Ding Dong!

 Non-Standard Disclaimer: For those of you who voted for, or (Heaven help us all) actually supported Feinstein, pack up your preferred pronouns and go read I'm a Sensitive Zealot.  Believe me, we'll all be happier.

Okay, you've been warned...

Order Up!

 Unlike most of my contributions to the canon of western literature, this post will do nothing more that irritate, incense, and annoy the anti-freedom idiots who truly believe that owning an AR-15 is akin to burning not-a-president Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. in effigy while wearing a MAGA hat, singing The Star Spangled Banner, and donating to the President Donald Trump Reelection Fund.

That's a tall order, but I'm betting I could pull it off.

My Sincere Apology

Somehow, and I genuinely do not know how, about 75 legitimate comments got moved into the spam folder.  Some of these comments go back to the ice age, when I first started this hound.

If you were kind enough to post a comment and couldn't see it later on, it's because it got marked as spam.  I went through the entire list and marked all the spam as legit, so now the comments can be seen.  The only comment I deleted was posted by anonymous and notified the men on this dog as pigs.  I think this contributor is a deranged female who used to call herself Baked Brie - she posted a similar comment on my post about a massage parlor that closed up.

My apologies for the error.  I corrected it, and I'll keep a closer eye on things.

Nine-Eleven, The Day After

Since everyone knows what happened on September 11^th, 2001, I'm not going to write a repetition.  What follows is a brief personal opinion of the events that should have followed the attack.

Content Warning: If you're a thin skinned social justice warrior, LGBT - et al. member, follower, or supporter, or you're sensitive to racial slurs and easily insulted - keep reading.  You'll die of an apoplexy and the world will be a better place - to an infinitely small degree, maybe, but still a better place.

FREE BEER!

Awright, cut out the noise, sit up and stop mumbling.  That includes you, Glen Filthie - get your mind outta the gutter and pay attention.

Number One: Find all the anti-freedom fascist commie bastards and give 'em the bum's rush.  Out the back, Glen!  The back!  That includes everyone that ain't regular, and by that I mean regular.

The back door!  Ah... the boy's a slow learner, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.  The rest of you folks make yourselves comfortable, because I have an announcement to make.

Cheaper Than Dirt! The delivery...

While screwing around online, I tripped over an empty bourbon bottle (remind me to go to the liquor store later on today) and when I picked myself up I discovered that I was right in the middle of Cheaper Than Dirt!  (CTD)

Which in turn reminded me that I was a bit low on 5.56 NATO...

At this point I'm issuing my standard warning to all moonbats, left wing idiots, and anti-freedom zealots.  Go someplace else, because you are not going to like what you read next.

Psycho Chicks

 One of my favorite bloggers is Wirecutter, over at Knuckledraggin My Life Away.  If you haven't read him, find a free half-hour and go see him - he writes an excellent blog.

One recurring title from the Wirecutter is Psycho Chicks - We've All Had 'Em.  Maybe, maybe not, but by the time you've hit forty if you haven't met one you aren't living right.

Now me, I'm old enough and wise enough to know better than to get mixed up with a psycho chick, but every once in a while even someone with my experience gets blindsided.

Warning: If you're some kind of feminazi whack job or a left wing tool or something - save yourself a lot of grief and Xanax by visiting your favorite loonie lefty site.  Forget you ever came here.  The rest of you can keep reading.

Jimmie Vaughan - Review

I haven't reviewed an artist in quite a while, so here we go.  Ah, but don't forget the standard disclaimer!  Not safe for children, not safe for work, do not use with wet or damp hands... and if you're a thin skinned precious little snowflake - the first paragraph will cause a mental meltdown.

Homophobic or Not - You Be the Judge

 As all of my regular readers (such as they are - few in number, percipient in culture) know that I rarely, if ever, discriminate.  I hate everyone equally.  I despise most political groups, and I execrate all but a select few social groups.  I also subscribe to the practice of ignoring those habits and consuetudes which are not obvious, and which I would never practice myself as I find them abhorrent.

Keep reading as you like with the usual warning and disclaimer - adult oriented racist hate speech ahead,  triggers and micro-triggers are deliberate, this missive includes racist hate speech, void where prohibited, no deposit no return, the sleeves will ride up with wear, and thin skinned SJWs and affiliated moonbats will be offended to the point of mandatory psychiatric treatment.

Get Woke, Go Broke

Standard Disclaimer: This content is not suitable for most work places, thin skinned moonbats, politically correct people, or anyone under 18 years of age who can't think for themselves and has no sense of humor.  If you can't tolerate hate speech, don't read this.

I was all set to write about this, and the Old NFO beat me to it.  Take a look and a read if you're so inclined, and remember you saw it here - or something.

