The Scottish Military Field Hospital

For A Wee Drappit O' Tha Usquaebach, I'll Nae Repeat This Jape!

Found online, somewhere...

The Scottish Military Field Hospital

The new commander in Iraq hears that a Scottish regiment has a specialized field hospital that's doing fantastic things with the troops. He wants to know what is so special about the place, so he arranges a tour.

When he gets to the ward, it's full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness. He's perplexed, so goes up to the first bed and greets the soldier there.

The patient replies:

"Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm."

The general is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.
That soldier responds:

"Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit."

Even more confused, and his grin now rictus-like, the commander moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:

"Wee sleekit, cowerin, timorous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle."

Now seriously troubled, the general turns to the accompanying doctor and asks, "Is this a psychiatric ward?"

"No, not at all," replies the doctor. "This is the Serious Burns unit."

Drill, Baby, Drill!!

Government By Magic Eight Ball?

Wow. This was unexpected...

(Reuters) - The Obama administration is expected to announce by Wednesday its updated plan for oil and natural gas drilling in U.S. waters, including whether to allow exploration for the first time along the U.S. East Coast.

Obama's already pissed off the Peaceniks by not immediately getting out of Afghanistan and Iraq, the Huggy-Squeezies by not closing Gitmo, and the gays for not moving on Don't Ask Don't Tell.

Makes me wonder if he'll have *any* Democrats voting for him in 2012...

The Gore-acle Claims Two

New From Birds-Eye Foods: Flash-Frozen Activists!

There's this phrase in Latin... De mortuis nil nisi bonum dicendum est.

I'm not sure it applies in this case.

Famed global warming activist James Schneider and a journalist friend were both found frozen to death on Saturday, about 90 miles from South Pole Station, by the pilot of a ski plane practicing emergency evacuation procedures.

The phrase means, more or less, "Let nothing be said of the dead but what is good".

I mean, they're dead, so what's the point of pointing out HOW F$#!%*&^@$ STUPID MUST THEY HAVE BEEN TO TRY TO REACH THE GOT-DAM SOUTH POLE IN JULY ON SNOWMOBILES!?!?!?!

The dude's wife seems to be short on the neurons, as well...

"He kept talking about when they 'get down to chili', and I thought they were talking about the order in which they would consume their food supplies", Mrs. Schneider recounted. "I had no idea they were talking about Chile, the country from which you usually fly or sail in order to reach Antarctica".

And, the world's carbon footprint shrinks by four cold feet...

Found at Paw Paw's Place

UPDATE:D'OH!!! It's a hoax. It was just too delicious an irony to be true, I suppose... Thanks to commenter Tom for the tip.

Buy A Gun Day Gets Nearer!

It's Shiny! It Blows Sh!t Up!

Time For More Shooty Goodness!

Remember, April 15th is Buy A Gun Day!

Today's Gotta Have:

Overland Stage Commemorative sawed off black powder shotgun
10 Gauge Double
13 inch barrels
1 of 250
Handy Carrying Case!

Yours for the bargain price of 1500 simoleons.

It might be a bit slow to load, but it sure speaks with authority!



(Click For Embiggification!)

Death By Elevator

Asymmetric Warfare In Downtown Houston!

You know what's fun?

Floating a noxious airbiscuit in the elevator just as you step off, then sending the car up to the 14th floor to ambush an unsuspecting bean-counter from Finance!

Hey, you do what you can to get through the workday...

Big Cigars And Secondhand Guitars

Spending Money Like A Drunken Democrat!

Interesting day so far. I ventured out to the Studio Movie Grill up in Copperfield to see 'The Bounty Hunter' at the morning matinee. I get the feeling that Jennifer Aniston is a neurotic mess in real life, but damn if she's not nice to look at for 2 hours...

The grilled chicken salad I had for brunch while watching the flick had a nice little bonus. A thumbnail-sized piece of clear plastic somehow got mixed in along with the balsamic vinaigrette, and I discovered it when it brought my lettuce munching to an abrupt halt. No damage done to my pie hole, thankfully. I imagine it must have chipped off the salad tongs or some other kitchen gadget. The manager just about shit his drawers when I handed it to him after the show. I'm sure for a moment he thought I was going to whip out a Torts attorney, but I just asked him to be sure and check out the kitchen for wandering plastic shards.

