Sgt. C.J. Sabre, SASS #46770

I'm going to say again: I'd bet he spent hours out talking to people to get 5 minutes of those responses.

Not around here. You are just making an observation. Of course, in the "right" company, it certainly would. There are too many people out there just looking for an excuse to be offended. I doubt that it's fake, but highly edited. The guy probably spent hours out and about, then edited it down to get the results HE wanted.

We should have stopped there. Somehow, sheltering them, clothing them, feeding them, and basically GIVING them everything they need isn't doing the job. Or is it just me? Mods, if this goes too far please feel free to delete it.

I think the Second Marine slogan is Stand by to stand by for a definite tentative possible maybe with changes to follow. Or at least that was the result.

You very well might be correct. Like I said, it's been a long time. Hopefully Pale Wolf Brunelle will chime in and correct me. Upon reflection, I think that you're correct. The difference is that Duelists fire one handed, unlike the rest of us.

It's been a while, but I think that Duelist is one gun in one hand, fire it and holster. Then draw second gun with the other hand and fire. I think that Double Duelist is both guns out, fire first gun dry, then fire second without holstering the first.

OKAY, OKAY, I give!🤠

SET RAMMING SPEED!!

I can if he's trying to shoot while standing on that bad foot.

Guys that I know are shooters, I just presume that they are prepared. And since I'm generally a decent, relatively law abiding citizen, I don't NEED to find out. As for you, Blackwater, I don't need to out shoot you, with your foot, I can probably out RUN you.

When I first started driving a truck, that method of seating a tire on the rim was the standard. In many Trucking Companies, the fuel guy was also the tire guy and the Safety Guy, and that's how HE did it.

Back in those days, "pistol" was the common name for any handgun. In more modern terminology, a "pistol" is generally defined as a handgun with a single firing chamber. However I too still call revolvers a pistol.

Back when I was considering being a Firefighter as a career, I met a Columbus Fire Dept. Captain who could play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on a Federal Interceptor.

I don't. I have a couple Taurus 85s hidden near each door. They're only 5 shots, but my house is small enough that I SHOULD be able to get to my bedroom where my Mossberg 500 is if needed. IT has a 7 round magazine, 7 round side saddle, and an additional 5 rounds on the buttstock. And 3 of THEM are slugs. I'm not that concerned with somebody suddenly kicking in my door for 2 reasons: (1). I have a security camera system set up that watches 3 sides of the approach. The cameras are connected to my T.V., which is usually on even if we're not watching it, set to that input. If we're watching, a simple press of a button on the remote changes the input so that we can see them. I'm not too concerned with the 4th side (south), because my backyard neighbor is not only a good neighbor, but a GREAT neighbor. He's erected an 8 FOOT block wall between our properties. If the Bad Guys come that way, first they have to get through his yard, protected by walls and steel gates, then they still have to get over the wall. The west side is also protected by an 8 ft block wall because the city and the Railroad have one there to try to keep the bums off their property on the other side of that. The backyard is protected by not only those, but a 6' fence with a secured gate. They could get through that, but first they have to get to it. One of the cameras is set so that it can see that side from the street all the way to that gate. On the East side, where my other neighbor lives is a simple chain-link fence that goes all the way to the street. Wouldn't be worth the bother to jump that because they'd still have to transverse the yard to get to the door. (2). I have driveway alarm sensors set up monitoring both entrances in the front, (street side) of the property. If anybody walks past either of those, I get an alarm inside giving me time to at least access my front door gun, one of the aforementioned Taurus 85s, or access the shotgun if I would think it appropriate. To get to my previously mentioned 6' fence, they first have to go past that sensor. Even if I'm dead asleep, that alarm wakes me up, and that shotgun is right by my bed if needed, as is my 1911. While I don't have spare ammo WITH the 1911, the spare mag pouch is on my dresser only a few feet away where I could access it if needed. I suppose that if they were really determined, they could get to me, but I'm just not that important to make it worth the bother. I don't KNOW any Israeli assassins or spys.

