31 TV stations in L.A. are Spanish only
16 out of 28 TV stations in Phoenix are Spanish only
15 out of 24 TV stations in Albuquerque are Spanish only
21 radio stations in Los Angeles are Spanish only
17 radio stations in Albuquerque are Spanish only

34% plus of Arizona students in grades 1-12 are illegal aliens and 24% plus are non-English speaking
39% plus of California students in grades 1-12 are illegal aliens and 42% plus are non-English speaking
In Los Angeles County, 5.1 million people speak English - 3.9 million speak Spanish

43 % of all Food Stamps issued are to illegal aliens
41 % of all Unemployment Checks in the United States are to illegal aliens
58 % of all Welfare payments in the United States are issued to illegal aliens
Less than 2 % of illegal aliens are picking crops but 41 % are on welfare

Over 70% of the U.S. annual population growth (and over 90% of CA, FL, and NY) results from immigration

The estimated profit to U.S. corporations and businesses employing illegal aliens in 2005 was more than 2.36 trillion

62 % of all “undocumented immigrants” in the U.S. are working for cash and not paying taxes, predominantly illegal aliens are working without a green card
The cost of immigration to the American taxpayer in 1997 (last known calculation by Professor Donald Huddle, Rice University) was a NET (after subtracting taxes immigrants pay), $70 Billion per year. [What are the 2006 costs?]
The lifetime fiscal impact (taxes paid minus services used) for the average illegal alien is $55,000 cost to the American taxpayer in a 5-year span. You personally pay $11,000 every year to illegal aliens.
(per Center for Immigration Studies - September 2006): Between 2000 and 2005, 4.1 million immigrant workers arrived in the U.S., accounting for 86% of the net inrease in the total number of employed persons (16 & older), the highest share ever recorded in the U.S. Of the 4.1 million, between 1.4 and 2.7 million are estimated to be illegal aliens. Also, between 2000 and 2005, the number of young (16 to 34) native-born men employed declined by 1.7 million - at the same time, the number of new male immigrant workers increased by 1.9 million. [Do you still believe the gov’t employment rate stats?]

This is unsustainable. Spread it, till every one hears.

Holly's Hystrionics: From an E-Mail

Holly has this satirical speech by the President on her site. It says so much that just doesnt sink in to the thick heads around this country.

Holly's Hystrionics: From an E-Mail

Give it a read.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

A friend has passed

A friend and coworker of twenty five years has passed away. A month ago he was the picture of health. He had "bruised his back" and went to a chiropractor for an adjustment. The chiropractor noticed some bumps in an unusual place and recommended he see his physician. His physician discovered advanced bone and lung cancer. He lived less than a month.

We will miss his smile and humor. He is survived by a wife and I believe two children.

Remember them in your prayers.

My toast to all who will no longer grace us with their presence: Good friends, good food, good conversation, we will miss you badly. Till me meet again.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007


According to experts, my personality type is :
Assasin for hire
Ink Blot Personality TestOther people like me display these traits.
  • They are great kissers
  • They like jelly filled doughnuts
  • They suffer from bowel problems
  • They are geeks
  • Take the Ink Blot Personality Quiz at

    Living Life Backwards

    I want to live my next life backwards!

    You start out dead and get that out of the way right off the bat.

    Then, you wake up in a nursing home feeling better every day.

    When you are kicked out of the home for being too
    healthy, you spend
    years enjoying your retirement and collecting benefit checks.

    When you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day.

    You work 40 years or so, getting younger every day until pretty soon
    too young to work.

    So then, you go to high school: play sports, date, drink, and party.

    As you get even younger, you become a kid again.

    You go to elementary school, play, and have no responsibilities.

    In a few years, you become a baby and everyone runs themselves ragged
    keeping you happy.

    You spend your last 9 months floating peacefully in luxury, spa-like
    conditions: central heating, room service on tap.

    Until finally...You finish off as an orgasm.

    I rest my case

    It's a hard life,,,you can have it.

    It's been tough to post lately, I guess everyone has those times. There are lots of stories that come to mind, however, motivation doesn't come with them.

    The Redneck Phd. Stories I have written, I feel show a side of some people that the average person will never know. Lots of yuppies like to call folks from the country red necks, because they're different in dress and experience. I bet if you called AD a red neck he'd hand you your head or insult you so artfully it would sound like a compliment. Call Lawdog a red neck, and the old hairy eyeball would be enough to make you stop and think. Call me one and I'll say thanks and go on my way laughing at your ignorance. Most people have never seen a real Red Neck on his home turf, if they ever do, it'll likely scare them so bad they'll feel faint. Country doesn't mean red neck.

    The sadly departed red neck in the following story was awarded his RedNeck Phd. Posthumously. Funny how many of those there are.

    We called him Big Hairy, you can spell that however you like. It's not his real name, just a fair description. He was about six four and ah…. unkempt, unmown perhaps. Long hair, long beard, both white, saggy jeans, dirty tee shirt and a faint (mostly) aroma. Think Treebeard with a stagger. I hate to say it but Hairy was a drunk and a trouble maker.

    He would work at about anything through the week, but come the weekend he was sure to drink till the money ran out, and he had no credit.
    He was working on a bulldozer for a local company. All they gave him to work with was worn out tools that tend to slip off and make you bang your knuckles. He was swearing and raving at some reluctant bolt when he decided to take a breather and talk to a friend of mine. He stalked over and offered an apology in advance of his next effort. " I just wanted to tell you that if you see something shiny going across the sky, it'll be this pull bar, and the next thing you see will be me running after it to bring it back, it's the only one I have." Hairy had a sense of humor, he could laugh at himself. He wouldn't invite you to join him, but he knew he was messed up.

    I met him on several occasions both social and professional. I've pulled him out of wrecks, gone to his mothers house because of his depression, and transported him from one facility to another. On one occasion we tried to get him to take is meds, it worked because he took the whole bottle. We checked and all he got for the effort was a severe case of the trots.

    He was involved in a wreck, not and accident, a wreck, it was inevitable. He was brought to the ED and put in a trauma room, where, as with most drunks, he got defensive. He was sure something bad was going to happen, because it always did when he was at fault. The staff at good ole' Stump Water General Hospital are almost family. They are all caring professionals. One of the nurses was trying to get some basic info from Hairy and he raised his fist and threatened to hit her. I was nearby and was obliged to warn him, if he hit the nice lady, I would tear off something the Doctor couldn't sew back on. He put his hand down and kept his eye on me until he was released. He could be reasoned with, you just had to put it in terms he could deal with.

    He always drifted from one job to another, everything from mechanic to commercial fisherman. Down East we have offshore boats that go out for a week or two at a trip for reef fish, Snapper, grouper, sea bass and some real deep water fish like golden tiles. I don't think any locals would have hired Hairy on their boat because he was known to have issues. A couple from out of the area hired him cause they didn't know any better. All went well till Hairy got into the beer. I never heard much about that night, I will guess the conversation turned to his life and times or his family. He got pretty upset and decided his life was to much trouble or too bad to live. Some time in the night, forty or fifty miles at sea, Hairy went over the stern and swam away in the dark. Obviously he was never found.

    Hairy didn't have a lot going for him, neither did he have a lot against him, what he seriously lacked was judgement. Good choices would have made his existence bearable.