Unexpected guests

Guess who dropped by the Kitty Den?  Shoothouse Barbie and Dr. Boyfriend!  What a good thing my apartment was already cleaned and tidied

As you can imagine, there was much late-night conversation and wine consumption, along with grip correction and Christmas gifts of Jeff Cooper.  If we make it to the range tonight, you’ll have pictures!

Northeast Blogger and AD Dinner 3-22-09

Steak.  Bloggers.  And lots and lots of knives.  What’s not to like??

I’ll try and update this post later, with lots of official links and an updated blogroll for folks I’ve met (Yay!!), but for now, I’m simply dumping off my Neo (thanks Marko!).  A big whopping thank you to Jay (I’ll update with a link once he posts his review of our lil’ shin-dig) — you ROCK, Mr. G.  We had a very excellent time and I TOTALLY look forward to the spring bloggershoot!

Quotes ‘n’ Notes from the evening . . .

If there’s one quote to walk away with tonight, I’m sure it would be Ambulance Driver’s: “Naw, naw, I’m not a redneck, I’m a good ol’ boy.  Y’see, both grow up having relationships with the livestock, but rednecks get emotionally involved.”

- Apparently I need to see Amazon Women on the Moon.  Or is that just for SciFi junkies?  Weer’d Beard? 

- Lissa:  “I don’t know about eating bunnies.  Bunnies are cute.” 
Ted: “Well, so are deer, you know.”
Lissa:  “Yes, but bunnies have never threatened my car. Every deer on the plate is one less deer in my headlights.”

-My new friend Steve was kicked out of Boy Scouts AND Hebrew School.  I’m not sure exactly what he did to deserve that, but he did mention smoking in the girls bathroom.  He swears it was NOT to pick up chicks — “They were the only other people who smoked!!”

- Ted: “I’m definitely just an amateur.”
Lissa: “If you’re just a gun amateur, what does that make me?”
Ted: “What do you think?”
Lissa: “Um, they called me a baby gun chick.”
Ted:  “Well, you’ll get a LOT more hits off “baby gun chick” than you will off “amateur” !”

- According to Ross, there are only three changes to MA gun laws that are really imperative:
1. Change licensing to “shall issue”
2. Scrap the EOPS list (?)
3. Beat the hell out of the AG until she stops pretending that gun safety laws protect children, or are really meant to.

- Ted, on living in England for a year:  “Yeah, you never got used to it.  When the movers came to pack us up, to go back home, they were these big burley cockney guys, and I’m like, “Would you like a spot of tea?” (raises his voice an octave) “Oo, lovely!” “

- It was voiced that we might need to talk to the Hilltop management ’cause the Winchesters on the wall don’t have trigger locks.  Naturally, Jay had all the answers — it seems that antiques do have a loophole. Maybe just so that Minutemen could do re-enactments? Massachusetts:  We only want to regulate your guns if there’s a possibility they might be useful.  Yeah, it doesn’t make sense.  Deal with it.

-Ross:  “Yeah, I missed the day when we did Duck and Cover.
Lissa (squealing and clapping hands): “Oo! Oo!  I saw that in American History class!!”

- Jay G: “One . . . two . . . five!”
Lissa: “Three, sir!”

- (After some explanation about goats, a large boot and bodies of water) – Weer’d Beard: “Remember, Gentlemen: ”BAAA” means “NO!!!”

- Breda – you really must meet Ted some day and ask him about #2 son going to the ER for an injury obtained in a library.  And I must be there to take notes.  It’s just how it has to be.

- Ted: “You need to start a group, because really, Mike has to post so he can write, ‘Hey all, I’ve been looking for Lissa. Has anyone seen her?’ “

- (I don’t even know to what this referred) – Jay G: “Help me, Tamara wan Kenobe, you’re my only hope!!”

