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I'm impressed by his skywriting ability. I don't think he should be disciplined for the writing, but what about those two penises he drew?

Wanted one for a long time.

The Night Fred Shot the Cook Those of us who lived in the Kappa Phi Delta house lived well, indeed. There was always good company about; guys with shared interests, ranging from sports to poetry, theater to hunting, philosophy to politics. Shared knowledge for academic pursuits, including a file cabinet filled with several years’ worth of term papers and reviews of mid-term and final exams and profiles of professors. And of course, social activities. We were only a staircase commute to the legendary frat parties. And food. Food! Not only did we have a well-stocked pantry, but when school was in session we had a staff dinner cook. Sunday through Thursday evenings (holidays excepted!) we could count on a most marvelous meal served at six-thirty. All we had to do was check our name on the meal list and we’d have a spot reserved at table. Guests were always welcome, with notice, and for a nominal $2 fee would share in good home cooking. Sundays were always the best, with fifteen to twenty (or more) guys and guests sharing good fellowship as well as the fanciest meal of the week. Now, the cooks were usually students. And, as students, they would “serve” for one or two semesters before class schedules or even graduation pulled them away. These co-eds were more than happy to spend a couple of hours a day hanging out in the testosterone-soaked atmosphere of the Edwardian mansion full of jocks and scholars. And, although most indeed did possess the necessary skills, occasionally we’d get one whose interests extended beyond (or in rare cases totally ignored) the nutritional needs of the brothers and pledges. Needless to say, there were one or two whose primary mission seemed to be the pursuit of the coveted “M R S” degree. Consequently, we had a fairly consistent turnover. And over the course of a few years we got to experience an interesting variety of foods. Now, with birds, not all fly at the same altitude. So with the abilities of part-time fraternity cooks. Some were better than others for sure! After forty-five plus years, I don’t remember all their names. But the young lady who had the position when I was a pledge – fall semester, 1969 – consistently produced wholesome “comfort food” meals; pot roast and stew were standards. There followed a couple of girls who were reasonably decent cooks. Kept the guys fed, but neither they nor their meals were remarkable. Then there were those who were memorable. Shelley! Fairly tall, blonde, borderline gorgeous in a wholesome fashion, with a sweet personality to match. I doubt anyone remembered anything she cooked, but would swear that it was delicious! Visiting girlfriends were always sure to sit possessively close to their boyfriends during supper. Every pledge had a crush on this “older woman,” who must have been every bit of twenty-two. Oh, and the Gloria semester. Gloria! Petite… cute… attractive in her petite and cute way of wearing see-through blouses with floral-print undergarments. Make that cute in a “kid sister kind-of-way,” which I’m quite sure was not her intent. And although she was rather accomplished at turning out Italian dishes, she would literally bring along an assistant when the menu called for traditional American fare. Evidently the assistant’s “compensation” was the chance of landing a Kappa Phi man. The English girl was okay – sometimes. But the typical San Francisco male palate of the period was not in tune with kidney pie, bubble-and-squeak, or mutton. But she was pleasant; we managed. The best of all was Bonnie! That lady could COOK! She was not a student, and a bit older than most of us - probably late twenties. I’m not sure, but I think Half-Breed Pete came across her while grocery shopping – one of his duties as Kappa Phi Delta “House Mother.” Anyway, her meals were the stuff of Kappa Phi Delta legend – appetizers, main courses, and