This was this young lady’s first time out with the AR. Looks like she’s got the hang of it. This was her reward for finishing the school year with Straight A’s. The Evylrobot and I were thrilled to help make this happen. She’s got a great future ahead of her, and we’re proud to be a small part of it.
I thought I’d take the opportunity to break out an oldie from back in 2010. Reposted in full. It’s my content, I can do what I want 😉
So a few of the gun bloggers decided to re-write some holiday classics. And I decided to sing them.
Oh yes I did. Remember, I’m a professional.
And finally, Jay’s 12 Days of Gunnie Christmas.
Yep, I skipped day 6 altogether and then totally flubbed 12. 3rd take. Sorry, I wasn’t doing it again. That one is freaking long!
Hmm, I’ve got better recording equipment now. Maybe I should revisit these.
Go visit Squeaky for The Fun Show song. You know what it takes to be a well-trained vocalist? A lot of work, dedication, and madness. Probably an extra helping or two of madness. How many of you had teachers reach out and press on your diaphragm? Or hand you a chalk board to carry around to communicate because they’ve put you on a week of vocal rest (no talking at all)? And don’t even get me started on vocal drills and warm-ups*.
Yeah, I know exactly how hard Squeaky worked to be the vocalist she is, and she did this as a gift for a friend. To have someone rip off her labor of love is unforgivable. And not only hers, but Tam’s words and Ambulance Driver’s work. Not that I’ve ever sent any traffic to the site which will not be named, but I ask that you spread the word and starve them of attention.
And don’t forget, Dan Zimmerman. Intellectual Property Thief. Dead Hooker Magazine.
*Just try saying “One black bug bled black bug blood; the other black bug bled blue,” repeatedly. Get faster each time. One of my voice teachers had me sing it.
You remember all that talk about guns being great equalizers? You know, that thing that makes it possible for a 110-pound woman to stand up to a 300-pound rapist?
All that effort to encourage your wives and daughters in the shooting sports? All the talk about how we’re all equal on the firing line?
Congratulations. You just told all those women that they still don’t measure up. Because obviously all knowledge about firearms is housed in a set of testicles.
Hur. Hur. Hur.
Obviously ignorance makes one worthless. You know, like a girl. How dreadful.
Way to go. Good job in showing your daughters, girlfriends, wives just how strong, intelligent, and capable you really believe us all to be.
I’m going to quote myself in full with only minor changes because it still applies
Gun Control, Because It Feels Like Doing Something
No one wants to feel powerless, helpless, hopeless. We are all so horrified by the events in
CTOR that we’re devouring information and trying to answer the question of why. We just can’t accept that we just don’t know.
We don’t know why the shooter succumbed to the darkness. Why he targeted innocent
children.people. All we know is that he did. And it hurts. It shakes us to our very core. We don’t want to acknowledge that the darkness lurks in everyone. We want to push it to some outside force. He can’t be like us. Surely my darkness couldn’t ever look like that.
It must be the video games, the mental health issues, the loneliness, the gun. Right? Please let it be something definable. Something we can tie to the stake in the funeral pyre. Anything other than the evil that lurks in the hearts of men. No. Something must be done! We must have a culprit at which to direct our pain, our confusion, our sorrow, our rage.
For the children.
Guns are the easy scapegoat for the simple-minded. Never mind the fact that not one single gun restriction has ever reduced violence. Never mind the fact that as gun ownership has increased, violent crime has decreased. Yes, I know. Correlation does not equal causation, but causation requires correlation. Therefore, the claim that more guns cause more crime is demonstrably false.
But history, logic, and facts have no place in an emotional argument.We must Do Something. It doesn’t really matter whether or not it’s the right something. It doesn’t matter whether or not the something saves a single life. It doesn’t even matter if we’ve tried it before only to fail. It must be done, and it must be done now. Now, so we can stop staring into the evil. The something must distract us from the darkness. The darkness hurts. It’s frightening. The something feels better, warmer, brighter.
