Saturday, March 19, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
What gun for asteroid?
I'm sure you've all seen the unbelievable devastation caused by the tsunami in Japan by now, and I must ask all the preppers out there... What preps for a 20 foot, 30 MPH wall of water?
My brother and I were talking about this on the way out to the desert yesterday, and we were at a bit of a loss. To me, it feels like the "What gun for X" hypotheticals about outlandish scenarios you might find yourself in, and what gun you would choose.
The only thing we came up with was strapping a boat to your roof, or some kind of floating ocean hamster ball.
The destruction in the videos is so relentless, so complete, thatit's almost it IS unbelievable. It is a force of nature from which we have no defense.
May be a helipad on your roof?
My brother and I were talking about this on the way out to the desert yesterday, and we were at a bit of a loss. To me, it feels like the "What gun for X" hypotheticals about outlandish scenarios you might find yourself in, and what gun you would choose.
The only thing we came up with was strapping a boat to your roof, or some kind of floating ocean hamster ball.
The destruction in the videos is so relentless, so complete, that
May be a helipad on your roof?
Compooter. I has one.
A real one this time. No more struggling with Lappy on long sessions.
I mainly bought this computer for Minecraft, and in that regard I was successful.
Secondary and tertiary goals include things like writing more, and having a solid box on which to telecommute. The box was of decent spec, but hardly gamer-ready, so I picked up an ATI graphics card and a larger power supply for aforementioned video card.
But who cares about that. MINECRAFT!
It's so awesome. I fucking love it. I've got the display settings turned all the way up, and it runs perfectly (Although the day/night changes can still lag this quad core, 4gb ram, 1 gb vid ram box. Java, you stupid fat bastard.) I can honestly say I was speechless when I saw my first world save with no fog obstructing my vision beyond 50 feet. I spent an amount of time that must be measured in days in that virtual world, and I got to see it completely for the first time.
Since I've gotten most of the Minecraftery out of my system, and have mostly been interested in what Notch will do with it in the future, I believe I will soon be visiting the "games I'll play if I ever get a gaming rig" list.
This list contains such noble games as Starcraft 2 and STALKER, and ranges down to the ignoble reader favorite (ha!) Dwarf Fortress.
Stay tuned!
PS: It's an HP, and damn their eyes for the amount of shit they put on their boxes, and the effort they go to in order to prevent you from removing it. Just when I think I got it all some HP solution tracker/helper/survey program identifies itself for my increasing wrath.
I mainly bought this computer for Minecraft, and in that regard I was successful.
Secondary and tertiary goals include things like writing more, and having a solid box on which to telecommute. The box was of decent spec, but hardly gamer-ready, so I picked up an ATI graphics card and a larger power supply for aforementioned video card.
But who cares about that. MINECRAFT!
It's so awesome. I fucking love it. I've got the display settings turned all the way up, and it runs perfectly (Although the day/night changes can still lag this quad core, 4gb ram, 1 gb vid ram box. Java, you stupid fat bastard.) I can honestly say I was speechless when I saw my first world save with no fog obstructing my vision beyond 50 feet. I spent an amount of time that must be measured in days in that virtual world, and I got to see it completely for the first time.
Since I've gotten most of the Minecraftery out of my system, and have mostly been interested in what Notch will do with it in the future, I believe I will soon be visiting the "games I'll play if I ever get a gaming rig" list.
This list contains such noble games as Starcraft 2 and STALKER, and ranges down to the ignoble reader favorite (ha!) Dwarf Fortress.
Stay tuned!
PS: It's an HP, and damn their eyes for the amount of shit they put on their boxes, and the effort they go to in order to prevent you from removing it. Just when I think I got it all some HP solution tracker/helper/survey program identifies itself for my increasing wrath.
The A in M1A stands for AWESOME
My brother and I had a small outing to the desert to do some shooting, and I finally (yes, call me PDB) shot my M1A.
The M1A is the most expensive gun I own, it's also the gun I waited the longest to get. It represents everything I love about rifles, and had been at the top of my list ever since I first laid eyes on one. I went with the scout squad because I knew that if I got a standard, I'd just want a National Match and a Scout Squad anyway. Now I can just get the NM if I want.