But before you do, you need a little background.  A lot of the people reading this hound already know this, and have known it since they were ten years old.  Two things you have to know about beer to appreciate what's happening here:

1. The manufacturer who brews this swill packages it and sells it (yeah, no shit Sherlock...) ahem! to a distributor, who then, in turn, takes the packaged product around to various retail outlets - stores, bars, whatever.  Why does it work this way?  Because, genius.
2. The distributor takes what the manufacturer sends him.  No, it's not supposed to work this way, but this is the way it works.  Again, because.  See?

There's money involved in every step, which should answer most questions.  So - got that?  Brewer, distributor, bar, consumer, DUI, domestic, Fraternity Toga Party, and eventually, drunk tank.  Like always, there's money in it.

Now that we're all on the same page, looking at the same picture of Ms. Budweiser Light of 2022, here we go...

How Free is Speech?

Any gun owner knows that the Bill of Rights is a great idea, and that the first amendment recognizes the freedom of speech.  Here it is for those of you who require a crib sheet:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

We, the freedom loving gun owners, also know that the second amendment trumps the first - because free speech is a great thing until you piss off the wrong person, then - well, keep reading if you've the time and mind to do so.

Standard Disclaimer: Many people will find the rest of this missive offensive, to which I say - good.  Mission accomplished.

Range Time!

 Last time we went to the range my AR-15 performed nicely.  I didn't suffer any misfeeds and I managed to put my shots on the paper.  I didn't get my fingers caught in the action, either.  California Dave was with us, firing his Rock River AR-15 for the first time, and had similar luck.  No misfeeds, no broken fingers.  Big Mike, however, was not as fortunate.

Trigger Warning: All anti-freedom commies, liberals, SJWs, snowflakes, and other pre-verts can go read something else about someone else.  My blog, my deliberate trigger events.

And, while I'm at it, may I remind you that around here men are men.  We treat ladies with courtesy and respect.

Armed Robbery

I had an armed robbery very close to my home.  Here are the particulars and my own commentary, which is not safe for snowflakes, LGBT - et cetera things, and children under ten.

An AR-15 at the Range

I bought a Rock River AR-15 a few weeks ago, and finally had a chance to take it out to the range to see if it performs as advertised.  Here are the results and commentary.

Caution: Anti-freedom commie loving liberals should stop reading as they value their sanity.

Monody for a Migraine

The questionably melodic cacophony you hear from upstage center is not a goat mating with a penguin.  It's the infamous Fat Lady, and she's closing out the show.

Keep reading for an amusing yet offensive denouement of Migraine One.

Migraine One:

Read the previous post if you haven't already.  I got a call this morning, and stupid me, I answered it without thinking.

Migraine One.

RFI: Migraine One

The people who read this dog on an irregular basis, and who have done so for some number of years, will have heard of Migraine One.  This is a multi-ex girlfriend that I started dating when I was 21 and finally got shut of when I was about 30.  We had an on-again, off-again, relationship that could best be described as gasoline and matches.  The real problem with Migraine One is that she's neurotic with psychotic episodes and a drinking problem.

Keep reading at your own risk, keeping the usual disclaimer in mind: void where prohibited, no deposit no return, the sleeves will ride up with wear, do not use near fire or flame, and thin skinned SJWs, special little snowflakes, and affiliated moonbats will be triggered to the point of emergency psychiatric treatment.  I recommend Doctor Glen Filthie of Someplace, Canada.

What Goes On in the Office

In the year of Out Lord One-Thousand Nine-Hundred Ninety and Nine, I landed a contract with the state of South Dakota.  My office was in Pierre, (pronounced peer, as in long walk off a short...), South Dakota.  The regular building was being remodeled, so we got moved into a refurbished department store in downtown Pierre on East Capitol Avenue, which runs NW to SE.  I was on the South side of the street  Across the street was the State Capitol Building, Capitol Lake is a man made artesian lake, and further down (SE of the lake) is the governor's mansion.

The BLM Movement and Your Humble Host

Some silly bitch sent me an email a week ago, which I finally got around to reading.  The title of the email is How madjackshack.blogspot.com's users can safely support BLM online

Keep reading with the usual warning and disclaimer - void where prohibited, no deposit no return, the sleeves will ride up with wear, and thin skinned SJWs and affiliated moonbats should be offended to the point of mandatory psychiatric treatment.  Please note that the author of this hound (that would be me) is an ancient cissexual, cisgender, right-wing conservative, whiskey drinking white male, who is enthusiastically suffering from male toxicity.  He likes guns, down and dirty blues, and women of questionable moral repute. The only things in this world that he's afraid of are helpful government workers, mandatory vaccinations, and red-headed women - and the jury's still out on red-headed women.

Feeling Better

 I admit I was feeling a little blue for the past few days.  A kind of 'down in the dumps' feeling.  Then I read the Old NFO's blog and cheered right up.