gun sane

Good to see you-uns!

Aw, bud....while chemical preservatives may sound dangerous, let's not knock these tasty elements that appeal to today's adventurous connoisseur of frozen fast food delights. Sure, they're not for everybody's enjoyment (even though everybody eats them in one grocery commodity or another), but I personally know several junk food junkies who relish the taste of such tantalizing treats as Yellow Dye No. 5, sodium benzoate and various mouth-watering humectants. One even walks around happily chewing on assorted tantalizing flavors of xanthan gum. Consider that only 70 years ago when the food supply was pure, yet boring, the human life expectancy was a mere 45 years. Today, thanks to food preservatives, we might enjoy well over 80 years of day to day preservation while munching on a seemingly endless diet of chemical formulas. Why should health gurus recommend such idiotic menus such as a Paleolithic diet when the cavemen only lived slightly more than 30 years? But don't worry about me. The chili peppers in the Louisiana hot sauce that I lavishly spread across the burritos are guaranteed to burn out and kill each and every deadly molecule of unpronounceable additives that would normally deplete my nutritious supply of precious bodily fluids.

It's become a daily morning ritual for me to nuke two El Monterey breakfast burritos in the micro, anoint them with hot sauce and then sit down to blow reveille on my stomach with these tantalizing Mexican-style torpedoes. Sure, I enjoy an occasional feast of eggs and bacon with a side of flapjacks, but only when I've convinced the wife that it's her sworn duty to fix them. Besides, I'd rather wash only one microwaveable dish than to go out on cold wintery mornings to pour the grease into the ditch out back and then have to give the skillet a good scrubbing. In only two minutes and twenty-seven seconds, these egg, bacon and cheese delicacies are ready for lip service. I buy them by the 8-round sack, along with the Egg, Sausage and Cheese, or Meat Lover's variety and devote about a quarter of our refrigerator freezer to these yummy stuffed blankets. Since I've got one-third of my body's food requirements heavily invested in El Monterey, I thought it best to check up on the Ruiz family who makes these pick-me-uppers. They've been satisfying eaters like me since 1964, starting with a small mixer and Mama Ruiz's top-secret recipe in a 500 square-foot warehouse. Hard work, dedication and an uncanny ability to avoid ICE agents have kept this long tradition of wonderful south-of-the-border concoctions coming. But now to the real reason I'm posting: I checked the El Monterey employment opportunities on their website and found that the Denison, TX facility is in dire need of a Tortilla Thrower. Although no formal education is required for the job, it's not without it's demand for skills. According to the job description, the successful tortilla thrower applicant must be able to "put the tortilla onto the conveyor belt at the standard speed, according to size and weight of the product being produced." As arduous as this task sounds, bear in mind that the worker will not be responsible for consistently throwing the tortilla at high-speed conveyor belts. The Ruiz family doesn't run a sweat shop. But mere physical ability is not the only unique talent this champion of the workplace must possess. The successful employee must also "place all tortillas going in the same direction." Evidently it takes an incredibly trained eye to determine which end of a round tortilla goes in first. In addition, he (or she) must "know which side of the tortilla is the right side up." That will probably send at least 90% of the wannabes back to the street right there. But just in case a myopic pretender somehow gets through the cracks, the real professional tortilla thrower must painstakingly "remove all out-of-spec tortillas and know what an acceptable tortilla is." The deal breaker may perhaps be this last requirement. If you want to throw tortillas for Mama Ruiz, you should have one to six months of previous experience. She's not taking greenies. You might get by with an El Chico reference on your resume, but expect a rigorous training period before you start pitching for El Monterey. I'm sure You can see from these five tough requirements why Trump is adamant about keeping top tortilla throwers in this country and not allowing the Ruiz family business to move to Mexico. So, if you're in a dead end job and wondering if tortilla throwing is the challenge you need, why not give El Monterey a shot? Sure it's a big move to Denison, so you might try just commuting to Texas from Tennessee for awhile to find out if you have the right stuff for this demanding position. But remember....it's not for Eggo sissies. http://www.elmonterey.com/

I have a Jewish friend who comes over to reload from time to time. Last year he asked me what I wanted for the Christian holiday. I told him that at the original Christmas, the wise men brought gifts to Jesus; they didn't swap them amongst themselves. Instead I suggested he make a donation to an area food bank because Jesus said, "when you have done it unto the least of these, you did it unto Me." (Matt. 25:40) After doing so, he told me it was the warmest fuzzy he had ever received.