After feeling the surprisingly gentle recoil of the Garand, I was a little worried that a synthetic stock scout squad would be too light, and recoil harshly, but it somehow recoils more lightly than the Garand. I had heard that the muzzle break and rubber stock pad work overtime on this gun, but I severely underestimated how smooth and soft they made the recoil. By the end of the day, the Garand had begun to feel unrefined next to the M1A, which is quite a feat.
The perennial favorite of the desert is 3 liter soda bottles from the 99 cent store. We set them up, and blow them up, usually at close range. Since this trip out was just my brother and I, we set the bottles up a little further. Along with the 10" gong, most of the 3 liters wound up at around 200 yards, but I wanted one that would last. So I grabbed a suitably hi-viz (fiz?) orange one, and took the long walk through the wash and up the hill to about 325 yards and set it up.
We opened smoothly with the M1A, and after ringing the gong repeatedly, I decided I wanted to start the fun of taking pot shots at the tiny orange dot on the hillside throughout the day. Sadly, I ruined the fun on my second shot from a cross legged sitting position. At cleanup I saw it was a grazing shot, catching only about a half inch in from the left side, but it was still a hit on a 6" wide target at 325 yards off irons.
The M1A was the go-to gun for cleaning up targets that refused to be shot. Only one resisted its charms, but that target danced around all the other bullets too. It wasn't until I was shooting My Rifle later in the day that we finally got rid of it. It never ceases to surprise me how something so simple as "Front sight, press" gets consistent hits after magazines of mid-day misses due to fatigue. After loading My Rifle and looking for targets I decided to try for that slippery 3 liter with some renewed focus. A different focus. I placed the front sight in perfect focus, and the target became an out of focus tiny blob of white sitting on top of the front sight. From a standing position, I hit dead center on the first shot the target that we had missed for dozens of rounds from sitting and prone position.
Fundamentals, fundamentals, fundamentals.
It's easy (and fun) to get sloppy with both eyes open in the large aperture sight on close targets, but when your target is small and far, and fatigue has set in, what you really need is "front sight, press."
The only problem that day was that we didn't have enough 308 to shoot it all day long. But I'm not sure there's enough 308 in the world to get your fill of shooting that gun.
It is slick, it is smooth, it is light, it is accurate, it hits hard, and it will hold 20 rounds of reach-out-and-touch-someone in a light, balanced package. But what is most important is that it is worth every penny. The M1A is the most expensive gun I own, and to be honest, I was a little afraid I was going to walk away from my first experience with it wondering how much cash I could get for it to put toward an AR-10. I am extremely impressed with this gun, and would recommend that anyone who wants a high quality, full powered, detachable mag fed, classically styled rifle begin saving their pennies now. The M1A really is the pinnacle of classic American rifles, and it is no wonder it has endured.
The M1A is the most expensive gun I own, it's also the gun I waited the longest to get. It represents everything I love about rifles, and had been at the top of my list ever since I first laid eyes on one. I went with the scout squad because I knew that if I got a standard, I'd just want a National Match and a Scout Squad anyway. Now I can just get the NM if I want.
After feeling the surprisingly gentle recoil of the Garand, I was a little worried that a synthetic stock scout squad would be too light, and recoil harshly, but it somehow recoils more lightly than the Garand. I had heard that the muzzle break and rubber stock pad work overtime on this gun, but I severely underestimated how smooth and soft they made the recoil. By the end of the day, the Garand had begun to feel unrefined next to the M1A, which is quite a feat.
The perennial favorite of the desert is 3 liter soda bottles from the 99 cent store. We set them up, and blow them up, usually at close range. Since this trip out was just my brother and I, we set the bottles up a little further. Along with the 10" gong, most of the 3 liters wound up at around 200 yards, but I wanted one that would last. So I grabbed a suitably hi-viz (fiz?) orange one, and took the long walk through the wash and up the hill to about 325 yards and set it up.