desserts! Desserts… remembering the time she made a batch of “special” brownies for her own use that somehow got loose… oh, but that’s another story. But, again, not all cooks fly at the same altitude… Before Pete took on the role of House Mother, we had Freddie E. And before Bonnie, we had Miss Vivian as Cook. But Miss Vivian was not a very good cook. In fact, the mere memory of her tenure makes me shudder and throw up a bit into the back of my throat. Not only were some of her dishes unrecognizable, even if arguably edible, but she was not exactly a fount of sweetness. Truthfully, her demeanor tended to be vapid at best, and went downhill from there, slipping to borderline surly. Might’ve even breached that border on occasion. She had to go. As difficult as it was for the mild-mannered, the “live-and-let-live” House Mother of the time, Freddie E., had to let her go. Fire her. It had never before been done, but as the Alumni Association’s in-house representative, the sad duty fell to Freddie. Besides… if he didn’t, he might risk being tarred and feathered his own self. And as I recall, he was highly allergic to feathers. So he did it. Advised her that her services were no longer needed. We were saved! Even if we had to share KP for a spell, at least we’d know what we’d be eating and know it wouldn’t kill us. B’sides, we had a few pledges we could press into service! Unfortunately for all, Miss Vivian would not stay fired. We never knew whether she didn’t understand what being fired meant, or considered that her mission was incomplete, as there may still a few fellas remaining who had not experienced cramps or land-based sea-sickness. Most likely because many of us had learned to skip house meals and dine elsewhere – attendance for Sunday dinner had dropped from twenty or more to as few as five or six – poor souls (like myself!) who didn’t have local parents or girlfriends to mooch off of. Anyway, even after her second firing, she was back and cooking – if you could call it that. Until that fateful Sunday evening… Fred G. (not to be confused with House Mother Freddie E.) and Jerry returned from another unsuccessful duck hunting foray. They were already tired and a bit grumpy, and when they walked through the front door and experienced the wafting fragrance of Vivian’s latest creation, they exchanged a glance. Jerry commented “Well… she’s back again. I can smell it. She’s up there, hunched over her cauldron…” They quietly climbed the stairs, up to their fourth-floor “Chalet Room,” under the rafters. Dropping their gear, they plopped onto the edges of their bunks and glared. “Dammit, Fred… what’re we gonna do? Eighty bucks a month room and board shouldn’t mean we have to EAT boards! I can’t take it anymore!” “I know, Jer… we gotta do somethin’. Let’s think about this a minnit…” Well, they thought. And they pondered. And they came up with a plan. A dandy of a plan! They were gonna be heroes! Half expecting the worst, on the way back from duck hunting they’d stopped at some hamburger joint to fortify themselves against the possibility – likelihood – of Miss Vivian having returned. Not only were they glad they had, but fortuitously, they discovered that they had a bunch of extra ketchup packets stuffed in their jacket pockets. Just the thing! Ten minutes later, Miss Vivian was in the kitchen. Hunched over her cauldron, undoubtedly focused on adding a half cup of spider web and some tincture of newt, when she became aware of a commotion. She paused in her labors, and looked up curiously as the kerfuffle grew nearer. Fred and Jerry were making their way down the stairs. Although she at first could not make out what they were saying, the argument was loud and becoming increasingly bitter as they approached and entered the kitchen. When they came through the door, Miss Vivian backed away from the stove and into a corner, large wooden spoon grasped in her hand and her mouth and eyes opened wide with bewilderment as the two young men quarreled. “I saw her first, and you WILL stay away from her!” Fred demanded. “Like