Sep 05

Guns, Guns, Guns

Sorry about being all serious and shit, but here’s another hot topic that’s been bugging the hell out of me for years. It comes with its own vague, seemingly inaccurate info-poster type of thing, and a veritable trove of real information, theory, and emotions that are meant to sway you to my way of thinking.

It jammed a lot, if you were using cheap rounds.

It jams a lot if you use cheap rounds.

Before we get going, I want to say that I am a gun owner. I hunt, shoot skeet, and target shoot. I love guns, and I truly enjoy going out to a gravel pit with Jake and Daryl to blow off a few boxes of shells. I also love heading for the woods with the Larries to maybe get a few grouse for the freezer. I haven’t done either in a few years, but I really do enjoy it.

Okay, now for the probably wrong meme. I guess I can’t say it’s wrong, but it sure isn’t from this year.

My friend JC wrote and drew up a great post on the subject, after Sandy Hook, and it got me thinking a lot about it. I wonder exactly where I do stand on the issue. I like hunting, and I own guns. I say that as long as you’re a responsible gun owner, hunter or marksman, it should be perfectly fine to own a hunting rifle or a shotgun, because you safely store them, locked up tight like the law says you have to. You are also an ethical person, and would never use those guns to harm a human being, so why shouldn’t you enjoy them?

Paul's was in a nice, wooden, velvet-lined box

Paul’s was in a nice, wooden, velvet-lined box

Growing up, my stepdad, had a pistol. It was a Peacemaker replica .22. We would use it to shoot rabbits in the live trap by the garden as it wasn’t as noticeable as a rifle. This was back before gun safes were necessary, so putting it in a locked box in your closet was acceptable.

I was fairly perceptive, so I knew where the keys were for it, and the other guns. I never unlocked them without permission, because we were taught from an early age that guns were tools, not toys.

When Paul died, he left me his .270 semi-auto. It’s a great rifle, and I might use it one of these days. I might not though, because it’s in Ontario and I haven’t renewed my possession and acquisition license in years. I don’t deer hunt anymore, but I guess I’d take the rifle in case I see an elk. They are very yummy.

My dad gave me my Wingmaster 12 gauge for Christmas when I was 15. It is the most perfect gun that I’ve ever fired. The stock was cut down, and fits my stubby arms to a T. I got my Cooey .22 from Paul when I was 16, and Larry sanded down the stock for me. It was made in Cobourg, at the Cooey factory where my Great-Grandfather worked, so it has a great deal of meaning.

So perfect for me, and never misfires. Knock on wood.

So perfect for me, and never misfires. Knock on wood.

I also have an RCMP Centennial model 30-30 that my mom bought for me when she worked at Winchester. I couldn’t have been very old. It’s shiny with brass all over and it’s never been fired. It’s beautiful. They all are.

To me, anyhow.

Maybe a little flashy for hunting, but still a nice rifle. Model 94 is the best selling rifle of all time, I believe.

Maybe a little flashy for hunting, but still a nice rifle. Model 94 is one the best selling rifles of all time.

The problem is that not everyone is responsible, and just because you passed a course that’s designed for you to not fail (or was when I took it 30 years ago), doesn’t mean that you are safe to own or handle guns. Accidents happen, maybe you go for a drive and blow a hole through the floor of your company truck(true story), or maybe your kid finds the keys to your gun safe, and decides that now’s the time to exact revenge for the world treating him like a piece of goat shit since he got caught pulling his pud in the school washroom.

There are far too many possible scenarios that can go wrong here. Even if you are a super-safe, top-notch firearm owner, there is always a chance that someone will get a hold of your guns and use them negligently, or for a crime.

The long and short of it is that my guns mean a lot more to me than just a killing tool. Every time I clean them, hold them, shoot them, or just talk about them, I think about Mom, Paul, or Dad. They are all good memories because nothing bad ever happened to me.