We opened smoothly with the M1A, and after ringing the gong repeatedly, I decided I wanted to start the fun of taking pot shots at the tiny orange dot on the hillside throughout the day. Sadly, I ruined the fun on my second shot from a cross legged sitting position. At cleanup I saw it was a grazing shot, catching only about a half inch in from the left side, but it was still a hit on a 6" wide target at 325 yards off irons.
The M1A was the go-to gun for cleaning up targets that refused to be shot. Only one resisted its charms, but that target danced around all the other bullets too. It wasn't until I was shooting My Rifle later in the day that we finally got rid of it. It never ceases to surprise me how something so simple as "Front sight, press" gets consistent hits after magazines of mid-day misses due to fatigue. After loading My Rifle and looking for targets I decided to try for that slippery 3 liter with some renewed focus. A different focus. I placed the front sight in perfect focus, and the target became an out of focus tiny blob of white sitting on top of the front sight. From a standing position, I hit dead center on the first shot the target that we had missed for dozens of rounds from sitting and prone position.
Fundamentals, fundamentals, fundamentals.
It's easy (and fun) to get sloppy with both eyes open in the large aperture sight on close targets, but when your target is small and far, and fatigue has set in, what you really need is "front sight, press."
The only problem that day was that we didn't have enough 308 to shoot it all day long. But I'm not sure there's enough 308 in the world to get your fill of shooting that gun.
It is slick, it is smooth, it is light, it is accurate, it hits hard, and it will hold 20 rounds of reach-out-and-touch-someone in a light, balanced package. But what is most important is that it is worth every penny. The M1A is the most expensive gun I own, and to be honest, I was a little afraid I was going to walk away from my first experience with it wondering how much cash I could get for it to put toward an AR-10. I am extremely impressed with this gun, and would recommend that anyone who wants a high quality, full powered, detachable mag fed, classically styled rifle begin saving their pennies now. The M1A really is the pinnacle of classic American rifles, and it is no wonder it has endured.
I'm Subaru folk now.
I got a new car; a 2011 Subaru Outback. And yes, it really does come with an intrinsic sense of self satisfaction, thanks for asking. I was about to buy an ubiquitous Toyota Rav4 because it was most of the things I wanted, but the day before, my dad introduced me to the new outback (unlike the older, more wagon-y model that he has), and the next day I bought it. And thank god I got my new car in a manual. I was ready to go automatic for lack of manual versions of the cars I was looking at, but the Outback worked its way in. People these days. There were literally four manual transmission Outbacks in Southern California. Two were ugly, and one was in my color. Armed with that information, I got a price that allows me to chuckle at Rav4s for how much more car I got for quite a bit less money. Plus, having a car made at a zero landfill plant makes non-Subaru hippies cry when they can't take the moral high ground on their choice of car. I put an NRA sticker on the back just to piss them off.
The car represents a kind of phase shift for me. To quote everyone who knows me, "It's a grown-up car!" Exiting the phase of "Yeah, fast cars are awesome, I love to go fast." and entering the phase of "Yeah, fast cars are awesome, and I'm going to die if I get the combination of perfect song, perfect level of congestion of the freeway, and my recurring lead-foot syndrome." The Subaru is considerably slower than the turbo Passat. To get a manual, I had to get the smaller engine. But beside being slow, it's also smoother, and much more refined. The clutch is electronic, so at first, I could barely drive it. I couldn't feel a damn thing. I resorted to looking at the tachometer to know when I should shift, and when I missed a shift and ground the gears, the only way I knew it was because I could hear it. I couldn't feel shit. The fact that there is no real engine noise, very little power (comparatively, I guess), a very smooth ride, and no raw connection between you and the engine, gearbox, and clutch makes it a lot harder to get excited, and attempt to beat the land speed record while driving a slalom of zombie drivers on the freeway while Born Too Slow turns that knob in your adrenal gland up to 11.
That said, there is truly nothing like that rush. But it ain't worth gettin' dead over.
Oh yeah, I was sure I was going to miss the turning radius on the Passat, but the Outback blew the Passat out of the water. I'm pretty sure I could flip a bitch inside a parking spot. It's really impressive, and really useful.
