Wed Mar 10, 2010
THE PRODIGAL CAT
and the cat came back
and the cat came back
Today is dreary, raining, and chilly. Not the early spring fare we grew accustomed to for forty-eight hours here in Middle Georgia. When we were flooded by warmth and drenched in sunlight for the first time in months.
A good day to do little except bask in the companionship seven feline housemates, loaf a little, maybe attempt a few household chores while listening to music (e.g. a Warren Zeon favorite: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhRRWwH3Fro ) and to Libertarian Neal Boortz who is comparing the tactics President Obama is using to demonize the nation’s health insurance companies to those employed by Hitler vilifying the Jew as the scapegoat for all of Germany’s post war woes.
Yes, I said seven cats. Little Mauser who wandered off Monday Morning and was gone for two days and two nights returned to the fold at five this morning. She didn’t say a word about where she was or what she did during the long escape. She ate a little and fell asleep at the foot of my bed and there remains lost in her own dreams, safe.
Ciao, for now!!
[1] comments (36 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Mon Mar 08, 2010
SORRY FOR THE LAY OFF
and
THANKS FOR THE EMAILS
and
THANKS FOR THE EMAILS
The past few weeks have been very busy.
Lots of things to do for our MARION ROAD GUN CLUB and a bout with that I think was the old-fashioned flu.
Spent today looking for a missing cat....a pretty little calico named 'Mauser', vanished in the warmth of an alomst spring day. Been looking since about 10:00 AM today.
Back on the morrow.
[1] comments (44 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Fri Mar 05, 2010
K2-SPICE
A Deadly New Drug Killing Our Kids
A Deadly New Drug Killing Our Kids
What follows is a copy of an email sent in by a Macon resident which gives the skinny, or some of it anyway, on a legal dangerous, but legal drug which our kids can purchase easily, over the counter, in many locations. It may take a little time, but check the links, then tie your kid to his chair until he’s twenty-one or thirty-five.
Thanks to one of our very astute Nwatch Ladies for researching and bringing this to our attention...
Reliable sources say K2-Spice is broadly available in Macon.
Here is the most informative website. Kansas is working on State Legislation:
http://ksdocs.blogspot.com/2010/01/legislation-in-news-k2.html
"Teen Hospitalized after using fake pot" (video)
http://www.wsbtv.com/video/22739564/index.html
http://www.wsbtv.com/news/22708093/detail.html
Powerful 'Fake Pot' Sold In Georgia
Updated: 10:04 am EST March 2,2010
ATLANTA -- It looks like potpourri, but is smoked like pot; according to kids that are smoking it feels just like marijuana but even stronger.
It's a legal herb found at local smoke shops and gas stations marketed under names like K2, Sunset Gold and Nirvana.
Channel 2 Action News investigated and found the incense at several local smoke shops. "We sold 25 packs today of this. It flies!," one sales clerk said.
[1] comments (52 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Thu Mar 04, 2010
1 9 4 7
THIS FROM A FRIEND AND READER:
The year is 1947
Some of you will recall that on July 8, 1947, a little over 60 years ago, witnesses claim that an unidentified flying object (UFO) with five aliens aboard crashed onto a sheep and mule ranch just outside Roswell , New Mexico . This is a well known incident that many say has long been covered up by the U.S. Air Force and other federal agencies and organizations.
However, what you may NOT know is that in the month of April 1948, nine months after that historic day, the following people were born:
Hillary Rodham
John F. Kerry
William J. Clinton
Howard Dean
Nancy Pelosi
Dianne Feinstein
Charles E. Schumer
Barbara Boxer
See what happens when aliens breed with sheep and jackasses?
I certainly hope this bit of information clears up a lot of things for you. It did for me.
[1] comments (44 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
The dying priest's wish to See Bush and Cheney
This came in from a reader up in the Bay State:
*In Washington , D.C. an old priest lay dying in the hospital. For years
he had faithfully served the people of the nation's capital. He motioned for
his nurse to come near.
"Yes, Father?" said the nurse.
"I would really like to see President Bush and the Vice President Cheny
before I die", whispered the priest.
"I'll see what I can do, Father", replied the nurse.
The nurse sent the request to The President and Congress and waited for a
response. Soon the word arrived; President Bush and his Vice President would
be delighted to visit the priest.
As they went to the hospital, Bush commented to Cheney, "I don't know why the
old priest wants to see us, but it will certainly help our images After
all, Cheney agreed that it was a good thing.
When they arrived at the priest's room, the priest took Bush's hand in his
right hand and Cheney hand in his left hand. There was silence and a look of
serenity on the old priest's face.
Finally President Bush spoke. "Father, of all the people you could have
chosen, why did you choose us to be with you as you near the end?"
**The old priest slowly replied, "I have always tried to pattern my life
after our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." **
"Amen", said Bush.
"Amen", said Cheney.
The old priest continued, "Jesus died between two lying thieves; I would
like to do the same."*
[1] comments (47 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Wed Mar 03, 2010
KERFUFFLE AT JFK AIRPORT
I don't know whether to laugh or get over with this video clip. A very young child in the contr9ol tower of a busy airport.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvvmCldvsRQ
[1] comments (47 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Quote Of The Day
03/03/2010
03/03/2010
A man surely to be admired for his deep philosophical outlook!!!!!
A remarkable man!!
*As we get older we sometimes begin to doubt our ability to "make a difference" in the world.
*It is at these times that our hopes are boosted by the remarkable achievements of other "seniors" who have found the courage to take on challenges that would make many of us wither
*Harold Schlumberg is such a person.* Here, in his own words...
"I've often been asked, 'What do you old folks do now that you're retired'?
