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Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

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Posts posted by Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

  1. 5 hours ago, Alpo said:

    Two problems with your story.

     

    "What will it be" is too ambiguous. That could mean anything. The correct question is, "would you like a drink". That is an offer, for which no mention of renumeration is made.

     

    Second problem. The price is one bit? While a quarter is called two bits, that's because originally the Spanish dollar was cut into eight pieces, called a bit, each one being worth 12 and a half cents. I have not heard of a piece of a coin being accepted is money since the 1700s.

     

    2020_12_04_07_53_54.jpg.db548baad181857a3e445c298497e980.jpg

  2. image.thumb.png.7d376a799d1e352a823d0c342c21afdc.png

     

    A cowboy enters the SALOON, grabs a seat, as the bartender approaches and asks, "What'll it be?"

    The cowboy says, "I'll have a rye whiskey please."

    The bartender gives him the drink and says, "That'll be one bit."

    The cowboy responds, "What do you mean? I don't owe you anything for this."

    The towns local lawyer who was sitting nearby and overheard the conversation, comments to the bartender, "You know, actually he's right. In the initial offer, which constitutes a binding contract upon acceptance, there was no stipulation of remuneration of any kind."

    The bartender is clearly not impressed, but nonetheless, turns to the cowboy and says, "Okay, Slim, you beat me for a drink. But don't ever come in here again."

    The next day, the same cowboy walks into the SALOON.

    The bartender yells, "What are you doing in here? I told you never to come back!"

    The cowboy says, "What are you talking about? I've never been in this SALOON in my life!"

    The bartender, obviously embarrassed apologies, "I'm very sorry, sir, but this is remarkable. You must have a double."

    To which the cowboy calmly says, "Thanks. Make it a rye whiskey."

    • Like 2
    • Haha 3
  3. I have been constantly searching the internet for available ammo for my existing firearms, and like many of you, found the common sizes to either be completely unavailable, or with high, jacked up prices. :angry:

    My thought then went to searching for ammo that was readily available, possibly considering purchasing the appropriate firearm to go with it. That's when Dantankerous created a Post that mirrored that exact thought process. 

     

     

    Well, after realizing that wasn't going to solve the problem, I persevered, seeking another source.

    Searching deep into the bowels of the GOGGLE pages, I came across a website that had all the ammo sizes I was looking for. :o

    Oodles of 9mm, bulk even, along with 38 cal as well as .357 magnum . They even had plenty of Cowboy ammo.

     

    2020_11_23_04_43_04.thumb.png.f47c6d79ba4ca69b0a8bcca9ddeb3bef.png .19 cents/round

     

    2020_11_23_04_49_24.thumb.png.a1ea01979f3c17af802a31d476e281be.png .50 cents/round

     

    I promptly put a large order in my Cart, completed the order process, and when it got to the shipping address and to what Country.....the United States was not listed!

    You see, the website - www.STARGETSHOOTING.com was based in image.thumb.png.0112fbf6ecd32a601f3c270803bd0ef6.png , yes....FRANCE! :lol:

     

    Not to be deterred in my quest for ammo, I sent them an email, which read like this, making sure that I included a translation to English as well.

     

    2020_11_23_04_26_11.thumb.png.48fae3a66e4e71b26a5e281dd8e46b28.png


    This morning I was pleasantly surprised to see that they had responded to my request. :)

     

    2020_11_23_04_26_39.thumb.png.1a8542a79bfb35aa652b34240207cd2c.png

     

    ...which translates to:

     

    2020_11_23_04_27_44.thumb.png.812beaf5e38598a8e4345525097d477b.png

     

    So you'll never know where your searches will lead you, and although it didn't pan out, it was fun trying. ;)

    • Like 2
  4.  

    For most of the trip so far there was little discussion amongst the passengers, most likely with each lost in their own thoughts and no one interested in starting meaningless conversation.
    Chance pulled his hat back over his eyes and settled back as best he could based on the conditions he was being provided. Wasn't long before he fell off to sleep.