Coming back from the desert trip yesterday we popped the Outback's cherry with some light off-roading along a dirt road mountain pass of rocks and washes. The latter of which sent most of the contents of the trunk airborne for enough time to do the tablecloth pull trick with my trunk liner. After a bit of practice, I got a better feel for how to spot the washes and take them in a way that didn't make me worry for my virgin car. Honestly, I'll admit to having a bit of the pucker factor for most of the trip. Driving over sharp rocks, steering through soft sand, and hitting bumps that would have broken my last car in half, all at a fair speed was mentally taxing. But these thoughts were countered at each turn by the Subaru's constant reassurance that yes, it could do this, and yes, it could probably do it backwards and at twice the speed. In fact, thinking back now, I don't think we ever bottomed out. 8.7" of ground clearance and good suspension are probably the reason for that. I was impressed, and we got the new Subaru the thing that Subarus seem to need most; dirty.
The car represents a kind of phase shift for me. To quote everyone who knows me, "It's a grown-up car!" Exiting the phase of "Yeah, fast cars are awesome, I love to go fast." and entering the phase of "Yeah, fast cars are awesome, and I'm going to die if I get the combination of perfect song, perfect level of congestion of the freeway, and my recurring lead-foot syndrome." The Subaru is considerably slower than the turbo Passat. To get a manual, I had to get the smaller engine. But beside being slow, it's also smoother, and much more refined. The clutch is electronic, so at first, I could barely drive it. I couldn't feel a damn thing. I resorted to looking at the tachometer to know when I should shift, and when I missed a shift and ground the gears, the only way I knew it was because I could hear it. I couldn't feel shit. The fact that there is no real engine noise, very little power (comparatively, I guess), a very smooth ride, and no raw connection between you and the engine, gearbox, and clutch makes it a lot harder to get excited, and attempt to beat the land speed record while driving a slalom of zombie drivers on the freeway while Born Too Slow turns that knob in your adrenal gland up to 11.
That said, there is truly nothing like that rush. But it ain't worth gettin' dead over.
Oh yeah, I was sure I was going to miss the turning radius on the Passat, but the Outback blew the Passat out of the water. I'm pretty sure I could flip a bitch inside a parking spot. It's really impressive, and really useful.
Coming back from the desert trip yesterday we popped the Outback's cherry with some light off-roading along a dirt road mountain pass of rocks and washes. The latter of which sent most of the contents of the trunk airborne for enough time to do the tablecloth pull trick with my trunk liner. After a bit of practice, I got a better feel for how to spot the washes and take them in a way that didn't make me worry for my virgin car. Honestly, I'll admit to having a bit of the pucker factor for most of the trip. Driving over sharp rocks, steering through soft sand, and hitting bumps that would have broken my last car in half, all at a fair speed was mentally taxing. But these thoughts were countered at each turn by the Subaru's constant reassurance that yes, it could do this, and yes, it could probably do it backwards and at twice the speed. In fact, thinking back now, I don't think we ever bottomed out. 8.7" of ground clearance and good suspension are probably the reason for that. I was impressed, and we got the new Subaru the thing that Subarus seem to need most; dirty.
Catching up, getting ahead
A mere two months into my current employment, I'm trying out for a promotion, having being goaded on by my boss. Somehow there is little competition for the position, so many suspect me of being the frontrunner. I didn't think I was qualified enough for the position, but the last two months have been very reassuring to me in regards to my ability to pick up new things quickly. I'm way ahead of where I should be, and I think that's why my boss wanted to make sure I at least tried out.
That's the good news.
The bad news is that doing this means I'm essentially doing two jobs. The stress has caused me to get sick, gain weight, and break out. Fortunately, this will only last for the month before they make the decision, then I can focus on one or the other. Interestingly enough, if I get the position my coworkers tell me I'll need two promotions, and two raises, which would probably make me the most well paid and skilled new guy still on probation. A few people told me that they don't expect much from you in the first 6 month probationary period, but I'm not the kind of person who meets those kinds of expectations.
That's the good news.
