20 September 2008

More pics from the mud bowl

Great picture of Dave, gun in full recoil... Now if I could just figure out what's up with that face he's making when he shoots!



Picture of yours truly - the gun started out unloaded on the table, great picture caught right after I'd loaded the mag and am starting to rack the slide....



Cool picture of Greg - the Animal - on many levels. You can see how deep the mud was, the fierce look of determination, and then check out the brass. Two pieces in the air, and the camera caught the next round being loaded into the chamber - pretty cool!



And finally, here's the blog father showing some great finger and muzzle control - this is how you should do it, boys and girls.

Now THAT's funny

19 September 2008

International Talk Like a Pirate Day

Avast, ye scurvy dogs. Today be "International Talk Like a Pirate Day." Look alive, ye bilge rats, get yer fingers outta the bunghole, scrub the poopdeck, and hoist that there mainsail.

Wanna see a real man's yardarm?

Arrr!

18 September 2008

More MudBowl 2008

This video of Catfish pretty much sums up our 2008 Open/L10 Nationals experience this year. This was our 4th stage of day 1, and after rolling through the first 3 stages pretty quickly in spite of the rain, we had to wait behind 2 full squads before we could shoot this one. Yeah, that is 2 hours standing in the pouring rain to shoot. Kinda takes the wind out of your sails just a bit. But we still had a great time - there's nothing quite like putting on the same soggy, smelly cleats 3 days in a row and standing ankle-deep in mud! Can't wait 'til next year...

17 September 2008

Mud Bowl, part deux

Snapped some pics from this year's USPSA nationals - and yeah, it was pretty damn muddy.

Here's The Girl....



And JR....



And yours truly after the first stage, last day...

Now that's class

Looks like one of Dallas' own has stepped in the mierda once again.

In a video posted on YouTube, Howard is shown on a football field at a charity flag football game. As the national anthem plays in the background, Howard approaches a camera and says: “‘The Star Spangled Banner’ is going on right now. I don’t even celebrate that (expletive). I’m black.”
Yep, that's right, folks. The same America that has given this moron the opportunity to make millions of dollars playing basketball is the same America that he feels compelled to spit on.

What an asshole.

16 September 2008

Nicholas

After a long day at work, one resplendent with hate, ignorance and stupidity, I was ready for someone else to serve my dinner. Of course, the restaurant I chose was packed and noisy. Most of the noise came from squealing children whose parents, equally as tired as I, were content to let them caterwaul at will.

During the course of the meal, I had glanced around, taking notice of the sociological experiment that is the restaurant. There was an Asian family there, the kids in elementary school, still enamored with Star Wars as evidenced by the light saber. Another family had a small child who didn't much care for his high chair, and was sharing his displeasure with everyone within earshot. There was an older couple, sitting with each other on the same side of the booth. I only noted in passing the three women and a little boy in a booth just behind and to my left. The little boy looked tired, resting on his mom's shoulder, and he had an abrasion above his left eye - it looked as if he'd fallen and bonked it pretty well.

Dinner went on, with the predictable botching of the order, constant aggravation of the noisy restaurant, the irritation at paying too much for food, the continual remembrance of the day's events; people acting mean, petty, and selfish. Grown men and women taking offence at the slightest thing, all adding up to what has too often become the norm: just wanting some quiet, away from the meanness and burdensome routine of the daily grind.

I paid my bill, and as I handed the check to the waiter, the 3 ladies with the little boy stood up.

I glanced, thought nothing, then heard, "what's your name?"

I blinked, taken aback, because the little boy on his mom's shoulder had raised his head, and looking at me, asked again, "what's your name?"

"My name's Jim. What's yours?"

"Nicholas." And he put out his hand to shake mine.

"It's very nice to meet you, Nicholas."

And that was it. Children are here to remind us that we're not as important as we like to think we are, and that more often than not, we need to stop and appreciate those around us, and take a moment to make new friends.

It's been a very good day.