Bits & Pieces
I Really Need To Go Home & Sleep Some More.
I'm now the owner of 1000 large pistol primers, thanks to the sharp eyes and capacious wallet of the Cisco Kid, who attended the local Gun Show on Sunday while I lay abed like a narcoleptic tortoise. With the purchase of a bucket of some suitable propellant, I will have the final ingredient to start churning out some handloaded ammo for my sixgun. I'm told there's a nice bulky powder called "Trail Boss" that should give sufficient velocity and fill up the cavernous .45 Long Colt case, negating the need for any filler material. It's more efficient loading without it, but I was kinda looking forward to a wee pinch of Blue Dot and 40cc's of dry Cream of Wheat...
I'm still waiting to hear from NTB, who are supposed to have called me by now to let me know my tires were shipped and are waiting to be installed. They'd better not screw this up. The only thing standing in the way of me making a long-awaited out-of-town trip this Saturday are those shaky old tires on the truck.
My friend Rockhauler has a new mailing address and a new blog, and I'll have to think of a new moniker for him, since he's quit the heavy-hauling trade and has become an expatriate down in Costa Rica. Well, until I think of something suitably snarky, just call him the Banana Republican. I was sure he'd be overrun with wild monkeys and sloths and fruit bats, kinda like we have squirrels and possums, but mostly he's just getting daily rainfall and the occasional junta.
It's Mom's birthday today. Those who know the path via Facebook are more than welcome to go let her know that she's WAAAAYYYY past due her entry into the local geriatric rest home. Just kidding, Mom! You know I won't have you institutionalized until your pension runs out!!
OK, for those completely scandalized by that last bit, you ought to know that it's been a running joke between Mom & I for the last 20 years about throwing her into Incontinence Acres once she hit a certain age...
I'm now the owner of 1000 large pistol primers, thanks to the sharp eyes and capacious wallet of the Cisco Kid, who attended the local Gun Show on Sunday while I lay abed like a narcoleptic tortoise. With the purchase of a bucket of some suitable propellant, I will have the final ingredient to start churning out some handloaded ammo for my sixgun. I'm told there's a nice bulky powder called "Trail Boss" that should give sufficient velocity and fill up the cavernous .45 Long Colt case, negating the need for any filler material. It's more efficient loading without it, but I was kinda looking forward to a wee pinch of Blue Dot and 40cc's of dry Cream of Wheat...
I'm still waiting to hear from NTB, who are supposed to have called me by now to let me know my tires were shipped and are waiting to be installed. They'd better not screw this up. The only thing standing in the way of me making a long-awaited out-of-town trip this Saturday are those shaky old tires on the truck.
My friend Rockhauler has a new mailing address and a new blog, and I'll have to think of a new moniker for him, since he's quit the heavy-hauling trade and has become an expatriate down in Costa Rica. Well, until I think of something suitably snarky, just call him the Banana Republican. I was sure he'd be overrun with wild monkeys and sloths and fruit bats, kinda like we have squirrels and possums, but mostly he's just getting daily rainfall and the occasional junta.
It's Mom's birthday today. Those who know the path via Facebook are more than welcome to go let her know that she's WAAAAYYYY past due her entry into the local geriatric rest home. Just kidding, Mom! You know I won't have you institutionalized until your pension runs out!!
OK, for those completely scandalized by that last bit, you ought to know that it's been a running joke between Mom & I for the last 20 years about throwing her into Incontinence Acres once she hit a certain age...
posted by El Capitan | 4:39 PM
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