I've been considering a set of these for the Muddog... https://www.ebay.com/itm/161785005404

I've certainly been called racist. While I AM a hard core dyed in the wool REDNECK, I'm certainly not racist. I've said it here before: I learned as a young Marine, that if a man can and will do what needs to be done, his race, religion, national origin or sexual orientation doesn't matter. If he can't or won't do what needs to be done, his race, religion, national origin or sexual orientation doesn't matter. Any time I've given anybody a Ration of Cr*p about some failure on his part, it was ONLY because he failed in some way. And of course, most of the time, he refused to accept the fact that he just plain failed. He blamed my criticism of him on some prejudice on MY part, not his failure. I believe I qualify for membership in the American Select Society Helping Others Less Enlightened!

That's kind of the purpose of this thread I think. to pass on information you have that others may not based on your experiences with guns that you've found to work well, despite what others may have heard about them. Like my post with my Taurus revolvers. Some think that they are just cheap knock-offs. While they're certainly not S&Ws, they're far from junk.

The only reason I quit drinking was diabetes.🤬

I have, and I think it's quite a read. Back just before the War, I was just a green kid from Ohio, all of 15 years old. My dad ran a small newspaper there, and I was helping him while going to school. Dad always wanted me to get an education. He thought I should be a lawyer because I like to argue so much. My sister was a couple years older, in college to be a teacher. She was smart, but naïve. She met up with a drummer from down Florida who said all the right things, and made her feel special. She wound up pregnant and he left town. I borrowed a pistol, an 1836 Colt Paterson, from the man that taught me how to shoot, an old Railroad man named Oscar Cordell, The Big O people called him, and chased after him. When I caught up to him, he took a shot at me, hitting me in the left arm. It left me with a nasty looking scar on the inside of my elbow. I fired back, killing him. When I brought his body in, I was arrested for the killing. When he heard my story, a local Judge , threw the case out sighting self defense on my part. But it didn’t end there. The drummer’s family sent a couple more of their kin to finish it with me. I mentioned that The Big O was a Railroad man, what I didn't say was that he was a Railroad Detective, and A good one. He taught me a lot, and when the drummer's kin came after me they didn’t fare any better than he had. The Judge got tired of seeing me in his courtroom, and advised that maybe I should make myself scarce in those parts. The War was just starting, so I enlisted in The Marines under an assumed name to make it harder to find me. I used a couple of names from cousins of mine, Cristian and Joshua. I kept my original last name of Rogers. I got myself stationed on the Naval Blockade off the South Carolina coast. I figured that that was far enough from Ohio that nobody would be hunting me there. Since I'm called Sgt. Sabre, you might think that I could handle one, but the opposite is true. Any time I got a Sabre in my hand, I wound up the one bleeding. My fellow Marines, in typical Marine Corps fashion started calling me Sgt. Sabre because of it and I kept the monicker. That's how I became known as Sgt. C.J. Sabre. On the other hand, I AM better than fair with my war souvenir, an 1861 Colt Navy. I took it from a Confederate Captain that I'd gotten into a scrape with, and when we were done, he didn't need it anymore. He didn't need his belt and holster either. Towards the end of the War, I was sent to Fort Huachuca in southern Arizona to help the Army train The Buffalo soldiers how to shoot Marine Corps style. While I was on the way to Arizona, I spotted a gun shop with something interesing In the front window. It was an 1860 Colt, but it had been converted to fire cartridge ammunition like a rifle. I had always wished that I could reload a pistol that way, so I went in to ask about it. The gunsmith told me that it was something called a "Richards Conversion". He told me that, if I wanted it done, he would cut off the back of the cylinder to allow a cartridge to be inserted. He would replace the rammer with an ejector rod, mount a breech plate on the frame with a frame mounted firing pin, rear sight, and loading gate on it, and cut the hammer to fit. He had parts to do it in stock, and it could be ready by the next day. I thought that such a thing was the greatest idea he'd heard in a while. "What's next," I wondered aloud, "Sliced bread?" "Actually, maybe something better." The gunsmith told me. With that, the 'smith brought out a newer Colt. It had everything the 'smith was going to add to my pistol and more. It had a topstrap on the frame, making it much stronger than the older open