Just back from dragging Jilly on her first “trick’r'treak” escapade with Grandpa #2, final stop of the night was at Grandpa #1′s place. Thankfully he, showing presence of mind that I didn’t have, had his digital camera on hand for some quick snaps of Jilly in her bumblebee costume.
Pics will be posted as soon as I have them. I’m now quite beat. I’m going to smoke a cigarette, have a bit ‘o scotch and clean a rifle or two. What else would you expect me to do when zombies are openly prowling my neighborhood?
[Edited to add: I started off cleaning my M1 Garand, but as satellite had Dawn of the Dead '04 playing every hour I ended up with the VZ58 sitting in my lap. Strange huh?]
In a recent post James Rummel pointed out that he was suprised to see a British actor exercising proper trigger finger discipline (James is a self defence instructor, and has certainly forgotten more than I know about safe firearms handling). I replied that while watching the series “Spaced” I had noticed more than a few instances of proper handling of firearms, but on consideration I decided to put my money where my mouth was and double check those British actors.
Two scenes popped straight to mind;
Season 1 Episode 3
This episode begins with Tim zapping a small group of zombies that have magically invaded his apartment with what apears to be a Remington 870. Despite my numerous attempts to get a clear shot, I cannot tell whether his finger is on the trigger when he is not actually firing the shotgun. However, as he is clearly engaging his target we have to score this one as correct.
Safe: 1 Unsafe: 0
» Read more..
I’ve had a few complaints that pictures of the new homestead have been rather scarce. This was on my mind when I woke up and noticed the snow falling, so I grabbed the digital camera and walked across the street to grab a few snaps. Here then, for your enjoyment, is our little home with a light dusting of snow.
[Edited to add: Can't spot any of the 5 perimeter cameras, can you?]
Wearing her new jammies I can’t shake the feeling she’s going to haggle with me over the price of a droid.
At the suggestion of Say Uncle here’s a google bomb effort to counter the anti-gunners google efforts.
Sensible gun laws
Sensible gun laws
Ban all guns
Ban gun ownership
Just doing my part, feel free to join in.
If you liked “Shaun of the Dead”, and grooved on “Spaced” then how can you fail to get excited by the prospect of an action/cop/comedy with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost.
Oh yeah, that’s right. Hot Fuzz is on the way. And I, for one, can hardly wait.
This isn’t directed at anything in particular, it’s more of a general “where did intestinal fortitude disappear to?” query.
Have we become that whiney? Are we collectively that desperate for some unique qualities that we now wear our most traumatic experiences as some sort of badge of honour? Worse, some sort of badge of entitlement? Why is it that I feel forced to pussy-foot around these days worrying that a stray comment may be taken out of context, or that the punchline of my joke may in fact offend someone who was, as it turns out, molested by spider-monkeys in an Irish pub on St. Patricks day while a priest and a rabbi drank at the next table?
I’ve long contended that it’s not the adversity you face, but rather the manner in which you face adversity that speaks to your character. But it’s not all about the manner in which we overcome obstacles is it? It’s about forcing recognition of our individual struggles and commanding special treatment because we’re still “dealing” with these problems.
Are we really that desperate?