You might be a liberal if you're just getting into prepping............wait, WHAT? http://www.infowars.com/trumpocalypse-suddenly-liberals-are-the-ones-stockpiling-food-guns-and-emergency-supplies/

You might be a prepper if you ask the cops for the brass at shooting crime scenes.

All the inside skinny you might ever want to know about Hollywood's biggest hypocrisy: anti-gun liberals making big money with shoot-em-up action movies. Plus, a drooling look at the armory which supplies firearms to the stars. http://features.hollywoodreporter.com/the-gun-industrys-lucrative-relationship-with-hollywood/

I finally got my poor tired feet out of ICU so I'll post a few thoughts on running the gauntlet at the Knoxville Gun, Mall Ninja and Hot Tub show today. I was looking to get rid of some dreck that had accumulated over the past few years. I'd held on to it much too long and it was mostly a buyer's market, since America's No. 1 gun salesman is about to retire in less than 40 days. I suppose we're in that awkward period where gun seekers know the economy is gonna get better but it hasn't shown up on the paycheck yet. It's a lot easier to turn stuff when the customers are thick at the tables and fighting like it's Black Friday at the Walmart towel rack. This time I had to walk the show three times before I was willing to come off my dream price. Baked-on stupidity is hard to scrub out. First I had to run the gauntlet of lowballers in the parking lot and near the door. Anyone open carrying is subject to interrogation: What ya got? What do ya want for it? What will you take? (As if the second question doesn't matter.) It's easy to shake off the dealers masquerading as civilians. You give them a ridiculous price, such as full retail, and they know they're wasting their time talking to a fool who is unclear on the capitalist concept. But if you're haggling with someone without a FFL, you have a better chance of a tax-free sale. In Tennessee, gun show loopholes are pretty wide but you still should check state ID and frisk for ski masks. It costs the equivalent of a box of cheap 9mm to gain entry. Sometimes the cops hired for security will make an offer as they zip-tie your gun's action. Many are on the lookout for a bargain throw dow......I mean, backup pistol or revolver. It's best to eat before you arrive. There's usually a food vendor ready to take your money, if the health department has given them their license back, but you're still paying steak prices for a mystery meat burger. I remember ordering one time and just happened to see my doctor standing behind me staring at me like I was a sheep-killing dog. I told him that the patty makes for an excellent gun lube and actually attracts wild carnivores. Good for me he was one of the 50% of doctors who finished in the bottom half of the class. The first lap around the building is for show. You want to give the tightwad dealers behind the tables the impression that it isn't your first rodeo and you know which end of the horse smells worse. To set the proper mood, you should dress accordingly. I wore my "Deplorable Lives Matter" t-shirt to declare that I was someone to be reckoned with. When I lived in Texas I was topped with the usual Stetson with all kinds of shiny few-faws dangling off the crown. In East Tennessee, the well-dressed expert has at least 70 ball caps in his closet to choose from, but at the tables he's adorned with a lid which sports at least one Confederate flag and a witty saying, such as, "I Call 1911, Not 9-1-1." On the second time around, you should have your game face full on. The dealers now know that you carried all those slung rifles and pistol boxes for a full mile and they're looking for signs of weakness. Some will venture a "No luck, yet?" comment to drain your resolve, but they should be parried with an air of patience. "I may just hang on to 'em while the price goes up." is the only fitting comeback I've learned. Your mileage may vary. Take a minute to lean over their table and give their merchandise a hard look if you didn't do it on the first round. It's not that you're really interested about the same gun you've seen all over the show, but it gives them a chance to scan for all the intricate details of your pride and joy that you desperately want to disown. Caution: Make sure you keep the dinged side against your body--secrets are for serious lookers only. And don't knock over any Tupperware or other arts and crafts displays. It quickly spoils the mood. A third time around is for God-fearers only. You're praying every step of the way that a miracle will happen and someone will buy for cost plus the price of admission. There's no use putting on any airs. The self-respecting peons have long since headed to the barn. At this point, anything you've got to trade is even-steven with an RG revolver that the dealer euphemizes as "German made." If you're lucky, he'll do the deal and then beat you over the head with both guns. I must have been living right because I found a guy who bit on my rock-bottom price. I like to think he took pity, but I suspect he was afraid I'd heave up that hamburger on his chrome-plated throwing stars. I took his cash and hitched a ride from a handicapped scooter driver headed for the door. God moves in mysterious ways.