Well...I'm fortunate to have a chemical engineering background, and one of the things I enjoy most is turning beer, wine, Scotch, and margaritas into urine."
Harold should be an inspiration to all of us.
Sent in by an old friend
[1] comments (48 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Tue Mar 02, 2010
In Case You Ever Wondered
http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=D9E62II80&show_article=1
[1] comments (49 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Mon Mar 01, 2010
MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH THE M1 CARBINE
Towards the end of the last monthly meeting a distinguished newbie stood up and suggested, no, ‘challenged’ us, rather, to start up a Saturday morning M1 Carbine match….iron sights, vintage or newly made, variable yardage. It took me back.
It was the summer of 1947; I was eight years old and full of the piss and vinegar that causes parents to yearn to ship their offspring of to a no-nonsense military school for the next ten, twelve, or thirty years. My uncle Al was on his way home from occupation duty in Japan.
He wasn’t my real uncle. Al had been a fraternity brother of Father’s back in the early thirties way up north in Durham, home of the staid University of New Hampshire in chilly New England. But he was ‘Uncle’ in everything except blood. He was the brave soldier I bragged about during the war and for two years afterwards. Dad was 4-F which didn’t count for much in the mind of a little boy addicted to war stories.
Al and Dad had done the ROTC bit when America had turned her back on military preparedness and an emasculated army trained with broomsticks for rifles and old, stripped down ford cars masquerading as tanks. Pop and Al developed a life long bond formed, in part, by their preference for spirituous liquors developed during the latter days of that infamous social experiment known as Prohibition.
Uncle Al was a full bird colonel when he returned stateside. He had joined the reserves after college, started a successful insurance business, and was among the first called up after Pearl Harbor. Unc served throughout the war and two years on until civilian life called him back to his ancestral Long Island.
Thus Al came to visit us shortly thereafter at our little rural home in the bleak center of Upstate New York. He was on a mission, that mission being to drain the contents of Pop’s well-stocked liquor cabinet. This revered uncle, you see, had never glimpsed combat in our trek across the Pacific. Whatever his job called for, it was not to lead young men into battle, storming slippery coral sands in the face of fire from a fanatical foe. He arrived on site weeks after the shooting stopped and the last sniper but a memory. His duties, whether quartermaster or propaganda officer, were largely of the nine-to-five variety followed by a lengthy cocktail hour as the sun slid over the yardarm of a shell shattered atoll. Likewise, following the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Al’s main achievement as a member of the elite occupational forces was to pursue the many pleasures and delights of Tokyo’s nightlife beginning with their well-stocked bars, many of which had completely escaped the ruin from American bombing raids, death from on high.
He arrived at our place carrying but one enormous piece of expensive, black leather, non-military-style luggage. Once settled in, and on his third scotch (‘no rocks, no water, none of your fizzy stuff, dammit!!’) that officer (and gentleman) called the eight-year-old me to his side and began to open, ever so slowly, mysteriously even, the brass zipper that encircled his massive gear. From its depths he first withdrew a sheathed knife, which I would soon learn was companion to the next item slowly extricated from the bag’s swollen depths, a rifle, a very small rifle weighing but five pounds, used only on Sundays, probably, at some sea-girt firing range. The piece had a slightly acrid smell, redolent of that old time military gun solvent we sometimes still see in surplus stores in yellow stamped, army green, eight ounce cans. The wonder weapon was shipshape from its front sight and bayonet-lugged barrel band, to its receiver, magazine, and polished, slightly dinged walnut stock.
He handed the marvelous little toy to me. It felt feather light, almost kid size, and, when hefted to my shoulder as I squinted through the flip-up, rear peep sight, made me feel like the guy who first reached the top of Mount Suribachi there to plant the flag of our nation. This little rifle must have been made in heaven for me and me alone.
Uncle Al’s hand reached once again into the mysterious depths of his bag and drew out a brace of cardboard boxes, each containing a full hundred rounds of .30 caliber ball ammo. “Here’s a little ammo, Donnie (hated to be called that), here’s how you load and insert the magazine. That thing there is the safety this one releases the magazine, the little piece of metal on the right side puts one in the chamber. That little button holds the bolt open. Now scoot. I want to talk to your Dad.” The Colonel’s massive right palm swatted a behind already tender from a painful encounter with Pop earlier in the day. I scooted pronto, waltzing my new found treasure into the soft, summer air.
And in less than an hour the contents of those boxes were history and that eight-year-old had fought the battles of Iwo Jima and Okinawa with the real thing, unsupervised in the fantasy of his own imagination.
That was a glorious day. I still remember every detail of it. Yes, both Al and my Pop were stupidly careless (and not a little inebriated, to boot). I never did anything like that with my own kids, but I am sure glad it happened to me that one time. I have my own M1 carbine now and whenever I take it to our club I become for a short time that kid again who fell in love with a rifle that could only have been made for him and him alone.
This is THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO LUKE and I am Don Brunel
Cross Published in the MARION ROAD GUN CLUB Newsletter, THE BULLET, March 2010.
[3] comments (62 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
Sat Feb 27, 2010
EASTMAN GUN SHOW
PERRY AGRICEMTER
TODAY and TOMORROWE
PERRY AGRICEMTER
TODAY and TOMORROWE
Didn't get this posted during the two weeks my 'puter was down.
Perry Agricenter
Saturday 9:00-5:00; Sunday 10:00 to 5:00
Eight Bucks at the door; kids under 12 get in free
The last two Perry shows have been excellent despite, in one case, the weather.This one should prove to be excellent as well.
[2] comments (58 views) | [0] Trackbacks [0] Pingbacks
| NEXT page |