And it continues to leave our children defenseless. Not just our children, but us as well. I have never committed an act of violence, and yet the something would confiscate much of my property and leave me with only harsh words to fend off the rapist twice my size that is overwhelmed by his darkness. I’m a well-trained vocalist with a lot of voice, but I’d rather have a proven equalizer for that battle.
I reject the something. Even if it means I must stare into the darkness with no security blanket. I accept the fact that human beings are capable of unspeakable evil, and that we must each chose for ourselves whether or not we embrace our own darkness. I acknowledge that most chose to keep their demons at bay. For those that do not, we need more than harsh words, empty platitudes, and regulations to protect ourselves and those we care about. My gun is no security blanket. It is not a talisman warding off evil. It is a tool. It is the tool with the best track record of putting an end to the evil actions of others.
I don’t want to feel like your children and mine are safe. I want them to be safe.
Miguel over at Gun Free Zone has some points we should consider in the aftermath of the failed terrorist attack in Texas.
Funny as hell, but also wise: We have several innings to go and they will come back to the plate. We cannot expect they will remain dumb all the time.
Their next target will be researched ahead of time, scouted to look for security and planned to create the biggest amount of killing. If they happen to get a couple of lone wolf idjits with some brain matter, the only thing they have to do is research mass shooters to get ideas.
Go read the whole thing over there.
I agree that this will not be the last incident, and the next one could happen in your backyard. Or at least in your neighborhood or church. There is not a law on the planet that would have stopped these guys.
And before anyone says anything along the lines of, “It would never have happened if they hadn’t held that event,” don’t. Unless you also want to explain to me what horribly offensive picture these 21 Christians drew that deserved beheading them over. Was the event rude and insensitive? Damn straight. At least for now, we’re still free to be rude and insensitive. But do not be deceived, your very existence offends these people. Or at least mine as a Christian woman who dares speak out of turn does.
Ok, don’t release the hounds. Give them head scratches and treats.
We’re about to launch headfirst into crazy season around our place. In a few short days, we’re going to head down to the airport and bring home a houseguest. A Bonnie houseguest. Yes, this Bonnie. Squeee!
So, I cleaned the bathroom. Nope, not sharing any before pics.
And we added a new to us medicine cabinet. It seems downright civilized in there.
The rest of the house? Well, let’s just call that a work in progress.
Bonnie is coming to visit for Super! Bitcon. Oh yeah, we’re getting our game on. That’s right friends, we’re crossing the streams. Gun blogging and game blogging. The world may not survive. If you’re local, you should come out to the big event. I made a thing. It could be yours.
Then Easter, then NRA, and a host of things to get done in between. So the house is not likely to see a lot more progress for a bit.
But hey! The bathroom is clean.
But not from me.
As for the fear, I will face that head on. I will not allow the victim mentality to win.
You see, living in fear is a choice. You can choose to tremble in the dark, or you can choose to face it head on. Also, making the decision to equip yourself with a lethal weapon does not come from a place of hate. Sometimes you even pray for the bad guys. Go read the whole thing.
The title of this post comes from a story a friend shared on Facebook. It’s an excellent reminder, and I have gotten her permission to share her story here. Please, read it all.
I’m sure most woman who have a CHL constantly struggle with how they are going to carry.
Today I chose my skinny jeans over my firearm.
Little did I know it was the day that I’d be saying to myself in a dead sweat “is this how I’m going to die?” with visions of me huddled behind my engine block of my car.
This morning when I got dressed I had that conversation with myself of what to wear and did I want to be frumpy or feel good?
My favorite jeans were clean so I chose the feel good about my fashion option which meant no room for a firearm.
Don’t get me wrong I have every which way to carry. Waist holster, back holster, underwear holster, bra holster, and purse holster but none of them I have ever liked so they sit in a drawer waiting for me to give them another chance.
Today I spent most of my day at my home which sets almost 300 yards from the road. My driveway is a long rocks little road. I live next to the Lone Star Gun Range which I own. Richard had been at the barn rewiring a tractor and had just come home looking very tired and in need of a shower.