- (On the drive home) – Lissa: “I was a little surpried you wanted to come, since you didn’t know any of the people or AD or stuff.”
Mike: “Well, it’s people you’re friends with.”
Lissa: “Cyber friends.” Pause. “Oh dude that sounds TERRIBLE.”

 It was lovely to see my old Bloggershoot friends again, and lovely to meet new ones.  More to come when I’m less sleepy.

Thank you Jay!  Cheers, AD!

Ahhhhh, friends

Good food, good wine, good company, and a killer snowstorm encouraging you to stay inside all day.  What more could you want?

Well, you might want this*, actually.  Because nothing says “good friends” like having Team America on and all four of you chanting in unison, “America, F**K YEAH!”

Shoothouse Barbie, lovely to see you and bf!

*If you don’t get it, you can email me and I’ll explain.  While they don’t check it on a regular basis, my family members DO have this blog address, so I try to maintain a PARTICLE of decency.  Just a little.

This one’s for Steph

Poor Stephanie has broken her wrist, one week before massive exam/paper deadlines.  She checks my blog for the kitty pix, so here’s a silly photo of Rajah to cheer her up:

Oh, and you thought THAT was silly?  Let’s zoom out!

Feel better hon!

Bloggershoot, Odds ‘n’ Ends

My god, you must be thinking, Lissa wrote REAMS, entire virtual LIBRARIES about her experience at the Second (sort of) Annual Northeast Bloggershoot.  Surely she can’t milk yet another post out of it.  To which I respond, “O ye of little faith!  Those posts increased my daily views by a good factor of ten, and you think I’m not going to wring one more post out of it?  Oh, and don’t call me Shirley.”

In No Particular Order:

¤ Doubletrouble mentionedthat the Mrs. thought I was brave, coming to a random spot in the middle of nowhere to meet lots of strangers with guns.  I actually did think about it, but I didn’t *worry* about it.  It’s not the same thing as going off to meet an “internet boyfriend,” if you know what I mean.  I’d been reading Jay G and Brucefor months; I’d seen pix of Jay G and I think a few of his kids.  I figured that most likely I was going to meet a group of friendly, gregarious, law-abiding people who would provide great conversation and access to lots and lots of pretty guns; and I was right.  That being said, I left a note for Mike before I left: “Hi sweetie!  The Meet today is at XXXX Rd and XXXX St in XXXXX, New Hampshire; Jay G is my contact, his cell is XXX-XXX-XXXX and his blog is http://stuckinmassachusetts.blogspot.com/“  I also left the precise location (per Google maps) and direction emails open on the computer.  Oh, and I politely declined Jay’s offer of carpooling and drove myself.  Basic precautions

(Meaning, basic precautions when meeting strangers in a strange place, not basic precautions about not getting in a car driven by Jay G.  I have seen nothing to make me believe Jay’s a crazy driver, although I now know the risks of distracting him with conversation.)

¤ Brought up from my comments, ’caused it amused me just that much:

“I love you, you love me
Let’s all go and kill Barney
With a .410 bore
Lying on the floor
No more purple dinosaur!”

¤ Also from the comments: “Breda, PLEASE come out this way! That gathering will be the “Meet, Greet and Worship Breda” Bloggershoot”  To which the Marvelous Breda replied (she did, I swear, click the link):

“well, gosh, Lissa. How could I possibly resist an invitation like that?”

So the only question is, when?  Jay G, MAKE IT HAPPEN!  AGAIN!!!

¤ Your necessary LawDog links!  Here’sthe story about LawDog restraining a murderous toy; here’s the Snake Story.  And here’s the movie lines I loved and could easily hear y’all saying.

¤ Finally, some happy snaps:

(Anonymity preserved as requested.  Next time I’ll do a better Photoshop, promise.  Although, it makes me giggle the way it is.)

Dieeeeeeee, Furby.  Death!!!!

Thank you all so much.  It was lovely to meet each and every one of you.  Hopenchange!

Bloggershoot, Part the Third: The Gunnies! (And pix)

Well, amen to that.  Bruce, were these yours? 