Following the show, I moseyed down Hwy 6 to a couple of pawn shops. I've been shopping for a guitar to replace my old Silvertone archtop. It's not likely that the Silvertone's neck can be reattached and remain playable, so I've been on the lookout for a used Ovation, Washburn or Takamine acoustic/electric in good condition.

I found a nice Takamine at the first pawn shop, but they just wouldn't budge on the $350 price tag. The second shop had more reasonable prices, but nothing I was too interested in. They had a great looking Seagull acoustic, but I'd really prefer to get one with a built-in pickup.

I did score a couple of nice finds at the 2nd shop... A DVD of Michael Caine's 'The Italian Job' in primo condition, and a nearly-new Canon A1000 digital camera.

I'd almost decided to go with a Panasonic Lumix, but the opportunity to stick with a Canon made the decision a no-brainer. I'm already familiar with the camera's basic setup and controls, and even though I'll need a different flavor of memory cards, the $70 price tag was too good to refuse. So, I'm back in the digital image business!

After the pawn shop hops, I stopped in at Cigars of the World on Hwy 6 just north of Clay Rd. for a couple of Gurkha sticks and a jar of humidifier goop for my humidor. They had some of Kinky Friedman's cigars on hand, and I couldn't resist picking up a couple to sample along with the Gurkhas.

Only Kinky could name a cigar "The Texas Jewboy"! I got one of those, and a "Kinkycristo". The bands are fantastic. Now that I think about it, I think I'll start covering my humidor in cigar bands...

As I was checking out, I saw they stocked some Gurkha ball caps, and in a typical impulse buy, I grabbed one. My 'El Capitan' hat I got from Zippo has seen a lot of miles, and you can never have too many ball caps.

So, newly crowned with my spiffy Gurkha Cigars cap, I head to Office Depot to get a memory card for the camera, and while waiting in the checkout line, I catch a really strong aroma of cigar. Hmm... I have yet to light a stick this week. Must be the guy in front of me.

Back in the truck, there's that cigar smell again... And arriving home, there it is again! Must be the neighbor burning a stogie.

Nope. It was me. Well, it was my new hat. If you hang a fabric ball cap on the wall of a cigar lounge for an extended period of time, chances are it's gonna soak up some of the "ambience"...

Heh. Now I just gotta figure out how to de-smokify my cap! Maybe I'll take a picture of the process with the new Canon!

Buy A Gun Day Approaches!

It's Shiny! It Blows Sh!t Up!

Howdy, my little chickadees!

April 15th is Buy A Gun Day! I'll be posting some "Gotta-haves" between now & then, and assuming I can find a digital camera to replace the dead Canon A85, I'll post something new & shiny of my own on April 15th.

Today's Gotta Have:

Dan Wesson Super Mag Revolver
.357 Maximum
Custom Hogue Grips
Simmons red dot sight.

Yours for the bargain price of 900 smackeroos.

For when you absolutely have to shoot a moose in a neighboring county from the comfort of your front porch...

Not A Good Omen!

I Better Check The Employment Ads...

Weird day at work. I received an email (with attached resume) from a guy asking about the position I'm currently occupying.

Damn, I knew budget cuts might lead to layoffs, but aren't they supposed to give you a couple of weeks notice?

Let's hope it's just a big mistake...

Dark Night

Aggravated Dumbassery In The Dead Of Night!

This little drama played itself out last night:

Power knocked out after car hits pole

HOUSTON—Crews were working to restore power at a northwest Houston apartment complex and nearby homes Tuesday morning after a car smashed into a power pole.

It happened on Shadowdale at Tiger Trail.

Witnesses said the driver may not have known the street was a dead-end and was unable to stop in time.

Police said the driver fled the scene, but left the car behind.

Investigators said they would be paying a visit to the address where the car is registered.

As it happens, I'm in one of those nearby homes. I'm not sure what woke me up, but around 1 a.m. I realized my fan wasn't blowing, and it was darker than the inside of a cat.

I placed an errant toe or two upon Pookie Cat's tail in my brief trek to find a flashlight, adding a piercing feline shriek to the darkness. A cell phone call to the Local Power Conglomerate confirmed that the outage was not limited to my house.

Sleep was not re-achieved until after 3 a.m., and then only for brief periods. The flashing lights and heavy equipment needed to erect the power pole weren't conducive to slumber. (hehehe... he said "erect pole"... hehehehe)

The Power Gnomes finally restored service about 7 a.m., just in time for me to get up and go to work. So, I'm really needing a nap about now...