hell! Debbie likes ME! I danced with her at that last party! I got her phone number! And I’m gonna call her and I’m gonna take her out and there ain’t nuthin’ YOU can do about it!” “Dammit, Jerry! You STAY AWAY FROM HER! She’s gonna be MINE!” “No way! You’re just a jackass – I’m goin’ for it and you can’t stop me!” “Oh, can’t I?” Fred shouted. “Like HELL I can’t!” And with that, he pulled up the small rifle he’d been carrying and, pointing at Jerry, snapped off three shots. Bang! Bang! Bang! Miss Vivian gave a short, squeaky scream with each Bang! She dropped the dripping spoon and stared in shock as Jerry’s hand clutched his chest. Red oozed from between his fingers as he slumped to the floor. His eyes fluttered, he gave a last, rattling moan, then lay still and silent. She screamed. A pitiable, wavering wail. Shocked at his deed, Fred lowered the old gun and dropped to his knees at Jerry’s side. “Oh NO! Jerry! I’m SORRY! Ohhhh…. Jerry… Jerry… Please be okay… Jerry…” Miss Vivian pointed at Fred. Accusingly, she screamed “You! You! You shot him! You KILLED him! YOU KILLED HIM!” Without taking his eyes off Jerry, he answered, “But I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to… Oh Jerry. Oh Brother… Please… I’m sorry!” Miss Vivian continued to point at Fred and scream. “YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!” Fred again said, “But I didn’t mean to…” One more time, she screamed “you KILLED him!” Finally, Fred looked at her. “I did. I didn’t mean to but I did. And… and…” his eyes tightened as he focused on the shocked cook. “And YOU are the only one who knows!” With sudden comprehension, her horror reached a new level. As did her screams and screeches, which could be heard fading into the distance as she bolted out the kitchen door, down the stairs, out the front door, down the street and around the corner, decreasing in pitch with the down Doppler effect as she accelerated. “HAR Har har har HAR…!” Jerry sat up, gasping for breath as he howled with laughter, wiping the ketchup from his t-shirt with a dish towel. He and Fred supported each other, both guffawing with vigor, tears the size of road apples coursing down their cheeks, Fred still holding the blank-loaded ancient .22 carbine. We’ll never know how long they would have laughed if they hadn’t been suddenly interrupted. “FREEZE! Drop that gun!” They both looked up and froze as they found themselves facing the muzzles of revolvers in the hands of two of San Francisco’s Finest. Fred dropped the gun. They both raised their hands. “WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON AROUND HERE?” One of the officers demanded. Fred snerkled… Jerry grinned… and they started laughing again, which thoroughly baffled the Boys-in-Blue. “What IS going on here?” they demanded again. “Oh… nothing, really, Officers…” said Fred. “Bull Bleep!” rejoined Officer Number One. “We just were driving up Oak Street when some lady went screaming past us like she’d seen a banshee! I had to chase her two blocks before I could catch her… and she said there was a murder here! We have her downstairs, safe in the back of our cruiser. Now, for the last time, WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON HERE?” Well, between bursts and spurts of giggles and laughs, Fred and Jerry shared the story of Miss Vivian, the Cook-Who-Would-Not-Stay-Fired, and their solution to the problem. By the time they finished their tale, there were four guys sitting on the kitchen floor, streaming tears and howling with laughter – two still in partial duck-hunting garb (except for Jerry’s “bloody” t-shirt) and two in blue. Eventually, they all recovered to the point of functionality. And the two policemen recruited themselves as accomplices: “Tell ya what, fellas! We’ll take her home. And we’ll tell her that we’re gonna call the coroner and file the reports, but that the shooter got away and is still at large. We’ll tell her that the neighborhood just ain’t safe, and it’d be a darned good idea to NEVER come back here. Bet she’ll stay fired this time!” She did. * * * * *

