14 thoughts on “I’ve Never Had A Woman Fall Out Of Bed, Roll Underneath And Disappear Into Thin Air Yet”
Wish I had some women do just that, roll off and disappear and I could have my coffee in peace
Just tell her to turn off the lights and lock the door on her way out when you’re finished with her.
Do I need to explain everything to you or what?
Once upon a time, I had a Star Model 30M 9mm d/a autp pistol, since crushed by the pigs, which is the ultimate end of any registered gun, registration simply being a step in confiscation by the state, and a licensing system being a deliberate danger to your freedom, but I digress: during a detail strip of the gun, I needlessly removed the wire sear spring from the action. It really wasn’t required, but I.inspected, cleaned and oiled parts and started reassembly of the gun. As I placed the spring ready to secure it, what I got was a ‘plick’, followed by silence, as I was in a carpeted room, a patterned, dark carpet.
The ease of finding such a small part is directly in inverse proportion to the closeness of an upcoming match, for which you’ve been training with your gun, and got it good and dirty in the first place.
I searched for that fucking sear spring, crawled on hands and knees, methodically feeling each centimetre of carpet. Eventually I accepted that it had escaped into a different dimension, and ordered a new one. Which I hate doing, because the blokes at the gun shop always want to hear the story behind your request. For supposedly busy workers, they always find time to laugh at your distress and dismay, never once just opening a drawer and supplying said part.
Three months after giving up searches for it, that bastard imbedded itself in a soft part of my foot. I didn’t swear, just oiled it and assembled the gun, Star workers having yet to make me another. I don’t have any guns, but if I were still a shooter, I’d have a spotlessly clean surgery area in which to clean my guns.
It’s moot now, as I cannot see much, but I could still outshoot Cederq and Deathray, the old farts.
Occasionally dropped small airplane parts. Swore that shit went thru a time warp on the way to the hangar floor. Also, Mr. Johno, – why dont you come up to the north end and hangout with the rest of us heathens? You seem to be a very agreeable sort.
Texson, I’ve discussed that possibility with Herr Unfuck, so far, I think that if I get an aeroplane to Mexico as a tourist, I could go into a tanning salon and order “well done”. Then get a bus to Juarez, and walk across the Rio Grande to El Paso.
Is that it viable method, or should I carry a packet of dextrose with me also, with Fentanyl printed on it, to ensure consideration by the Feds on the northern side?
If Cederq does a run down to Mexico to visit Guido’s cousins, he could bring Unfuck across the border, claiming that he is his albino Mexican gardener.
I dunno how big a garden he has in his camper, not my problem. Maybe they won’t let Cederq back in, also not my problem.
I wonder how many Hondurans Cederq can fn a camper? I expect he’ll write from Gitmo and tell us.
Yours made the hangar floor? Nothing worse than dropping a 12 point, 10-32 stainless nut from the top of an intake and hearing “tink, tink……” and not the click of it making the floor.
I’ll bounce that clit like a basketball every day, but I’ll be damned if I know where about half a dozen 10mm sockets went…
I wish I could bounce it again. Here lately the closest I can get is Can I…And she says no.
Fred, be thankful you aren’t having Hallway Sex.
Where you walk past each other in the hall and say Fuck You to each other…
The only thing that I ever saw with 10mm on it that was worth a damn is my Colt Delta Elite.
And your challenge is accepted, Johno.
Bring some gold or silver with you to put up and cover your smack talking.
I got a Star in .45 that I’ll let you use and even throw in the ammo.
Only caveat is that we film the competition and it gets posted here.
Bring one of those aids from the nursing home to push you around in your wheelchair though cause I’m not doing it.
Deathray, Phil’s readers aren’t dumb, they know you’re only looking for someone to pick up your empty brass for you.
It must be a hassle, so why don’t you just rig a case-catcher onto your wheelchair to stop the ejected cases? Those baby 10mm brass probably have to wait for the annual thaw, for you to find them.
It doesn’t matter that I cannot see much, I’ll use my Zen master-level shooting skills. Or maybe not, after all, look at the old dodderers that are the competition: Codger & Geezer!