The National Nightmare Begins

The Horror... The Horror...

No, not Obamacare, though that's a close second.

The terrifying event on our horizon?

Rosie O'Donnell is trying to return to television!!

Daytime TV is about to get Rosier: Rosie O'Donnell is planning to develop a new talk show, according to the Hollywood Reporter.

O'Donnell is targeting fall 2011 for the debut of her new vehicle -- around the same time that Oprah Winfrey will take her final bow on The Oprah Winfrey Show.

The comedian, 48, is no stranger to the daytime airwaves. The talk show vet hosted the Emmy-winning "Rosie O'Donnell Show" for six years before her gig on "The View."

They posted a picture of the nasty harridan. Anyone ever see 'Jaws'?


"And, you know, the thing about a Rosie... she's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes. When she comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living.."

Or something like that, anyway...

On The Menu: Bunny Stew!

It's Wabbit Season!!

Looks like someone's cooking up something tasty for dinner!

My, that's a big sharp knife. Who do we know that's fond of sharp blades?
(Other than me, of course...)



Man, that kitchen looks familiar. Where have I seen it before?

Oh, yeah! Cooking a special bean recipe!

WTF Are They Wearing??

Sex & The Siliconed Titty?

Apparently there's going to be another Sex & The City movie...

I didn't see the first one, though I will admit to watching the series on an infrequent basis, mostly to see whatsername that played Charlotte York.

This is a released promo still from the movie:


First thing that came to mind when I saw it was this shot from another movie involving deserts. That may have been the aim of the movie studio.


One thing's for sure, there won't be anything nearly as funny in 'SATC 2: Botoxed In Brooklyn' as the ping pong ball scene from 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert'!

Project LOLA - Day 180

It's Not A Diet, It's Just An Extended Dose Of Masochism!

180 days. 6 months. Half a year.

Fast food is a fading memory. I used to go get the grilled chicken wraps at Sonic, but the last time I ate one was the beginning of February. It's been even longer since I ate the grilled chicken strips at Jack in the Box. I did venture into Mickey D's once or twice for a sugar-free iced coffee. I gazed longingly at the fresh-baked cookies, but managed to avoid buying any.

Things aren't perfect on the food front. My weekend sushi treat has expanded to 2-3 times a week. It's not a huge calorie bump, but it does put me over the 2000 cal/day limit. You could eat a truckload of rice & fish and not get half the calories that you would in a double cheeseburger & fries, but it's expensive, and I need to find another treat that's not full of white rice. (FYI: Brown rice makes crappy sushi!)

I hit a Chinese buffet for the first time in over a year with my friend Zibig 2 weeks ago. To my credit, I stuck with (mostly) healthy food choices & sushi, and instead of a huge ladle or two of the sugar-coated deep fried items, I got just one or two bites of the seafood & non-fried chicken dishes.

My salt levels are appalling due to all the soy sauce on the sushi and the sodium levels in canned soups. I don't know that I'd recommend my diet to anyone with high blood pressure. I mentioned this concern to my doctor, but his opinion was that my blood pressure was tolerable, and he'd prefer to have some extra salt going down my pie hole rather than chilidogs, ice cream and donuts.

I must confess to a major sin. I ate a french fry. My nephew Sammy insisted. I also snuck a bite of my sister's baked 'tater when we took Dad out to dinner. I said three Hail Broccolis as penance...

People tell me they can see a difference in my appearance, and I suppose they're being honest. I really don't notice any major changes, just some minor things. I look kinda deflated, like a week-old balloon. My clothes fit better, but aside from a little belt-tightening, I still manage to fill 'em out. I can see veins & tendons moving around under the skin on my hands & feet. Hell, I can look down and see my feet without major contortions. That's a big plus, I suppose.

My fear is that I've hit a plateau. It's a common occurence for dieters, and occurs when your body adjusts to the lower calorie intake and goes into fat preservation mode. To keep the downward slide happening, you can either cut calories further, or increase your exercise. I'm still having some issues with my right knee, and I'm wanting to drop another 40 or 50 lbs. before I start to do a daily groundpound, to borrow Jimbo's phrase.

There's an exercise & swimming pool over at a City Parks facility nearby that has a walk-in feature, so you don't have to climb steps or ladders. I'm thinking it might be a good time to go sign up and start walking some laps. The water resistance is good for burning calories, and the buoyancy will keep my knee from imploding.