As I wrote before, I am extremely sad I didn’t get a video of Bruce singing while we waited for our subs to be ready.  He was not exactly how I pictured him while reading his blog; I thought he’d be older and more dryly cynical.  I would not have guessed that he’d stand around singing songs about potatoes in a perfect Maine accent.  Bruce, perhaps if you posted a picture of yourself in a kilt for your “About” page, we could avoid these misconceptions in the future?  Although, really, this shot would probably have the same effect:

Which we do we like better, boys ‘n’ girls?  The TeleTubbie with its insides on the outside, or the lil’ Shrek dolls waiting to be murdered?

Bruce and Jay were the only folks I actually “knew” (on an Internet basis) before I headed up to the Meet.  Unlike Bruce, Jay was pretty much what I expected, looks and temperament wise.  I think this picwas all that was needed to get an accurate feel for Jay.  (By the way, I’d change it to “If you make her cry, I will make you bleed.”  Just sayin’.)  He ran around all day like an insane yet friendly hybrid of Dr. Evil and John Malkovich, garnished with a dash of the Monopoly guy.  And his bayonet charge was one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a loooooong time

I hadn’t run across Ted before the meet, but if I had I’d be surprised at how young he was.  Ted, are you sure that picture is of you?  It doesn’t look like you!!  Poor Ted sat next to me during lunch so he had to listen to me the whole time; sorry, mate.  As a silver lining, I amused myself by force-feeding him cookies

Here’s my best shot of the range along its length; you can see poor Laa-Laa dangling, desperately trying to believe that one day — ONE DAY — this death-by-a-thousand-shots will come to a merciful end.  And perhaps some nice little girl will take her down, and bring her home, and patch her up, and she’ll wake up as the Velveteen Rabbit.  Or maybe even Sleeping Beauty.  NOT LIKELY, YOU IRRITATING YELLOW SPAWN OF CHILD-SATAN.

Oh yeah, and you can see, from left to right, zeeke42, JD and TOTWTYTR.  Sorry guys, I got distracted by my gut-deep dislike of moronic singing pieces of [bleep].

I just thought this looked cool:

As did these:

A few more odds and ends tomorrow, but I suppose we have to end the post with this:

I hope Justice Stevens has nightmares about this.  And incontinence.

I didn’t mean that.

Or maybe I did.

Bloggershoot, Part the Second: The Tools/Toys

I *really* better write this soon, before I forget everything.  The way you can tell I’m a noob?  I remember everyone I met, I memorized everyone’s real names (not that I’ll tell you peasants — ha!) . . . and I can barely remember all the pretty weapons that folks let me borrow.  Note to self — next time, I’m bringing my AlphaSmart Neo (thanks Marko!) and taking notes as I go along!!  No, you may not use it for target practice, I like that little doohickey.

As I wrote earlier, I was too shy to say, “Oo pretty!  I can haz rifle?”  So I stood around enjoying the bangs and exploding water jugs until Mrs. Doubletrouble very kindly took me under her wing.  (TOTWTYTR generously offered me a pistol and use of his magazines/ammo, but the last time I went shooting was about two years ago.  I wasn’t sure I remembered everything about the safety, slide, etc. and I wasn’t going to try and “learn as I went along” with a borrowed pistol!  So thanks TOTWTYTR, may I take a rain check?)  Mrs. Doubletrouble had a pretty lil’ .22 that was marketed as a “boy’s first gun,” very smooth, very light, short stock, and very comfortable.  It was a great start to my day; I reminded myself to squeeze the trigger slowly and smoothly, to keep my sights nicely aligned, and to allow each shot to “surprise” me, rather than tense up in anticipation.