I think this is good reason for not making to WR... Isaiah Wolf Rotter Born 13 Feb 20194:25 am7 Lbs 15 Oz21 inches

Sorry, we do not have any technical answers. We were finally able to get the Tech guys involved and it got fixed. That's all we know at this time.

May be possibly something else but check the base pins are not locking in.

EMF Great Western II made by Pietta. I really, really like the Californian version(pretty slick out of the box), but the Alchimista I, II, and III’s are good too. https://www.emf-company.com/store/pc/-Californian-c65.htm Oh, Welcome to the best game there is and the Wire!

The beard is a bit different, but he is certainly not the first military rabbi in the U.S. Armed Forces. For example, Navy Chaplains Rabbi Lt. Cdr. Edgar Siskin served with the 1st MarDiv on Guadalcanal and Pelaleu during WWII. Rabbi Earl Stone also served on Guadalcanal with the Marines. Rabbi Roland B. Gittelsohn was the 5th MarDiv Jewish chaplain on Iwo Jima. He was the first Jewish chaplain appointed by the Marine Corps. Of course, all military chaplains, especially nowadays, will minister to whoever needs their services, in garrison or on the battlefield. Bless them!

https://www.haaretz.com/us-news/.premium.MAGAZINE-the-rabbi-deploying-to-afghanistan-with-his-elite-u-s-army-battalion-1.6937477?fbclid=IwAR2lyd8DY33DuUHQyZOmP8nVkxy6EMCBPO7_3dXMAIhXk7dD49fqsC8TKEY What’s the function of the chaplain? “The chaplain does anything that the soldier does – except that in the U.S. Army, we’re noncombatants. So we’re not meant to take offensive positions or attack targets. As part of the command staff, we’re there to support our unit, but whatever our soldiers do – if they’re training in techniques to evade the enemy, or digging foxholes, doing surveillance and things like that – we have to be nested within the unit, and not be a burden or slow it down. “During routine periods, we are there to provide support for everyone who’s on the ground, to offer the commander religious counsel and provide support for the soldiers emotionally, mentally, morally. All 800 soldiers have free access to your office. People tell you about personal issues that are bothering them.” What’s the philosophy behind that, and why would a non-Jew choose to consult a Jewish rabbi? There must be a military psychologist on the base. “The military is interested in mission readiness. If you’re not squared away at home, how great a warrior could you be? The goal is to ensure that soldiers are well cared for, and that they’re coming from a good, supportive place. They know that anything that happens within our environment is kept completely confidential. Even in court, I’m not allowed to disclose anything that they speak to me about. Some might go to a therapist – which I am not – but others will come to me because, as a chaplain, you are ‘boots on the ground’ with your soldiers, you do PT [physical training] with them, you exercise with them. So they know you, and also the word may have gotten around a bit that I have been able to help soldiers.”

Howdy, y'all. As the title says, I have a starter double rig that is free to a good home, but the home has to be with someone who's just starting out and needs some leather. When I was just starting out many moons ago, a good cowboy sent me a rig for the price of shipping, and I want to do the same for someone else. It ain't perfect, but it's cheap and it'll get ya out there shootin'. So here's the description: Ranger style belt. The nice thing about these belts is if it's too big, it can be adjusted by taking out the stitching and resewing it. The way this one is set up it's 41 1/2" from the end of the buckle where the tongue hits to the middle of the space between the 3rd and 4th holes (six holes). Belt has home-made .45 loops riveted into the middle of it. If you shoot .38's, those'll need to come off. The belt does have my alias initials on each end. Two Hunter Company double loop holsters for 5 inch single action pistols in good condition. One left hand strong side, one right hand strong side. One .38 caliber loading strip. It's relatively new and has two sets of five loops on one side and one set of ten on the other. I'd like to have $20 to cover the shipping. I can do Paypal or a check, it don't matter to me. Post here if ya want it.

Go buy the longest pair of jeans you can find then cut off the legs then sew across the cuffs .instant long gun covers

What do you call the string that goes either 1-5-2-4-3-4-2-5-1-3 or 5-1-4-2-3-2-4-1-5-3, A "P" Trap. "Single tap sweep all five targets starting from either end twice." This sounds fine with no other explanation needed. Randy

I thought it stood for the infamous Lumpy Grits Bar Tab!

Everything is likety split fast again! Thanks

Some guest that showed up during the snow storm hunting for food out the back of my place.

Can you imagine trying to use a crewed Submarine for a test in Today's Navy. For several years NAWS China Lake used surplus WWII tanks for moving target testing. They were driven by range personnel while aircraft attempted to hit them with MK-76 (Blue Death) practice bombs. The practice was terminated when one of the Mk-76s actually penetrated the crew compartment. the Mk-76 was designed to replicate the characteristics of 500 pound live bombs in an economical package that does minimal damage to the range. Here is a picture of one for those that have never seen one.

I really have no desire to have pretty guns. They get abused. What's the point? My Vaquero's have no blueing left on the back straps, barrels are 50% bare, and so is the ejector rod housing. The left grip is chipped. If I had to replace them I'd buy the ugliest, highest quality guns, for the best price. If they were painted with spray paint I wouldn't care just so they worked as designed. No body I know oohs and aahs about competition guns. I'm concerned about function and how they feel in my hands. My poor rifles and shotguns look like canoe paddles after a couple years. Maybe, when I get older and less abusive I'll purchase a pair of FA 97's, they fit my hands quite nicely.