     

    Father Kit had put the tall man in a cell as UB left the jail with his niece to grab a bite to eat across the street. He then placed the keys that UB had given him, back on the hook behind the desk, before leaving the jail himself. Once outside Kit stopped to pat Doc on the back. "I'm glad I could be of assistance, although I have little faith that this is anywhere from being close to coming to an end," he offered. "I have known many men of this character, and only God can judge them." With that Kit headed for the Land Office to check on Venus.
    He was just arriving at the steps to the boardwalk when the blast thrust his body forward and would have hit his head on the steps were it not for his quick actions to break his fall. Momentarily laying on the dusty street, he could hear the sound of shattering glass just in front of him which caused him to look up to see all the windows of the Land Office broken. Fearing the worse, he arose slowly, his ears still ringing from the explosion, approached the door, and just a he opened it, Venus met him in mid-step. "Are you alright?" they both spoke in unison. "I'm fine," Venus quickly replied. "As am I," Kit countered. Both then turned to look back at what used to be the Sheriff's Office, only to see the shredded remains of the building, debris still falling from the sky.
    Venus saw Doc laying on the ground in front of the jail, and as she and Kit began to approach, they could see Michigan Slim already arrive and being offering assistance.

     

    With the sound of horses yielding to the pulling of the reins by Whip, the stagecoach driver, along with the abrupt shaking of the coach itself, it became obvious to those inside the coach that they had come to a stop. As the soldier next to him pulled the curtain aside, Chance could see the small station not 50 feet away.
    "OK, folks. Time to stretch those legs while we give these horses a break," Whip shouted. "We'll be heading back out in an hour."  With that he opened the coach door extending a hand to the young boy and his mother who were first to exit, solely based on the actions of the three men. The soldier left next, and then Chase who found the dapper gentleman had grabbed his briefcase and was holding it tightly against his chest, appearing to be wanting the last one to go. All four passengers eventually made it inside the station where they found the building to be empty, but for a couple of small tables surrounded by chairs. Not the most accommodating features, but what one could expect in the middle of nowhere.

    • Like 3
  5. The jarring of the stagecoach on the rock strewn trail, abruptly and without apology, awoke the passenger. Lifting his head slowly while repositioning his hat back to its intended place on his head, he peered through purposefully half-opened eyes at the others that occupied the small cramped coach. Unaware of how long he had dozed off, he pulled his pocket watch from his left vest pocket, rubbing the gold engraved case, before releasing the cover. High noon. That would explain the dust choking, arid atmosphere that permeated the inside of the stagecoach.
    None of the other passengers appeared to be any distress from the current conditions, which made him somewhat ill at ease.
    "Let's see," he mused to himself.
    There's the mother with her son who looked to be about 6 years old. Neither were dressed extravagantly; however, one doesn't wear their best attire on a stagecoach ride cross-country. The mother looked to be just shy of 30 years, although her weathered face could be hiding a younger presence. Her dress was neat in appearance and based on the stitching, was hand-made, most likely by herself. A normal man would not have made such a trivial observance, yet he knew these things from first hand experience with his own mother, who hand-sewn all of the family clothing. The boys shirt and pants were easily hand-me-downs, with the sleeves much too long, and the waist of the pants cinched with a belt that gathered the excess material into a mangled mess of material. All of which meant that either other older siblings were part of the family, or the clothing were given as a charity gift to someone less fortunate. He guessed at the latter.
    The gentleman sitting next to her was the complete opposite. Tailored clothing took the brunt of the dust and dirt that made its way into the interior of the coach, and he was constantly taking what was a white handkerchief, now a burnt-orange color, making vain attempts to keep his outfit clean. A laced collar on his shirt belied that of a high society ranking, as did the cigar that he kept taking out of his jacket pocket, running its full length under his nose as he drew deep breaths, taking in the aroma of freshly rolled tobacco. He had a black briefcase that he kept secured by his side, always attentive to its presence, making sure it did not leave his sight.
    Next to himself sat a soldier, early twenties, still wearing full military dress in the colors of the Union Army. He appeared to be interested in the antics of the young boy, who was playing with two toy soldiers, making sounds of gunfire and banging the two figures together as if to simulate actual fighting. Images of actual battles he witnessed and participated in flashed through his mind as he recalled his own childhood growing up, playing the same way, waiting for that day when he could become a soldier. How much he now regrets those naive thoughts.
    Chance Morgan was the owner of a riverboat called the "Cajun Queen", which paddled up and down the mighty Mississippi loaded with gamblers, scantly clad women, as well as the elite rich who made him a fortune with this venture.
    For now, he was merely fulfilling his duty to his father, who had recently passed away, to ensure he received the proper burial he had requested in his will, that he be buried in East Fork.
    He would meet his sister Venus who resides there, and soon to be joined by his mother who will be arriving by train a week later.

    • Like 2
  6. One of my favorites as well. 

    Little known fact,  only one of which I have learned over the years. 

    “Africa” is credited to Toto keyboardist/vocalist David Paich and the late drummer Jeff Porcaro.