top pistols I was used to seeing. "This", the 'smith said, "is a pre-production model of the next Colt Revolving Pistol, called the 1873 Peacemaker. Colt's making most of them in a new .45 caliber, but this one is the same .38 caliber that your 1861 will be in. Just think of it, two pistols, that use the same ammunition." Now, by nature, I wasn't one to spend money on frivolous things, but this was too good to pass up. After test firing the new pistol out back of the gun shop, I decided I had to have it. But I needed something to carry it in. I'd still need my old holster for my '61. "No problem", the 'smith told me. "The saddle maker next door can fix you up with a new holster, and a belt with cartridge loops for the ammunition like the Mills belts the Army soldiers wear." I thanked him, and with the new pistol stuck in my belt, went next door the see the saddle maker. The saddle maker must have been in cahoots with the gunsmith, because he had a few holsters already made up for the new pistols like I had just bought. But since I was using the new .38 ammunition, he didn't have a belt with cartridge loops ready made. "I have plain belts that I can add the loops to, and can have one made up in a hour or so," the saddle maker told me. While I thought that that would be fine, I did have a request. The belt I was currently wearing was the one I'd taken, along with the pistol, off that Confederate Captain that no longer needed it. The belt was kind of worn and stretched out, but I liked the Officer's buckle that was on it. I asked that the buckle, be used on the new belt. "Sure, I can do that," the saddle maker said. "Leave it with me and I'll see to it." Next day, I went to the gun shop to see about my pistol. “Got it right here,” the gunsmith offered. “Turned out nice, too." The pistol was changed dramatically! The ’smith had done not only what he said he would do, but more. The most obvious was the new front sight on it. The old one was little more than a brass bump on the barrel. The new one was dovetailed into the barrel, and could be drifted as needed to adjust for windage. Further, the ’smith had re-blued the barrel so that it’s finish matched the new parts he’d installed. At the 'smith’s instance, and after checking that the pistol was indeed not loaded, I cocked the hammer. The feel was MUCH smoother than it had been. Pulling the trigger was much the same. A short, light pull was all it took to fire the gun now. Paying the 'Smith, I headed next door to the saddle maker’s shop for my new gunbelt and holster. The saddle maker was as much an artist as was the gunsmith. He had done as he had been asked, mounting my old buckle on the new belt. The new holster was what the saddle maker called a “Half breed” holster. Where the back of the holster folded over to form the belt loop, it followed the contour of the body, dropping the pistol down a few inches from waist level, and was fastened to the holster's body with a separate loop. Since my old holster had been a cross draw, this one rode on my right hip. Both belt and holster were stained a deep black, set off with a couple of nickled conchos on each end. The bullet loops, thirty of them, were centered on the belt. My old holster had been dyed to match, too. Altogether it was a handsome rig. “Here’s something else I came up with for you,” the saddle maker said. “What’s this for?”, I asked. What I had been handed looked like a miniature of the gunbelt. Less than a foot long, and only as wide as the bullets it held were long, it was a strip of leather holding ten additional rounds of ammunition. “Since the ammunition comes in boxes of fifty, I thought that this might come in handy to carry what was left over after loading both pistols and your belt. I call it a 'loading strip'." When the War was over, the Marine Corps didn't need me as much as it had, so I mustered out. I stayed in Arizona and took to driving freight wagons. I occasionally worked for the Law, rode in a few possies, and eventually joined the Arizona Rangers.

Coming from you, yeah.

They don't. Ther Lame Stream Media has already done so: It means that you disagree with them because you're not like them.

You need to tell him that to keep clean water, he should use less laundry detergent. He need to start wearing his underwear for 4 days, frontwards, backwards, inside, and outside.

Does anybody ever argue over how to hang the paper towels like they do with toilet paper? I was replacing the roll when this question popped into what passes for my mind. I don't think I've ever heard hanging the paper towels argued over. If hanging paper towels from the front is right, why doesn't the same standard apply to TP?

Glad to see that you're so well protected.

I had a few in my teens. I never got the actual "Launch Pad" with all the gear though. I just stuck the rod into the dirt, stuffed a 3" piece of cannon fuse into the motor, lit it with an old Zippo I found somewhere, and RAN!