LOL well that didn’t take long. DOGE merch is now for sale.
Honesty compels me to state that I know the person behind this cool idea (the wife of one of my best friends), but I get absolutely NO kickback or other such reward for punting it on this website.
Honesty also compels me to state that it’s kinda spendy, but no more so than the aforementioned Yeti / Stanley stuff.
My old pal, the late Airboss once said (pace the old AT&T ad) that everyone should own at least one rifle that can “reach out and touch” someone.
Here’s my candidate, which has the added benefit of almost utter silence with the proper add-on, the CVA Scout, chambered in the .300 Blackout:
Yes, it’s a single-shot rifle (but that means it’s both quiet and cheap — nothing wrong with that little scenario). Also, I would venture to suggest that if you do your part, a quick reload should be entirely unnecessary.
In fact, it’s difficult to imagine a better gun for pig-hunting, where the sound of the shot from a regular rifle makes the other pigs scatter like flies. With silence comes an excellent chance for a further pop, or three…
I also like that the Scout can also come with a short barrel (ribbed threaded for your pleasure).
I have also said in the past that hunting with a single-shot rifle is not o be sneered at, because nothing concentrates the mind better than knowing that one shot is all you’ll get. And I’m all over that one, with my own peerless Browning High Wall:
…but I must say that the CVA does make the old trigger-finger itch a little, because of its utter stripped-down utility and scope-ready rail (which the Browning does not have).
Worth some consideration, yes?
Today’s posts may be a little tardy. Why? Because most of yesterday was spent at the range with Doc Russia and Combat Controller, in which time a ridiculous of ammo was expended and dizzying range of firesticks employed.
Then we went off for some post-shooting drinks (note, children: shooting and then drinks), followed by a noisy dinner which all went on for far too long.
So now it’s bed-time, and I shall resume writing later today when/if I wake up and when/if ever I can quell the storm of hobgoblins running around in my head.
I’m getting too old for this nonsense. The drinking, that is, and not the shooting.
Here’s something from Insty:
I haven’t seen any of them, of course, and am unlikely to do so — unless they’re on Netflix already, and even then…
…which brings me to a new movie — okay, series — that I have seen, watched over the past weekend, in fact.
My one-word review: Don’t.
My longer review: total and utter bullshit, with a paper-thin plot, an unbelievable “heroine”, and more holes in the plot (and action sequences) than in the average piece of Swiss cheese — and I apologize in advance for any slight against Swiss cheese.
Suffice it to say that the good guys all shoot like Jerry Miculek, while the bad guys (predictably) all shoot like guys who flunked out of Imperial Stormtrooper Beginners Marksmanship Qualification. And watching the 82-pound Keira Knightley fighting a Special Forces sniper hand-to-hand — and winning — is enough to make you reach for the barf bag.
There’s even a sub-plot where the good-guy assassin is (surprise, surprise) a homo with (of course) a Black lover. That this relationship is actually one of the more interesting and entertaining parts of the show should say it all.
I would go into greater detail, but that would require making an effort which this stupid series really does not deserve.
And to prove how totally crap this show is, Netflix has committed to Season 2 already.
Don’t say you haven’t been warned.
And off we go, with a bumper issue of offensive jokes:
(actually, that came from The Englishman, so I stole it
because it’s so good.) #SorryNotSorry
(and believe me, that’s very close to the truth)
And to finish this epic post off, some extremely questionable taste below the fold:
No Italian, she, but a Pennsylvania girl with a very American name (Marie Katherine Stewart). Because she looked, in the words of a contemporary critic, “like a porcelain doll” with her flawless complexion, Marie Doro was most often cast as a minor pretty-girly-type, although it should be known that offstage and -screen she had a formidable intellect.
Here’s an expertly-colorized pic of her which I think shows what she might have looked like in real life:
Exquisite.
Perhaps because of her intellect, she got sick of Hollywood and all its nonsense, and retired to become something of a religious recluse. In earlier times, she might have become a nun.
But the saddest of all is that almost all — perhaps indeed all — of her movies have been lost.