Henchman 24: Who the hell are you?
Dermott: I’m Hank’s friend.
Henchman 24: Eh, I doubt that.
Dermott: Would you believe I’m Brock Sampson’s long-lost son?
Henchman 24: If that were true I don’t think I woulda caught you so easily.
Dermott: I couldn’t run because I had a lighter up my ass!
Henchman 24: Okay, NOW I believe you’re Hank’s friend.
Damn, Tears of a Sea Cow is the funniest Venture Bros. episode of Season 3 (so far). Check it out.
I’ve mentioned before that I do occasional freelance computer work on the side. Today a friend threw a job my way, and it sounded like easy money:
Client: I installed Service Pack 3 and now it just reboots over and over.
Me: Does it have an AMD processor?*
Client: It does, actually.
Me: Alright, I’ll be over in 15 minutes.
The actual fix took me all of 10 minutes, but I’m too honest:
Me: Well, you’re already paying for an hour of my time. Anything else I can fix for you?
Client: Yeah, there’s a few other things I need help with…
Long story short, I apparently impressed the hell out of him and now he wants me to build him a new website and become his go-to IT guy. I guess I need to decide which deadly sin is stronger here, greed or sloth. Right now I’m leaning towards greed…
* Bonus points for you if you know why that’s the right question to ask in this case.
Detroit: America’s most promiscuous city
It appears that despite my best efforts, I’m just a bit below average in this regard.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make…
At the urging of Breda I’ve been trying out Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy, which is basically a lemonade beer. And it tastes like… beer and lemonade.
For whatever reason I just don’t “get” beer. I have friends who brew their own, and read books and websites devoted to beer, and spend upwards of $8 PER BOTTLE for some fancy something-or-other brewed by Bavarian underpants gnomes, and rave about the subtle hints of this and that… and it just breezes right over my head.
As far as I can determine, beer basically comes in two varieties: too watery and too bitter. And I’m not particularly crazy about either kind. Plus you have to drink so MUCH of the stuff, leaving you feeling bloated and sluggish. Like I said, I don’t see the appeal.
So I’m going to finish off this lemonade stuff and then go back to my all-time favorite drink: a double tequila with a tequila back, neat. The classics never go out of style.
pdb’s dealing with a veterinary emergency for one of his four-legged babies. Those of you who’ve been there know what weekend emergency vet visits cost. Give him a hand if you can.
My crappy little Linksys 100-Mbit switch has developed the charming habit of periodically dropping the whole LAN into 10-Mbit, half-duplex mode. A quick power-cycle brings it back to 100-Mbit, full-duplex, but I think its days are numbered.
Most of the house is already set up with Cat-5e so all I really need to go gigabit is a new switch. Any recommendations for a high-quality but affordable 8-port switch?
The Good: Burned up 150 rounds of Georgia Arms 9mm FMJ in the Hi-Power. No Malfunctions, minimal fouling, no problems of any kind. It certainly appears to be good stuff.
The Bad: My shooting was a big bucket of fuck. Struggled to hold 3″ at 10 yards. It certainly didn’t help that the temperature was near 90 and humid, but I just could not get into a rhythm.
Worked on controlled pairs for a while and I was consistently throwing the second shot 2-3″ below the first. I think I’m overcompensating from the recoil of the first shot and dipping the gun. Dryfire practice is useless for this, since my “big” guns are all single-action. That means I can’t just snap in twice, I have to break my grip to either rack the slide or thumb-cock the hammer. The obvious but expensive solution: more live-fire practice.
I called it quits after a half-hour because the sweat was just pouring off of me and I could feel myself getting sloppy. Next time I’ll have to use a bit of forethought and NOT hit the range during the hottest part of the day.
Still, a bad day at the range beats the everliving shit out of a good day at work.
And I for twenty minutes yesterday felt great, felt insensate,
But when you’re twenty minutes late your fate is patient and will wait.
- Richard Hell
I’m drop-dead tired but I know I won’t be able to fall asleep for another 2 or 3 hours yet. These 8 AM shifts just do not work for me; I think once my current contract expires I’ll either insist on going back to afternoons or find a new gig.
Tomorrow I plan to hit the range with the Hi-Power and test out that new Georgia Arms ammo. Maybe dig out my Browning Semi-Auto 22 and put a few hundred rounds of rimfire downrange, too.
Right now I’m going to listen to the rest of Berlin, wrap up the day’s emails and try to get sleepy.
Oh, and Breda!
… to destroy a package! Big Brown Truck dropped off last week’s Georgia Arms order today. It came in a minty GI ammo can with a fresh gasket:
And inside:
550 rounds only fills the can halfway; I think this means I need to buy the 1000-rounder next time.
The bulk FMJ has once-fired brass with mixed headstamps, predominately Winchester. OAL is consistent, at least within the limited precision of my crappy dial caliper. Primers are uniformly seated just below flush. Overall quality looks great, though I haven’t inspected every round yet.
The Gold Dot ammo is put up in new, nickel-plated Starline brass and looks almost identical to the Speer stuff I carry in my CZ and HP.
The proof, of course, will be in the shooting. I’ll run some through the Hi-Power and save the rest for my CZ 85. Stay tuned.
Here’s the Pogues’ “USA” off of Peace & Love. Fantastic track that almost excuses “Blue Heaven”. Almost.
The video’s goofy and worthless, but the song’s worth a listen. For those who have trouble with Shane’s vocals, full lyrics here. It always reminds me of a few failed relationships, except for the “cold bright needle” bit. That part reminds me of one very specific relationship. Heroin’s a helluva drug.
I found the thing
For which I prayed
And came back home
To the USA
With a heart of stone
And now I know
That it’s the same
Wherever you go
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