At that time we see a red car drive down the driveway and we expect that they are headed to the range and made a wrong turn. We see them turn a round and then stop halfway down the driveway. A man and woman get out and looked like they were inspecting their small 4 door car. We assumed that they had a flat. The car doors were open along with the trunk.
Richard is cleaning up from his dirty day and I let him know I’m going to the car to see if they need anything.
I take the Tahoe the 150 yards down the muddy driveway to assist.
I stop the car and get out and I immediately notice the woman (maybe in her 20’s) is standing in from of the car and she notices me but just looks down and never diverting her eyes from the man she is with who is on the ground looking at his bumper he looks to be in his 20’s. I ask ” can I help you” he responds is a very angry amped up voice “I NEED A PHILLIPS” because of how angry he was I was thrown off and I said said “excuse me, what can I help you with” I NEED A PHILLIPS” he was so angry. I responded with “let me go get my husband” and slowly started backing away. I immediately realized that I just walked up on a person that was red hot angry over his bumper jarring loose that I didn’t need to be there.
Two steps or so into my backing away he stands up and says “and you call the FING POLICE NOW” at that point he’s walking towards me beside his car and lifts up his shirt and exposes a holstered pistol. He started doing that chest pumping sign for come at me. I had parked my car 15 yards away from his car. At that point I see the woman run from the hood of the car to the front seat of the car and slam her door shut. She knew there was about something to go down.
He kept walking towards me daring me with his chest pumping stuff.
I never turned my back and I had never run backwards that fast in my life. I got to the car and he started walking towards me. I had my phone called 911 and got the car started at the same time. The call dropped. At that moment I got my car in reverse I looked up and in his eyes and I knew he was in a zone that no one in their right mind would be in over a bumper on a car.
Driving as fast I could in reverse I was able to get Richard on the phone and told him to call police.
I got upstairs and waited the 20 minutes that this man and his girl stayed on my driveway pumping his chest at my house daring up to come out.
I called the range and told them if a red car drives up to shut the door and lock it.
Before the sheriffs officers get there the angry chest pumping man drives to the range and wants to come in the locked door.
At that point the officers show up and he gives them some excuse that his car was immobilized on my property and he told me to call the cops because he needed help with his car (for a loose bumper).
I not going to get into on the response from there because I am truly disappointed that I was never questioned on my side of the story until I insisted that I tell my side AND I had to insist that he be removed from my place of business. This is something that I am seeking answers on now.
This person who decided to show up on MY property and threaten me taught me a couple huge lessons.
1. There are people in this world that get so angry over things they can’t control like their cars bumper jarring loose.
2. There are actually men that care more about that anger and their car than the living breathing girl sitting beside him that she was scared enough to practically launch herself in that car. Let alone the lady that drives up offering to help. I would almost bet he’s taking that anger out on her right now.
3. Plain and simple be prepared at all times to defend yourself. Don’t choose skinny jeans over your tools
4. Trust you instincts. I should have noticed when I drove up that the girl wouldn’t look at me. Because I WANT to believe that this world is a safe place does not make it one.
Being a mother I don’t want to believe that it could end like this. I’m not coming to that conclusion because I’m sheltered. I know all too well that your time on this earth can be cut short early. As I was driving backwards toward my house all I could think of was that my child was about to loose the only surviving biological parent she has left.
I know that as people read this that will say she got away without a gun. It’s true yes I did but I feel that If I didn’t literally back out when I did I would have been shot. If I had told him to just leave my property it probably would have sent him over the edge.
I sure that some people will say she would be the first person to understand that she needs to carry at all times and I walked into a sticky situation. I admit, it was dumb. But it didn’t feel dumb until I got there.
I was just trying to help the guy out so we could get to dinner later that night.
Tomorrow I wear my fat jeans and my 1911.
I confess, sometimes I get complacent and comfortable. Sometimes I forget that although most people mean well and only a few wish to harm. There are those few.