The bad news is that doing this means I'm essentially doing two jobs. The stress has caused me to get sick, gain weight, and break out. Fortunately, this will only last for the month before they make the decision, then I can focus on one or the other. Interestingly enough, if I get the position my coworkers tell me I'll need two promotions, and two raises, which would probably make me the most well paid and skilled new guy still on probation. A few people told me that they don't expect much from you in the first 6 month probationary period, but I'm not the kind of person who meets those kinds of expectations.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Quick range trip
On my last .22 trip to the range, I brought the 1911 for a little attention. Unfortunately, I didn't shoot it very well.
So last weekend, I went to the range with the GI .45 and the XD-9, and was surprised to find that I just sucked that day.
A a few single ragged holes through a few targets later, I had full confidence back in my 1911, and my XD-9 felt much more natural than I remembered.
I got a few compliments on my shooting, as usual, but no one seemed interested in any pointers, so I didn't offer them.
One of my near-term goals is to get as good with my .30 rifles as I am with my pistols and AR carbine.
So last weekend, I went to the range with the GI .45 and the XD-9, and was surprised to find that I just sucked that day.
A a few single ragged holes through a few targets later, I had full confidence back in my 1911, and my XD-9 felt much more natural than I remembered.
I got a few compliments on my shooting, as usual, but no one seemed interested in any pointers, so I didn't offer them.
One of my near-term goals is to get as good with my .30 rifles as I am with my pistols and AR carbine.
THIS BLAG NEEDS MOAR GENERATIONAL DISPUTES!
I was thinking about the reason there can be no Medicare or Social Security reform.
Seniors.
Today's politicians regard the senior voting bloc as solid, reliable, trust-worthy, restless, pernicious, and vindictive. That's why no politician subject to reelection would dare touch any of the senior hot-button issues.
So instead of dealing with these ticking time bombs, we get to watch helplessly as they slowly count down. The seniors will get theirs, and keep kicking the can down the road until it's no longer an issue for them... Because they're dead.
I can't help but wonder how much worse it's going to get when the glut of Boomers reach immaturity.
Seniors.
Today's politicians regard the senior voting bloc as solid, reliable, trust-worthy, restless, pernicious, and vindictive. That's why no politician subject to reelection would dare touch any of the senior hot-button issues.
So instead of dealing with these ticking time bombs, we get to watch helplessly as they slowly count down. The seniors will get theirs, and keep kicking the can down the road until it's no longer an issue for them... Because they're dead.
I can't help but wonder how much worse it's going to get when the glut of Boomers reach immaturity.
Who knows more about current tax policies?
Professional Orange Troll Snooki, or President Barack Obama?
When the president of the United States of America insisted that he "didn't raise taxes once," you didn't have to be a Professional Washington Political Pundit to know that he was full of fake bake.
How the hell does the President of the United States of America think he can get away with a lie so obvious that a hilarious caricature of a human being sees right through it.
Pitiful.
When the president of the United States of America insisted that he "didn't raise taxes once," you didn't have to be a Professional Washington Political Pundit to know that he was full of fake bake.
How the hell does the President of the United States of America think he can get away with a lie so obvious that a hilarious caricature of a human being sees right through it.
Pitiful.
I'm so angry! Hold me back! Hold me back! ... No really, someone hold me back!
From WSJ: Obama Renews Vow To Repeal Tax Cuts For High Incomes
So guess who's got some big balls now?
Obama was so ANGRY about the tax cuts for the high earners that he just HAD to take advantage of the Democrat SUPERMAJORITY and...! ... AND...!!!
... Extend the Bush-era tax cuts.
BUT THEN!!!
The DASTARDLY Republicans LIE, CHEAT, AND STEAL their way into the House of Representatives, and now they say they're going to protect their RICH, WHITE, FAT CAT constituents!
D'oohh! IF ONLY those EVIL republicans didn't own the House!
Oh, you just BET Obama would kill those tax cuts for the richest Americans!
So be sure to vote Democrat next time so they can get a SUPERMAJORITY, and then they'll be able to pass whatever they want!
So guess who's got some big balls now?
Obama was so ANGRY about the tax cuts for the high earners that he just HAD to take advantage of the Democrat SUPERMAJORITY and...! ... AND...!!!