I'm going. I'll be the one in the flannel shirt and ball cap.

Yeah, I've beaten my swords into plowshares to preserve marital peace, too. But I still maintain a pocket knife at DEFCON 3.....or is it 4? Dang.....

Trying to get into the Spirit of Christmas? Don't look for smarmy TV movies to find the real "reason for the season." The wife has been gorging on the Hallmark Channel's yuletide offering lately and here's the synopsis of one that was on tonight: "As the Christmas holiday draws near, a veterinary student and a stray cat challenge a fireman's commitment to life as a bachelor."

There are reports that the initial fire had a human cause. How do you issue a warning on that?

There's too dang many of them to make a difference. Years ago I was a member of the Houston Gun Collectors Assn. which had only two shows per year. Well over 1,000 tables and no spa salesmen or trinket peddlers. There were deals galore. I don't begrudge RK or any dealer the right to make a living, but I don't go unless I have a specific need that can't be met elsewhere.

Whether you treat yourself to a bird this Thursday or not, I hope we all celebrate a joyous day of safe space togetherness in your own personal community of positive influencing associates.

Does that warranty cover KABOOMS?

Looks like baseball is the only thing the Dems didn't teach Chicago how to rig.

I don't listen to much country music, but wasn't that last one Lady Gaga?

The Top Five Things You Can Do After Reassembling the Old Ruger Mark Pistol: (1) Apply for an automatic P.H.D. at the American Gunsmithing Institute. (2) Crack the safe in the KFC Secret Recipe Room. (3) Do any repair job on a Ford. (4) Advise Rebel pilots on how to take down the Death Star. (5) Raise Bill Ruger from the dead.

Well, it sure beats the old way.

If it's all about concealment plus capacity, how about a mini-19? Get a Glock 26 and stuff a G19 mag with an X-Grip spacer into it. Sight radius isn't really a factor at average SD distances.

We all can relax for the moment. The ATF was shooting from the hip. https://www.atf.gov/file/109341/download

Gun enthusiasts are interpreting this rule change as an end run to control the ammo and reloading business. Here's two reports to consider: http://www.alloutdoor.com/2016/08/30/breaking-latest-atf-surprise-drive-ammo-prices-roof/ http://www.ammoland.com/2016/08/atf-reclassifies-wetted-nitrocellulose-as-explosive-materials-under-federal-laws/#axzz4Ikveu3Mq

My Bersa .380 cut its teeth on PMC. Avoid the Winchester pig-nosed fodder and the Sellier & Bellot FMJ. When you reassemble after cleaning, make sure the recoil spring goes back on the barrel with the slightly larger diameter end towards the muzzle (whichever way is more snug). Turning the spring so that its "tail" is in the 12 o'clock position over the muzzle may help prevent jams.

Tim Tebow would be proud to stand for the anthem....if the team owners can just get passed that pesky Christian image thing.

Yep, there's a lot of us retirees in the neighborhood that don't have to be anywhere at anytime. And there's a good number of lazy mechanics too. They're like electricity--they flow in the path of least resistance.