After that, it all merges together in an orgasmic discharge of powder and bullets.  I freely admit that I went here to try and match shooting experience to gun and to provider; please guys, pop up in the comments if you feel helpful!  So, in no particular order:

Thank you Weer’d Beard, who allowed me to shoot his .22 pistol.  It was little and cute and light and shot smoothly, and held enough rounds to make it look like a FREAK OF NATURE.  I swear the cylinder was like a clown car, y’all.  I liked this pistol because it was easily shot; I don’t know enough to say whether a .22 is a reliable carry gun or home defense gun.  My guess is that it would make an okay carry gun (if MA ever gave me a carry permit — SNORT), but that I’d want something with a little more oomph for home defense.  Like, say, a certain 12 gauge shotgun . . . more on that later!  Weer’d Beard also let me shoot a rifle, but damned if I know for sure, or what it was!  Hmmm . . . was it the one with strip ammo?  Help please!

Bruce was nice enough to lend me a cycle-action (?) lever-action .22 and untold handfuls of ammo.  (Oh, and everyone was nice enough to load the guns for me, at least the first time; thank you!)  Doubletrouble and his Mrs. thank you as well, because that was the gun that I wasn’t cycling properly, thus merrily ejecting live ammo all over the firing line.  Good times. 

I believe it was ArcticElf who loaned me the happy, happy AR-15 with the happy happy laser sight.  I [bleeped] that metal target UP, though I do say so myself.  This bad boy was heavy enough that I had to work at keeping it steady, but oh, the bad bad things I could do to home invaders with this sucker . . .

TOTWTYTR, your Enfield did NOT weigh as much as I did!  After all, I had to sample cookies as I baked them to make sure they were coming out correctly   However, I freely admit that it was too big for me to comfortably handle; the action was smooth and the kick wasn’t bad, but 1) I had to take it off my shoulder to cycle it, 2) TOTWTYTR actually had to cycle it FOR me the first few times, 3) my left hand started shaking badly enough that I gave it back without exhausting the magazine.  No point in shooting if your hand isn’t cooperating enough to give a good shot!

As far as home defense, according to my daddy what I really want is a shotgun.  (“Nothing stops a home intruder like the sounds of a shotgun being cocked, honey.”)  Luckily for me, Jay G brought his 12-gauge shotgun *and* was thoughtful enough to load it with birdshot; I think bigger stuff would have knocked me on my butt.  Gunnies, birdshot will still do to dispose of a goblin coming down the hallway, right?  I *really* liked the shotgun; the kick was minimal, and the BOOM was maximum.  (I’m the type that LOVES LOVES LOVES fireworks, for the sound and the WHAM! to your chest as much as the pretty lights.)  Jay also let me play with his pistol (which one, Jay? actually two pistols, damn shame I can’t remember which one I liked better!) and try both .357 and .38 special; the gun shot VERY smoothly.  I really got a good feeling from this one; I think it would make an excellent primary pistol.

And, of course, we have to finish off with my very first sub-machine gun.  True, I trimmed the trees more often than I hit the damn target, but O Joy of Joys!   As you can see from the video, I stagger away looking punch-drunk; that’s soooo much more fun than my average Sunday morning!  Mmm, worshipping at the Church of the Second Amendment . . . Thanks Paul!  (Daddy, if you ever drive by there on your way back to NH, it is your paternal duty to stop there and buy some ammo, at the LEAST.)

That’s all I’ve got for now . . . I reserve the rights to update as 1) I remember more specifics, 2) the nice folkses from the Meet tell me what they let me play with, in the comments.  Have at it, gentlemen!

P.S.  drmac, thank the Mrs. please for being willing to lend me her piece; maybe next time I’ll have time to shoot it

UPDATE: Thanks guys, some corrections to the entry.  ShootBarbie (I *like* that abbreviation!), I’ll put up pix in the next post, where I dish about all the fabulous people who came.  Jay, sometime when I have time, I will *definitely* take you up on that offer!  That way we can pick me out a primary pistol that *isn’t* a .22.  And we’ll take lots of pictures, and there will be much rejoicing.  (Breda . . . can’t I do both?  Piss off the goblins and THEN kill them?)