... Extend the Bush-era tax cuts.
BUT THEN!!!
The DASTARDLY Republicans LIE, CHEAT, AND STEAL their way into the House of Representatives, and now they say they're going to protect their RICH, WHITE, FAT CAT constituents!
D'oohh! IF ONLY those EVIL republicans didn't own the House!
Oh, you just BET Obama would kill those tax cuts for the richest Americans!
So be sure to vote Democrat next time so they can get a SUPERMAJORITY, and then they'll be able to pass whatever they want!
Tis the season for revolution
So apparently now is the time for the people to unite and overthrow their corrupt governments!
Meanwhile in Mexico, all those young full spirited Mexican nationalists are...
Here.
I understand that they have some serious problems down there with the drug cartels, but that doesn't change the fact that for every Mexican waving the red white and green up here, there's one less down there.
Meanwhile in Mexico, all those young full spirited Mexican nationalists are...
Here.
I understand that they have some serious problems down there with the drug cartels, but that doesn't change the fact that for every Mexican waving the red white and green up here, there's one less down there.
Monday, February 07, 2011
Some twitter selections
Man, you don't even know. I had charcoal ALL up in my grill.
~Me
Dreamt we were on Run's House on a trip but Run stayed at the starbucks when he found they'd serve horseshoecrabs right to his canoe. Srsly.
~Me
Oh noes! A young hippster caught corporate-looking me riding my shopping cart! It told him to get a job and pretended it didn't happen.
~Me
Excellent.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
Some things change, some things never change.
It has been a little over a month since I started my new job, and I'm starting to feel like a normal human being again.
The sleep pattern is starting to be the norm, I'm getting over this weird cold that just seemed to linger for a few weeks, the new job stress took a couple hits when I got my first customer survey back (perfect), and some guy who's supposedly awesome was impressed with my work. Things are starting to feel normal again. But not that kind of normal I had at the last place, where things were slowly sliding downhill, and you never really realize that stress until it's gone.
Real normal.
Feels damn good.
I called my old paintball buddy when I decided to go paintballing the next day. The same old paintball buddy who had grown accustomed to me turning down every offer of an outing due to me being on call or some other engagement. And I do mean every. I went so far as to explain to him that I really did want to go, and to continue inviting me, but cosmic forces seemed aligned to prevent me from going paintballing with him.
Kharmicly, he was unable to go due to a prior engagement, however he hooked me up with one of his friends who asked him if he wanted to go the same day.
We hit it off immediately, all he had to do was mention "phantom" and "machine shop" and I could tell we were going to be best friends. He and his friend are stock class players, and run phantoms, so I told him I'd bring mine and we'd make it a triple. Since it'll just be three of us, he recommended we join a walk-on and take them to school. My kind of pump players.
I hit the local shop (the only one that's left) after work, and it turned out the shop owner was there. We started talking kit, and it turned out he was on the socal paintball scene for 12 years. When he found out who I knew and what I used to do, we caught up on common friends, and the ones who were no longer with us. We talked about the scene, the drama, how some things changed, and how other things never changed.
A lot of those times are over. There are glimmers of hope, but the scene is a shadow of what it used to be. The economy is to blame as much as silly drama.
The halcyon days of southern California paintball.
It made me sad that it was gone, but I was still happy to have been a part of it. It felt strange to talk about "the good old days." I'm only 27...
But time marches on, and the oppressive cost of doing business in California, and the high insurance rates for "shooting sports" forced fields to make up their costs by requiring players buy field paint instead of bringing their own. This paint was usually low quality and high cost to maintain the necessary margin the field needed to stay in business. This made players seek lower cost forms of playing, hence an uneasy spike in pump play.
Generally pump play is the polar opposite of the "Agg Kidz" (HK kids) I fought against in the sport. It's really easy to get your aggression going with 2 grand of kit slinging four cases of paint a day. "Whoops, lit up that last guy on the bunker, and he turned out to be a scared little kid just trying out the sport. Guess he won't be back! High five!" I'm hoping the return to pump play brought a return to focus to the game style down here, but I suppose attitudes don't necessarily have to change when play style changes. But I'm hopeful, and I'm going to find out today.