It’s also true that I don’t need my guns. If I want to hunt I can use my bow. I think that muzzleloaders or single shot rifles and shotguns would be okay too for the folks that feed their families with wild meat because you get the range or the spread that you need, but you’d spend so much time reloading, that it wouldn’t really be very effective for a shooting spree. Semi-autos and other high magazined rifles and shotguns are great, but I really don’t see a need for the average person owning them, along with handguns.

Well, I think trappers and guides should be able to carry a handgun in the bush, at least where there is the danger of getting attacked by bears. Then again, maybe they shouldn’t get to have such an advantage. After all, they are the ones that are out there battling nature. Maybe nature should have a fighting chance.

I do see that they can turn a mentally ill person into quite an efficient killing machine though, so I don’t think that they should be available for the public to buy.

The fact is that it doesn’t matter what way I lean, or whether the government revokes the right to bear arms. If someone wants to kill a shitload of people at once, they will find a way to do it. If they can’t get guns, maybe they’ll use homemade explosives. They’ll do something because they’re sick. This isn’t a whimsical thought that just happens into their head for a second. They have time to think while they are going through the planning and execution stages. You don’t just wind up at a school or a theatre with a bunch of guns and say, “Fuck it. I’m here. I have the artillery. Might as well kill some motherfuckers.”

Or maybe you do. I really don’t know, and I hope I never find out.

Speaking of explosives. Why aren’t people up in arms that they can’t just go buy claymores or grenades? In general, folks don’t seem to mind that, but they sure take offence/defence to someone wanting to take away their automatic rifle with the 50 shot clip.

Run, take the money, here’s a bullet for your boyfriend, guns, guns, guns,

Aug 27

Just Swear And Blaspheme Already, For The Love Of Fucking Christ

Crap, darn, frick, frig, jeepers creepers, goldangit, jeez

So, I know and like a lot of religious people. Doesn’t make me a bad person. One of the things I see a lot is that most of them swear like that.

As if it makes them a better person in the eyes of their lord.

Alright, now let’s say that the bible is correct, God does exist, and he is all powerful and all knowing, just like you all think he is. Do you think you’re fooling him by saying “gosh darn it”?

No God damn way. He knows exactly what you mean.

How about jeepers creepers or jeez?

Nope, Jesus knows that you mean him, and worse yet, so does his dad. His dad gets pissed off real easy too. Don’t think that having a child has chilled that angry, old man out. He may have toned it down a bit for the New Testament, but believe you me, he’s still got a mean streak, and it gets worse when he’s drinking.

Sinners!!!

Yes, God and Jesus both know you are taking their names in vain, and they are even angrier with you for trying to fool them.

Think of it like high school; a bully is talking to you and you are telling them how much you like them and how cool they are, but really you think they are an asshole.

You know what happens next? Oh yeah, you do.

You go to a party, drink half a bottle of rye, and start talking about how you’d kick the living piss out of that big bitch. You might even add in that you already did hang a licking on them a few years back, and they are still scared of you.

Oh yeah, you’re the big man/woman on campus now, with everyone crowding around asking for your autograph and shit, and that’s when it hits you. A massive fist, followed by several more, and as you start getting closer to the ground, the feet begin their frenzied Riverdance all over your head, torso and occasionally your tender bits.

This is exactly what is going to happen to you when God and his posse get a hold of you, except it will be the Devil laying the beating on your ass.

There is a silver lining

Luckily for me, I don’t believe in God, so I’m safe and free to live my life without fear of persecution from a higher power. I can blaspheme all day long if I want to, and I sometimes do.

Jesus H Christ, I hope I’m right about the God not existing thing or it’s gonna be a hot old afterlife for this hombre. Just in case I am incorrect in my assumption, I’d like to get all of the Christians to pray for me and my soul. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to end up in Hell, but I’d like to get a cushier job and maybe some perks, like A/C or maybe a sweet log cabin by a lake for my holidays.