So, no Spandex clothing and hot monkey sex with supermodels on the horizon anytime soon. Hell, it's going to take another 6 months of this just to get back to where I was back in 2002 when I moved to Houston, and I was at the "Damn, that's a big ol' fat guy" stage back then, before ballooning up to the "Get a tugboat and haul him back out to sea" stage that kicked off this project.

I'll keep you posted...

How Much For Just Torts & Contracts??

I Need A Rich Relative In Very Poor Health.

Well, so much for THAT idea...

I've been hearing this phrase almost every week from so many different people at work:

"What? You're not a lawyer?"

Nope. Never even took the LSAT. While my chosen profession requires a metric assload of knowledge in employment law, I'd never seriously considered law school or any post-baccalaureate work.

My boss tells me I'd enjoy law school. I hear this quite frequently.

So, I look up the entrance requirements at the local lawyer-factory.

My grades in college weren't stellar, but I test well, and I can BS on the application like no one else. Yeah, I can probably get in.

How much is this gonna be? Hmmm... let's see... Part time, evening classes, will take approximately 4 years with a Spring, Summer and Fall semester schedule, 12 semesters in all.

Each semester's average cost: $8800.

*Blink* <---- (Borrowed Bou Blink)

Well, maybe I won't be going to Law School after all...

Cowboy Blob's Caption Contest!

Ya Gotta Be In It To Win It!

I haven't done one of Cowboy Blob's caption contests in a really long time, so this Friday's Photoshop Phoolishness is dedicated to the task!

If you want to join in the fun, go here, and come up with a caption for this photo:



UPDATE: WOOHOOO!! I WON!!

My entry:

The Bar S boys weren't too thrilled with Cookie's choice of apparel, but everyone agreed he made a damn good fritatta!

(Click To Embiggenate!)

Right Time + Right Place = WIN!!!

Free Black & Tans For Everyone!

Wow. There's not much better than having a beautiful woman give you free beer.

Well, OK, maybe giving you free beer and a BJ... Still, never look a gift giver in the mouth, unless she IS giving you a BJ. Then, a discreet check for chancres and open sores is perfectly acceptable. I mean, you gotta wonder about strange wimmens handing out free BJs!

But I digress...

I got out of a late-running meeting, and debating stopping off for some dinner or just going home. It was a fairly crappy day, so I decided to stop by the Kroger on W. Gray to pick up some sushi.

It's a great Kroger store. It's right on the edge of River Oaks, and just jam packed with extremely rich wimmens. They spare no expense in cosmetic surgery, exercise trainers and personal grooming. The place is just wall-to-wall eye candy!

So, I wander in, grab some sushi from their captive sushi slicers, and head over to the veggie section. I pass by a woman giving out free samples of Harp Lager and Guinness Stout. She's about 9.75 on a 1-10 scale, and looks like a cross between 1965 Diana Ross and 1995 Tyra Banks. Just smokin' hot!

I grab my veggies, swing by the soup aisle, and head for the checkout.

My timing couldn't have been better. Indeed, you could almost say it was a preordained conclusion. As I get up to the register, the Beer Sample Hottie was telling the cashier "I'm sorry! I asked my boss, but I can't let you have the leftovers because you work for Kroger! I'm so tired of taking this stuff home! I already have a cabinet full!"

I chuckled and said "Man, that's a rough problem to have!"

"Do you drink beer?" She asked.

"Oh, from time to time." I replied.

"Do you like Guinness?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well, here you go! Enjoy!" she said, gifting me with two full sixpacks.

SCORE!!!!!

Final tally: 5 bottles Guinness Stout, 4 bottles Harp Lager, 3 cans Guinness Draft!!

I'm not sure how many calories are in a bottle of Guinness, but I'm sure I'll manage to fit one into the diet from time to time!

A Well-Made Black & Tan:

The Woodlouse That Ate Pittsburgh!

Run For Your Lives!!!

Just one river too many, I suppose...

Too much water just attracts the vermin!

Dad Turns 74!

Tales From Casa De Capitan

I'm heading out after work to meet my parents and sister & her kids for dinner. Dad is celebrating his 74th spin around the sun.

One of the benefits of having grandmothers that were obsessive geneaologists is that we've got a good record of both sides of the family going back to the Stone Age.