Blogging should return to normal once I get this new schedule figured out, and determine where it fits in it. I used to be able to write bits and pieces at work, but that won't be the case now. I'll be back. Don't worry.
The sleep pattern is starting to be the norm, I'm getting over this weird cold that just seemed to linger for a few weeks, the new job stress took a couple hits when I got my first customer survey back (perfect), and some guy who's supposedly awesome was impressed with my work. Things are starting to feel normal again. But not that kind of normal I had at the last place, where things were slowly sliding downhill, and you never really realize that stress until it's gone.
Real normal.
Feels damn good.
I called my old paintball buddy when I decided to go paintballing the next day. The same old paintball buddy who had grown accustomed to me turning down every offer of an outing due to me being on call or some other engagement. And I do mean every. I went so far as to explain to him that I really did want to go, and to continue inviting me, but cosmic forces seemed aligned to prevent me from going paintballing with him.
Kharmicly, he was unable to go due to a prior engagement, however he hooked me up with one of his friends who asked him if he wanted to go the same day.
We hit it off immediately, all he had to do was mention "phantom" and "machine shop" and I could tell we were going to be best friends. He and his friend are stock class players, and run phantoms, so I told him I'd bring mine and we'd make it a triple. Since it'll just be three of us, he recommended we join a walk-on and take them to school. My kind of pump players.
I hit the local shop (the only one that's left) after work, and it turned out the shop owner was there. We started talking kit, and it turned out he was on the socal paintball scene for 12 years. When he found out who I knew and what I used to do, we caught up on common friends, and the ones who were no longer with us. We talked about the scene, the drama, how some things changed, and how other things never changed.
A lot of those times are over. There are glimmers of hope, but the scene is a shadow of what it used to be. The economy is to blame as much as silly drama.
The halcyon days of southern California paintball.
It made me sad that it was gone, but I was still happy to have been a part of it. It felt strange to talk about "the good old days." I'm only 27...
But time marches on, and the oppressive cost of doing business in California, and the high insurance rates for "shooting sports" forced fields to make up their costs by requiring players buy field paint instead of bringing their own. This paint was usually low quality and high cost to maintain the necessary margin the field needed to stay in business. This made players seek lower cost forms of playing, hence an uneasy spike in pump play.
Generally pump play is the polar opposite of the "Agg Kidz" (HK kids) I fought against in the sport. It's really easy to get your aggression going with 2 grand of kit slinging four cases of paint a day. "Whoops, lit up that last guy on the bunker, and he turned out to be a scared little kid just trying out the sport. Guess he won't be back! High five!" I'm hoping the return to pump play brought a return to focus to the game style down here, but I suppose attitudes don't necessarily have to change when play style changes. But I'm hopeful, and I'm going to find out today.
Blogging should return to normal once I get this new schedule figured out, and determine where it fits in it. I used to be able to write bits and pieces at work, but that won't be the case now. I'll be back. Don't worry.
Friday, February 04, 2011
Fuck "some other time!"
I was talking to a coworker about how the missus and I used to be hardcore ballers, and regaled him with all my awesome stories. Afterwards I sent him some pictures and checked out a field I've been meaning to try out for some time.
So fuck it.
I'm going paintballing tomorrow!
So fuck it.
I'm going paintballing tomorrow!
Thursday, February 03, 2011
The Bernanke who cried wolf
One of these times he's going to be telling the truth.
But no one will believe him.
The problem is, we'll get eaten alive, not him...
But no one will believe him.
The problem is, we'll get eaten alive, not him...
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I lol'd
Alternate Names for the "Repealing The Job Killing Health Care Law Act"
5) The “We’re Not Going to Grind Gramma Into An Edible but Nutritious Slurry Act”.
4) The “Sarah Was Right; There Really Are Death Panels Act”.
3) The “Dear God in Heaven, What Were We Thinking Act”.
2) The “We’re In Charge, So How Do You Like Us Now Act”.
1) The “Happy Cuddle Puppies Nuzzle Wuzzle Act”.
Brilliant.