As for the swearing part, you should just swear. Why would you want to “diet cuss”? The words mean the exact same thing.

Well, except for “frig”. I have yet to hear someone say “I took her home and frigged the crap out of her.”. It just sounds wrong.

I’m not saying that nobody says it, I just haven’t heard it, and I’ve met a lot of people that take women home.

Why is “shit” any different than “crap”?

It’s not, and never will be. They can both mean feces, trouble, or bad. Why is shit wrong to say around some people then? I don’t know either, but it is. Just ask my old Sunday School teacher.

Also, should we be checking our language when we are around the gentle people?

I’m guilty of it but with me, it’s a respect thing. If I know that someone doesn’t swear, I try not to swear around them.

I just don’t like making people feel uncomfortable. I would, however, like to raise everyone else’s comfort level up to mine, just so I can be myself around them. I have a foul mouth, and no matter how I try to word things, they always mean the same thing in the end. What’s the point of mincing words, when you can say it all with a really good cuss? Another thing I like to do is to emphasize the curse words when I use them. I think it makes me funnier and scarier.

I think we all can agree that I could stand to be both.

In conclusion, my brothers and sisters: Go forth on your journey of enlightenment, and attend any church on Sunday. While you are there, make sure to say in a moderately loud voice,“I’m not taking any more of your God damn bullshit, Jesus, so you can go to Hell.”, and feel a great weight lift off of your shoulders.

I’m just kidding. If you are in church, you should just whisper that shit. It’s quite rude to speak out of turn there. When you are done at church, head over to an AA meeting and enjoy some cookies and grape drink. Oh, and say hi to Abe for me. I miss that drunken, old prick.

P.S. @profanereviews is not responsible for any smitings (or is it smotings?), beatings or rapes by religious zealots, or any other harm that may befall you in the event that somebody can’t take a fucking joke.

Aug 12

The Rescues – Blue

In case you were going to skip by this post, we wanted you to know that all SBD raised in the post will go to @tarc which is managed by @rhondak. Also, any SP and Steem will be converted to SBI shares in @tarc’s name. 

With the prices down so low, they need our help more than ever, so if you can’t help out with a donation, maybe put @tarc on autovote and share a post or two with your friends. 

He’s a good, climbing boy

Before you watch the video, there is something that we were going to say, but got sidetracked. I was told that I could get a dog, but it had to be after the wedding and it had to be a smart, non-shedding dog.

Over a month before the wedding, Gerri called me to the computer and showed me a photo of Blue and asked if that was a good dog. She thought he looked so nice and handsome.

I told her that I had been around a lot of hounds over my life, and they were all very friendly, loving dogs, but they were not known for their obedience or their non-shedding ability. I said that they were smart, but generally just when it came to hunting or escaping.

She then said that it would be okay to at least go and meet him, so we called and arranged to go meet him. It was an hour long drive and he had been neutered the day before, so as soon as they let him into the yard to meet us, he ran right by, had a shit against the wall, and then tried to find a hole in the fence.

Obviously he was a perfect match for us!

Okay, now on to the video.

Thanks for checking out this post and feel free to leave a comment, especially if you can share a pic and/or story of your rescue. We love those.

Aug 01

Therapy Thursday S01-E05

This is the second, and far crazier, episode this week. When we say episode, we mean it in a few different senses. You can be the judge of what we mean after you read @snook’s post/letter.

We can’t get into more detail, but suffice it to say, things get a little loopy.

 

Aug 01

Therapy Thursday S01-E04

We have to space these out because we got two videos this week.

Yeah, I know. Pretty impressive. We’re fucking popular now.

This post is going up when it turns Thursday in Samoa, and the second one will go up hours later, but I think we’re going to have to rename this to something a little more any day friendly.

This one came from @davemccoy and was in the form of a post. You can find it here. Letter To Help Save My Friend From Steem Monster Addiction

You should probably have a look at the post before watching the video

Stay tuned for the soon to come second post. It’s a doozy!