OK, maybe not quite that far, but Grandma Annabel (Dad's mom) took a trip over to England way back when, and she got a good solid line on our forebears all the way to the time when some of the family backed Harry the Saxon against others of my kinfolk backing some interloping Norman named William over some swampland in Sussex. The rest of the crew were still brewing uisge beatha out of barley and peat moss and painting themselves blue north of Hadrian's Wall.

My long-belabored point is... we've got the birth and death dates of a goodly number of my ancestors. As it turns out, with this birthday, Dad is now the longest-lived male in his family going back 7 generations.

It's good to know that our recommended expiration date for males is now going past the 65 year mark that's been the usual cut-off date. Dad's still in pretty good health, and with the addition of grandkids to the family, he's doing all he can to live right and stick around for a while longer.

That, IMHO, is a good thing. Happy Birthday, Dad! Many more to you!

Steamer Antidote

It Ain't Eye Bleach, But It'll Do!

Here's my adorable niece Gracie chewin' on a cracker!

Man, That's Just Nasty!

Serious Regretticus Maximus!

I'm starting to wonder if posting that last mess was a good idea. It seemed pretty funny at the time, but I'll feel a lot better when it crawls off the bottom of the page.

A nice rack like that just shouldn't be treated that way...

NOT Safe For Work!

And Kinda Disgusting & Misogynistic, Too...

I'm getting some ice out of the breakroom freezer, and I catch sight of a co-worker's choice of lunches. It's a Healthy Choice Café Steamer.

Look, kiddos, a steamer is usually one of three things, a clam, a turd, or a bamboo cooking utensil. Not a name for a frozen dinner!

There's a sexual perversion known as a 'Cleveland Steamer', which, being the gentle soul that I am, was the first thing that popped in my head when I saw the frozen entrée.

The image below is the result of an unfettered perverse imagination...



(Click To Embiggificate)
(Not that you'd want to...)

Blistered Bunghole

Now They'll Probably Create Asshole Protection Laws...

One of my co-workers had to go to the bunghole doctor.

I'm probably violating all kinds of HIPAA regs by relating this story, but it's just too amusing to keep to myself.

OK, here's the deal...

There's a shadowy cabal of The Man's minions that enforce the sanitation and air quality of one of the bathrooms on a certain floor at an unnamed facility. This unelected, unappointed band of guerilla activists are flaunting established wage/hour laws and job duty descriptions, and on their own initiative, are keeping one of the bathrooms sparkling clean and minty fresh.

The mysterious gang of malcontents is not content with the regular cleaning crew's supplies or cleaning efforts, and have, without authorization or official permission, taken it upon themselves to surreptitiously replace the scratchy institutional rolls of bumwad with the soft, cushiony kind, and also deposited wholly unorthodox air fresheners and cleaning products in the small tiled chamber.

While entrance to the throne room cannot be regulated, there are ways of punishing transgressors who sully the pristine interior, or try to remove any of the supplies.

Recently, a minion from a distant facility came in for a meeting, and having heard of the wondrous shitter, availed themselves of the pleasures of the throne room.

Unfortunately, there was a bumwad malfunction...

See, one of the supplies kept on hand is a container of Clorox Disinfecting Wipes. These are used to wipe down the seat and handle prior to use. The container looks like this:



The visitor, however, did not read the warning label and usage instructions and jumped to the conclusion that the Clorox Wipes could be used just like flushable Wet Wipes, which are stored in a similarly shaped container, pictured below:



The visitor compounded their error by diligently scrubbing down their entire nether region with the Clorox Wipe.

An allergic reaction to one of the disinfectants or detergents became apparent in a remarkably short span of time. Word from the Security Desk is that the visitor attempted to hobble out to his car without allowing either buttcheek to contact the other one. A visit to the bum-doctor soon followed. I can imagine the resulting diagnosis will be a world-class case of contact dermatitis, aggravated by close proximity to the Pink Starfish of Pantaloonia.

Let this be a lesson to you, buoys and gulls! Read the frikkin' label before you apply anything to your balloon knot!

You just can't make this shit up...

OK, all together now!

"RECTUM? DAMN NEAR KILLED 'IM!!!"

Shooting The .44 Magnum

Gun Fun From Long Ago

I've never really been regarded as a Gun Blogger, for the simple reason that I just don't blog about 'em often enough. In spite of my sizeable accumulation of boomsticks, there were always plenty of other writers who had that blog category pretty well sewn up.

Nevertheless, here's a gun tale from way back when, when my teenage mouth was writing checks my scant experience just couldn't cover.