People say that with revolvers, at least you know where your empty brass will be. Uh-uh, as my reloads during a practical match would generally meet my knees or feet on the way to the ground, thereby gaining entry to that portal into an alternate dimension. The fuckers.
People also say that shooting a manual repeater, like a bolt-action, ensures that you’ll find your brass. Bullshit. They’ve obviously never hunted and culled feral pigs. I doubt there is any difference between the animals in America or Australia, but as the Dry drags on, and in certain choice locations, when various mobs of pigs merge into loose herds of •literally• three figures, then well…, Mr. Igor would need a Bren magazine fitted to his SMLE, not being able to use stripper clips because of his mounted scope.
The inverse proportion rule especially applies to ejected cases disappearing from rifles chambered for hard-to-find calibres. If you’ve had to modify or adapt brass from more obtainable cases for your unobtainable chambering, or if it’s a wildcat, then those cartridge cases will be caught in a tractor beam from an overhead alien spacecraft upon leaving your gun.
Deathray, as a 10mm Auto fan, you may know this: which military issues it’s troopers with both the Glock Model 20 as their belt gun and the M-1917 for the longarm, both carried at all times and loaded with FMJ ammo?
Deathray, when you practice your target shooting, or kill some squirrels for tea, do you lock the wheels on your chair, or maybe have a curved incline behind you, to run the wheelchair up, then let it return freely, thus absorbing the free recoil rather than fighting it?
I’m thinking of the film records of the medium and large howitzers duelling during the artillery battles of the Great War. Most of the land warfare guns in service still were devoid of hydraulic recoil systems, or Quick-Firing design of any sort, until the advent of ordnance like the famous French 75mm medium gun. Images of those great guns rearing up the formed earth inclines in free recoil, then running down it to return to it’s battery position for the gun team to reload it are fascinating to most students of the gun, or of warfare and history itself.
That must have been about when you and Cederq joined the AJs, isn’t that right?
I don’t use the metric system it’s a solution to a problem that does not exist, half inch is what disappears in my world.
Wish I had some women do just that, roll off and disappear and I could have my coffee in peace
Just tell her to turn off the lights and lock the door on her way out when you’re finished with her.
Do I need to explain everything to you or what?
Once upon a time, I had a Star Model 30M 9mm d/a autp pistol, since crushed by the pigs, which is the ultimate end of any registered gun, registration simply being a step in confiscation by the state, and a licensing system being a deliberate danger to your freedom, but I digress: during a detail strip of the gun, I needlessly removed the wire sear spring from the action. It really wasn’t required, but I.inspected, cleaned and oiled parts and started reassembly of the gun. As I placed the spring ready to secure it, what I got was a ‘plick’, followed by silence, as I was in a carpeted room, a patterned, dark carpet.
The ease of finding such a small part is directly in inverse proportion to the closeness of an upcoming match, for which you’ve been training with your gun, and got it good and dirty in the first place.
I searched for that fucking sear spring, crawled on hands and knees, methodically feeling each centimetre of carpet. Eventually I accepted that it had escaped into a different dimension, and ordered a new one. Which I hate doing, because the blokes at the gun shop always want to hear the story behind your request. For supposedly busy workers, they always find time to laugh at your distress and dismay, never once just opening a drawer and supplying said part.
Three months after giving up searches for it, that bastard imbedded itself in a soft part of my foot. I didn’t swear, just oiled it and assembled the gun, Star workers having yet to make me another. I don’t have any guns, but if I were still a shooter, I’d have a spotlessly clean surgery area in which to clean my guns.
It’s moot now, as I cannot see much, but I could still outshoot Cederq and Deathray, the old farts.
Occasionally dropped small airplane parts. Swore that shit went thru a time warp on the way to the hangar floor. Also, Mr. Johno, – why dont you come up to the north end and hangout with the rest of us heathens? You seem to be a very agreeable sort.