5) The “We’re Not Going to Grind Gramma Into An Edible but Nutritious Slurry Act”.
4) The “Sarah Was Right; There Really Are Death Panels Act”.
3) The “Dear God in Heaven, What Were We Thinking Act”.
2) The “We’re In Charge, So How Do You Like Us Now Act”.
1) The “Happy Cuddle Puppies Nuzzle Wuzzle Act”.
Brilliant.
The new job is looking good
The commute is considerably shorter than I had expected, which is much appreciated.
I still haven't gotten the hang of the "regular people" schedule of 8-5, so I'm tired when I should be awake, and awake when I should be tired.
The company won a few "best place to work" awards, and it's not hard to see why. This place rocks.
The work is demanding, which beats the hell out of the alternative. So far, I've just been training, so I've spent most of my time straining to understand the complexities of a large business production software. The program is frickin' huge, and twice as complex in troubleshooting. I love a challenge.
The mental drain is worse than the physical drain, and it leaves me useless for blogging afterwards, so it might be a while before I return to a normal blogging schedule. I know you're all waiting on bated breath. :)
I still haven't gotten the hang of the "regular people" schedule of 8-5, so I'm tired when I should be awake, and awake when I should be tired.
The company won a few "best place to work" awards, and it's not hard to see why. This place rocks.
The work is demanding, which beats the hell out of the alternative. So far, I've just been training, so I've spent most of my time straining to understand the complexities of a large business production software. The program is frickin' huge, and twice as complex in troubleshooting. I love a challenge.
The mental drain is worse than the physical drain, and it leaves me useless for blogging afterwards, so it might be a while before I return to a normal blogging schedule. I know you're all waiting on bated breath. :)
Monday, January 17, 2011
A few things stand out
The congresswoman's survival is nothing short of a miracle. I wonder if that disgusting piece of trash lost his smirk after her found out she survived.
The shooting took 30 seconds and it took 10 minutes for first responders to arrive. Do the math.
Two heroes were forced to tackle this menace while he was trying to reload. It would have been safer for them and everyone else there if they had guns.
The loss of the 9 year old girl is almost beyond grief, but I have to know, do you think the father carries a gun everywhere now?
I pray that there are people out there right now taking a second look at those family members that they've been making excuses for.
And liberals, just as always, struggle to find logic in the illogical.
The nurture part of them is what keeps them from admitting there is evil in this world. Same here. It must be the music. There must be SOME explanation for why this crazy person was crazy.
You know, I can't help but wonder if libs fantasize about murdering those who disagree with them, which is why they're so violent and oppose guns (projection) and when someone goes off like this, they need an explanation for why they haven't gone off the deep end yet. Insecure. Uncertain. Scared.
and if this had happened at a rally of republicans I can't help but think the body count would have been lower
The shooting took 30 seconds and it took 10 minutes for first responders to arrive. Do the math.
Two heroes were forced to tackle this menace while he was trying to reload. It would have been safer for them and everyone else there if they had guns.
The loss of the 9 year old girl is almost beyond grief, but I have to know, do you think the father carries a gun everywhere now?
I pray that there are people out there right now taking a second look at those family members that they've been making excuses for.
And liberals, just as always, struggle to find logic in the illogical.
The nurture part of them is what keeps them from admitting there is evil in this world. Same here. It must be the music. There must be SOME explanation for why this crazy person was crazy.
You know, I can't help but wonder if libs fantasize about murdering those who disagree with them, which is why they're so violent and oppose guns (projection) and when someone goes off like this, they need an explanation for why they haven't gone off the deep end yet. Insecure. Uncertain. Scared.
and if this had happened at a rally of republicans I can't help but think the body count would have been lower
Awesome
Natalie Portman's uncensored rap (Very NSFW Audio)
1. This is awesome.
2. She looks fucking hot with that short hair.
3. Black Swan is awesome.
4. Darren Aronofsky is awesome.
5. lol snl made a funny, how quaint
6. The end.
1. This is awesome.
2. She looks fucking hot with that short hair.
3. Black Swan is awesome.
4. Darren Aronofsky is awesome.
5. lol snl made a funny, how quaint
6. The end.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
