I traded my P226 for a Springfield Armory 1911 Loaded. I’m back to the 1911 platform, as I already have a commander-sized 1911. The commander needs some new springs installed, but it still runs. The feel of the Springfield Armory Loaded feels better than the Colt I had a few months ago; I just couldn’t get it to feel right for me. Either way, I’m back to a platform that all of my pistols share the same magazines and ammo.
Today is not our day; today is a day to remember the fallen and departed. If you say anything to a veteran, ask them how you can best commemorate the sacrifices of those members of the military no longer with us. It means so much that our service is appreciated, but when thanks are given to us on Memorial Day it feels awkward. It is an emotional day for us, as we remember those brothers and sisters in arms that didn’t come home, or are no longer with us.
If you asked me what you could do, I would say that you need to look up the names of the fallen, pick 3 and learn about where the came from, how they died, and who was left behind when they were gone; then pour a beer or shot of booze into the grass and give thanks in their name. Always keep a special place in your heart for them; they gave up theirs for you.
Sitting ass-naked in a pool of freshly poured milk. Wild party, or rough morning?
I woke up a few mornings ago, running on successively less sleep each night, (this particular morning was 4 hours of sleep), and had an interesting experience. I was trying to put the cap back on the milk jug when I dropped it, stepped forward to pick it up, kicked it by accident causing it to fly forward and spew milk as it traveled. As I stepped forward/kicked it at the same time, I slipped on my ass and slid 5 feet across my kitchen on my ass and back. I sat up at the end and looked around; the only thing I could think of was “Did that really just fucking happen?”. I was dripping wet from my shoulders to my toes, with milk. I sleep naked, which would explain why I went 5 feet after slipping.
In other news I got to see my wife drunk for the second time in our 8.5 year marriage tonight. I’ve talked to her over the phone when she was drunk before, but that pales in comparison to the real thing. She took about 12 shots of Fireball whiskey, the hangover tomorrow should be pretty shitty. Our routines are a little shaky, but I have made pretty good progress in the last 2 years from betrayed husband to a husband who is married to, and supports a bipolar wife while both of us are full-time students and we have 3 kids. OHOHOHOH by the way, our oldest is taking his first standardized test as part of the homeschooling we’re doing with him. Fuck yeah,
Right this second I’m eating Pizza from Little Caesars, and drinking a Blue Moon belgian white beer. Memorial Day is not really about the veterans, and hopefully isn’t another day for you to vacation and barbecue on; remember the fallen and the deployed. If you personally don’t know anyone who has fallen, find the names of 3 OIF or OEF warriors and pour a beer or shot of booze out on the grass for them.
I’ve seen and heard a lot of media, officials, American citizens and immigrants attacking and criticizing veterans and uniformed personnel for their service lately. Comments such as “you should be in jail”, “they should lock you in a hospital, you’re a danger to us all” and “you aren’t anything but a taxpayer benefit hog” are on the light side; I’ve seen, heard, and been the recipient of death threats, and spoken fantasies of members of the military being raped and tortured “to make up for the war we fought”.
If you happen to be a person with those thoughts floating around in your skull, best keep them to yourself, lest you suffer the Wrath of the Legion.