Texson, I’ve discussed that possibility with Herr Unfuck, so far, I think that if I get an aeroplane to Mexico as a tourist, I could go into a tanning salon and order “well done”. Then get a bus to Juarez, and walk across the Rio Grande to El Paso.
Is that it viable method, or should I carry a packet of dextrose with me also, with Fentanyl printed on it, to ensure consideration by the Feds on the northern side?
If Cederq does a run down to Mexico to visit Guido’s cousins, he could bring Unfuck across the border, claiming that he is his albino Mexican gardener.
I dunno how big a garden he has in his camper, not my problem. Maybe they won’t let Cederq back in, also not my problem.
I wonder how many Hondurans Cederq can fn a camper? I expect he’ll write from Gitmo and tell us.
Yours made the hangar floor? Nothing worse than dropping a 12 point, 10-32 stainless nut from the top of an intake and hearing “tink, tink……” and not the click of it making the floor.
I’ll bounce that clit like a basketball every day, but I’ll be damned if I know where about half a dozen 10mm sockets went…
I wish I could bounce it again. Here lately the closest I can get is Can I…And she says no.
Fred, be thankful you aren’t having Hallway Sex.
Where you walk past each other in the hall and say Fuck You to each other…
The only thing that I ever saw with 10mm on it that was worth a damn is my Colt Delta Elite.
And your challenge is accepted, Johno.
Bring some gold or silver with you to put up and cover your smack talking.
I got a Star in .45 that I’ll let you use and even throw in the ammo.
Only caveat is that we film the competition and it gets posted here.
Bring one of those aids from the nursing home to push you around in your wheelchair though cause I’m not doing it.
Deathray, Phil’s readers aren’t dumb, they know you’re only looking for someone to pick up your empty brass for you.
It must be a hassle, so why don’t you just rig a case-catcher onto your wheelchair to stop the ejected cases? Those baby 10mm brass probably have to wait for the annual thaw, for you to find them.
It doesn’t matter that I cannot see much, I’ll use my Zen master-level shooting skills. Or maybe not, after all, look at the old dodderers that are the competition: Codger & Geezer!
People say that with revolvers, at least you know where your empty brass will be. Uh-uh, as my reloads during a practical match would generally meet my knees or feet on the way to the ground, thereby gaining entry to that portal into an alternate dimension. The fuckers.
People also say that shooting a manual repeater, like a bolt-action, ensures that you’ll find your brass. Bullshit. They’ve obviously never hunted and culled feral pigs. I doubt there is any difference between the animals in America or Australia, but as the Dry drags on, and in certain choice locations, when various mobs of pigs merge into loose herds of •literally• three figures, then well…, Mr. Igor would need a Bren magazine fitted to his SMLE, not being able to use stripper clips because of his mounted scope.
The inverse proportion rule especially applies to ejected cases disappearing from rifles chambered for hard-to-find calibres. If you’ve had to modify or adapt brass from more obtainable cases for your unobtainable chambering, or if it’s a wildcat, then those cartridge cases will be caught in a tractor beam from an overhead alien spacecraft upon leaving your gun.
Deathray, as a 10mm Auto fan, you may know this: which military issues it’s troopers with both the Glock Model 20 as their belt gun and the M-1917 for the longarm, both carried at all times and loaded with FMJ ammo?
Deathray, when you practice your target shooting, or kill some squirrels for tea, do you lock the wheels on your chair, or maybe have a curved incline behind you, to run the wheelchair up, then let it return freely, thus absorbing the free recoil rather than fighting it?
I’m thinking of the film records of the medium and large howitzers duelling during the artillery battles of the Great War. Most of the land warfare guns in service still were devoid of hydraulic recoil systems, or Quick-Firing design of any sort, until the advent of ordnance like the famous French 75mm medium gun. Images of those great guns rearing up the formed earth inclines in free recoil, then running down it to return to it’s battery position for the gun team to reload it are fascinating to most students of the gun, or of warfare and history itself.
That must have been about when you and Cederq joined the AJs, isn’t that right?
I don’t use the metric system it’s a solution to a problem that does not exist, half inch is what disappears in my world.
Wish they would all do that.