I'd held a subscription to Guns & Ammo magazine ever since I could scrape together the $12/year tariff. I guess I started in the early 80's and kept it up for a decade or so. Add to that the regular issues of American Rifleman you got with your NRA membership, a compulsion to pay huge overdue fines for gun books from the local library, and I was a walking encyclopedia of firearms legend and lore.

Or so I thought...

I'd been deer hunting and target shooting since I was knee-high to an armadillo, but most of my trigger time going into my high school years had been behind long guns. My pistol experience was mostly pellets and BBs, and short on gunpowder-fueled poppers. There was a brief episode involving an Eye-talian nickel-plated .25 Auto of extremely questionable provenance purchased for $40 when I was 14, but the less said about that, the better.

I fell bass-ackwards into a gig teaching archery to a bunch of kids one summer, and one of the side bennies was the opportunity to play 'gofer' on the rifle range as well. The owner of the facility had a pretty good stash of guns, and loved taking them out for demonstrations.

One afternoon he was caught up in one project or another, and asked if I wouldn't mind doing the demo of his Ruger Super Blackhawk. He had a box of home-brewed .44 Magnum loads, and a couple of boxes of .44 Specials.

"OK, Cap...", he sez to me. "You know how to operate a single-action?"

Of course I did! In theory, anyway...

"First, show 'em how to load & unload it. Then run a cylinder through it to demonstrate, and let 'em each pop off a few rounds afterwards as long as the ammo holds out. You can shoot the magnums if you want, but make sure the kids only shoot the .44 Specials. I don't want the gun dropped or any bruised foreheads from the recoil!"

Man, I was all over that job! The fact that I'd never actually shot anything bigger than a .38 was immaterial.

I showed the kids how to pop open the loading gate, how to run the ejector, and how on a single-action you had to cock the hammer before each shot. I even showed them how to pull the cylinder pin and remove the cylinder.

I then loaded up the revolver with three rounds of the light .44 Special loads, followed by 3 Magnum rounds. My plan was to demonstrate the difference between a regular load and a magnum load.

OK, eye and ear protection on, range was clear, let's do this... First, the .44 Specials...

I lined up on the target. This was going to be just a light shove of recoil... Just a .44 Special...

Click-ka-click... Squeeze... **KA_WHAAAAAMMMM!!!!!**

The pistol jumps like it's trying to reach escape velocity.

...holy shit... WTF was that bomb going off???

Click-ka-click... Squeeze... **KA_WHAAAAAMMMM!!!!!*

Oh, bloody effin' hell! These .44 Specials are killing me!

Click-ka-click... Squeeze... **KA_WHAAAAAMMMM!!!!!*

OMG, Feels like I've inverted my hand. My palm now faces the other way...

I'm scared shitless. Those three rounds have numbed my hand. The next three are the Magnums! WTF am I gonna do?

2 dozen kids are waiting to see El Capitan finish the cylinder. Well, the show must go on...

This is gonna suuuuuuuuuck!!!

Click-ka-click... Squeeze...

*Pop*

Where's the kaboom? There's supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom!!

Two more rounds left... *Pop* *Pop*

You gotta be shitting me!

Somehow, I'd bollixed up the order of the rounds during loading, or I'd forgotten which way the cylinder rotated. I'd fired off the magnum rounds first!

Not my finest hour, but even though I knew I was facing severe pain and possible bone damage, at least I had the balls to pull the trigger on the "magnum" loads!

Age Takes Its Toll...

Wrinkles?? Quelle Horreur!!

You wouldn't hink a big ol' fat man would have any room for vanity, would you?

Neither did I, until just recently...

Believe it or not, there are a few minor advantages to being hugely overweight.

A) All things being equal, fat people are harder to kidnap.

B) Most fat folks, when tossed in deep water, bob like a cork.
(I am the exception to that rule...)

C) We are prized as bed warmers on cold nights, and don't kick up a huge fuss about cold feet.

and D) We don't get all wrinkly when we get older.

Unless, of course, we start losing weight...

While squinting into the mirror to trim the 'stache last weekend, I noticed some new additions to the face. Little bitty crow's feet outlining either eye. Son of a F%&^$#)% B*%&$!!!

Look, just shut up about "The wrinkles just add character!". I've enjoyed looking half a decade younger than I really am. It's only going to get worse as I keep shrinking, too.

Sigh... What's next? Cataracts? Hammertoes? Bunions?

It's enough to make you want to devour a deep-dish pizza...