          There have been many bands whose songs are performed with the band's designated lead singer; however,  one of the band's most familiar songs ends up coming when another band member takes the lead.  Such is the case with AFRICA.

          Another example is the band The CARS.

          Lead singer was RIC Ocasek; however,  one of their popular hits came when band member Benjamin Orr stepped in and was lead singer on "DRIVE".

     

     

     

    • Like 1
  7. Thank you all for the SASSpedia breakdown on snake ID.

    The "funnies" were a nice touch.

    I did some additional research online, asked the snake several questions,  specifically how he got on our property, ie. "Did you cross the border illegally?", to which he didn't respond, of course.

    Downloaded an APP to assist:

    2020_11_15_08_27_27.jpg.c0998ec6d69566feff262bfaa1b826c3.jpg

    Got a reply that it was a "juvenile black racer". Looks like this:

    2020_11_14_04_33_41.jpg.2cd1bbea0c70ed4ec0af005be1ad82c4.jpg

     

    My snake looks like this:

    2020_11_14_04_30_59.jpg.ef9f03e0702e76b71e24af2b2305d019.jpg

     

    The closest guess by SASSepedia was the grey rat snake which looks like this:

    DSC00991.JPG.jpg.17eabfb7f99714ec3b0a4a47b4f015a4.jpg

     

    The description of the grey rat snake says it has a "stripe" running from the back of the eye to the rear of the jaw opening, which my snake doesn't have.

    The markings on the belly with their distinctive orange color ...

    20201114_151956.thumb.jpg.a9178a8beee64fbb02bb37a46a3dab2a.jpg

     

    ....makes me go with the racer ID.

    Either way, I returned his passport, and sent him on his way.

    20201114_152202.thumb.jpg.ea15b3e4b24ee5ed96c7ef5d18b48b13.jpg

    • Like 2
  8. 3 hours ago, J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE said:

    Get her to join SASS

     

    J. Mark,

          She was in the check-out lane at our local PUBLIX when I asked her if she wouldn't mind me taking a picture of the back of her shirt, to which she accepted. I did mention that I shoot Cowboy Action which seemed to surprise her.

  9. When Jack and Kit arrived in town, Jack headed straight for the Cafe while Kit pulled up to the Land Office dismounting from Orion and hopping onto the boardwalk with a skip in his step. Without hesitation, he reached for the door to the Office swinging it wide, removing his hat at the same time, turning and gently closing the door behind him. He was glad to be back in town where things were more subdued and normal and he was intent on checking on Venus to make sure she was alright, especially after the gunfight in the SALOON and his taking off after the bank robbers. He missed not having checked on her safety before leaving.
    Working his way to the back Office, he heard sobbing coming from the room.
    "Venus?" he queried as he stepped into the room. "Are you alright?"
    Her hands quickly wiped the tears she had already shed, placing the handkerchief back into her shirt pocket.
    "Kit!" she exclaimed as she stood up, moving her chair so she could embrace him with a welcoming hug. "I'm so glad you are safe. I worried so, praying that you would return unharmed."
    Her ensuing embrace resembled a bear hug, and came completely by surprise.
    Placing both hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her back so he could see her face.
    "Why the tears?" he asked.
    " I...I...I just received a telegram from.......my mom back East."  Tears began to well up in her eyes again.
    She continued with hesitation in her voice, struggling to get the words out. "My dad passed away."
    With that she fainted and it was Kits' quick actions that allowed him to catch her before she fell. Lifting her up he took her to a cot that was set up in an adjoining room. Grabbing a cloth from the sink and wetting it thoroughly, he returned to place it on her forehead. Gradually, she came to whispering softly, "Now you are my Guardian Angel".
    "I am sorry to hear about your dad," Kit offered his sincerest condolences. "Any plans to attend the funeral?" he  continued.
    "My mom and my brother are coming here to East Fork to have him buried here, as he wished to be laid to rest where he established this business. Besides, there really isn't anything for them in Missouri they can't do here. My brother is coming first by Overland Stage Line with my mother following later by railroad. They both wish to be with me."
    Knowing that she would be fine, and having assured her that he was safe as well, Kit apologized letting her know that the men would be heading out for Big Piney to take care of business related to Doc and Abigail who was recently rescued from kidnappers.
    Venus knew in her heart that she could not keep him from going, especially on such a dangerous mission, and merely wished for his safe return again.
    With that Kit left the Land Office and headed down to where Orion was left. He met up with Cactus Jack, who had left the cafe, along with Jacob and Linn.

    • Like 2
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