Well at least he was honest. Australian pilot spells out ‘I’m Bored’ during test flight

I don’t go to the theater buy I do have Netflix.

Leave it to a Submariner to poo-poo a direct hit. Thanks Joe.

Lawman Mark, Ya done good on that Marlin, especially if its a stock Marlin. I've encountered a couple 'stock' Marlins that were pretty good, with only a couple minor gremlins. As Lumpy suggested........ it might be time to buy a couple lotto tickets. ..........Widder

This right here. Rugers never felt right to me, no matter how many pairs of grips I went through. Maybe they would feel better shooting two handed, but gunfighter or duelist they just feel wrong to me. I also have small hands so that could be it. In all walks of shooting life, I have seen some really great shooters with what folks would consider cheap or inferior guns and some people that couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with super high end guns. If it don't feel right, it ain't the gun for you. If it does feel right, it don't matter who's name is on it.

At least to me. I've seen the scam where I won the lottery, or some long-lost relative that I've never heard of died and left me a bunch of money. And all I had to do was send this lawyer/banker/whatever my banking information and he would quickly send me my inheritance/lottery winnings. And then there's the one where the American had several million dollars in the bank, and he died, leaving no heirs. The banking official plans to steal the several million dollars, but he needs an assistant to get the money to the states. If I send him all my banking information, claiming to be the heir of the dead American, they will send me the several million dollars, and I get to keep half of it for my trouble. I give the other half to the crooked banking official - supposedly. But since I am crooked enough to go along with this scheme, I will keep all of the money. But the one today - never heard one like this before. They found where I have 10 million dollars in their Bank. They're not sure whether it is a lottery winnings or an inheritance, but they are certain it is 10 million dollars. What is confusing, is that two men showed up yesterday, saying that I sent them to collect my money. The poor banking official who is writing me does not understand why I would send someone else to collect my money. He put them off for a day. If I did not send someone else to collect my money - if these two men are frauds - I need to quickly let him know, and send my banking information, so he can send me the 10 million dollars before they scam it away from the bank.

Dieu spelled backwards is chien. Dio spelled backwards is cane. Bůh spelled backwards is pes. Собака spelled backwards is Бог. I dunno, Dawg. Still havin' problems.

My Son-in-Law is the best B-BQ'ER ever, and he times his cookouts by the number of beers he drinks. So many beers for pork loin, so many for beef, so many for chicken and so on. It's become a legend in the family and it's true. If he miscounts the beer he screws up the meats! It's all part of some very agreeable family Sunday dinners.

Probably, but it doesn't make it any less accurate or amusing.

St. Louis Suomi gets the Magazine. He just PM’d me and I responded.

Smuteye, That is obviously written by a Brit.

Are the transfer bars hitting the bottom of the firing pin when cocking?

might want to start a whole new thread for this. This one is fragmented so bad it is hard to understand

Colts are better than Roogers!

Two sizes too small and stretched ov... nope, Stop it, Joe..

What's the big deal with scratching your furniture? Do you actually believe that stuff is yours? Whose house do you thinj=k it is? You are there to serve your cat!

Well thanks to J Bar I went out and bought one of these things. I just hope I don't end up with a barrel collection like he has...I already have an Encore! I'll soon be evaluating the Mini .45... I got a deal I was unable to resist given the astronomical MSRPs in LGS. I'm going to look in my archives and see what .45 CS loads I can make for them. Widder sent me some information about Gold Dots and I'm tempted to see what hollow points are available.

Yup, its faster for me too. Not sure if it's back up to full speed yet, but at least now I don't forget why I clicked on a thread before it comes up.

Years later when I saw what Microsoft's stock was doing I had a sudden need for some Fruit of the Looms,... if not Huggies! .

Tony, I combined all the posts into one, so everybody can come to one place for info. You had the honor of making the very first post on the subject. SASS HQ has been in touch with the tech guys that run the servers. They are working on it.

Nah, if it was running on her server it would be lightning fast; remember someone deleted everything off of it.

I reload my own as I can make loads that can not be purchased.