I would most definitely be the Golden Retriever
I was talking to him yesterday after I received another package from an extremely generous reader because I got confused about who sent it.
I get anywhere from 100 to 200+ Emails a day here and it’s pretty easy for me to get things mixed up in my head.
Long story short I finally figured it out but only after I sent a Thank You to the wrong person, who says they are still sifting through stuff to send me another batch of stuff they think I might be able to use. I did manage to correct that and get a Thank You sent off to the right party.
You see, the generosity shown to me here is really and truly over whelming.
My thanks again go out to Tim for sending me an incredible collection of precision measuring tools.
I would like everyone to know that I am already using as many of these gifts as I can, they do not just get cleaned up and stuck in my tool box.
Tim’s gifts were jaw dropping.
Thank you so much.
I am not joking when I say I am already using many of the tools that people have sent to me.
One of the tools that a very generous reader sent me a little while back allowed me to figure out how much I need to take off the top of a new and extended base for my Mini Lathe Tail Stock that a buddy worked on in his spare time for several months. He left it tall knowing that I now have the ability to machine it down to the proper height.
Having that Depth Gauge allowed me to measure both pieces to figure out I need to take off .110 to allow them to fit together with just enough room for them to be able to slide across each other for tail stock off sets and centering.
It’s hard for me to articulate just how awesome it is to have the ability to open up a box and be able to use a tool for it’s original intended purpose after it has been sitting unused for years and years.
So while I am talking to Irish on the phone he makes a crack about needing a meme with Sally Struthers in it saying for just 5 tools a week, you too can help a lonely machinist.
I laughed so hard at that I almost choked.
God that was funny.
So I whipped one out telling him not to blame me, it was his idea.
We talked for a bit longer and then went our ways.
Then I wake up this morning to see Irish had struck while I was sleeping like a baby.
He sent me this.
The guy is way out of my league in every way.
As in burning up a barrel.
You know, something to get them all wound up about while I am waiting at stop lights.
My thanks to Uncle Zip and Leigh, I finally got ’round 2 it.
Oh yeah, I have a full plate today boys and girls.
I have an entire truck load of garbage and cardboard to load up and haul off. Then I have to try and get a hold of some lady clear on the other side of town so I can go take a look see at some half tore apart Step Van for a reader who is clear across the country, to see if the gas engine sitting in the back will fit as a replacement for the Diesel one that shit the bed.
Step van, think UPS or Snap On kind of rig. This gentleman is considering turning it into a Roach Coach. Apparently they go for serious Dinero where he is at.
I am hoping to take a whole bunch of pictures from a mechanic’s point of view to send to him so he has a better idea of what he is looking at.
These two tasks are going to shoot the whole day.
I got a notice in the mail here a while back informing me that my State Mandated Concealed Carry Permit was scheduled to expire in about a month or so.
Strike one, the State says I have to have a “permit” to put my pistol in my pocket if I so desire when I go out and about amongst the crazies out there.
This notice informs me that because of the Covid /lockdown stupidity that I should make sure and renew this permit AT LEAST a month before it actually expires because the local Sherrif’s office, who actually administers and approves these “permits”, is backed up until sometime beyond human reckoning and one can expect delays because of this situation.
My “permit” is scheduled to expire EXACTLY 30 days from the time of this writing so I figured I had better get on the stick and take care of this task that I consider to be an abomination and an affront to my God given right to protect myself so that the damn thing doesn’t expire before I get a new one.
As is the usual with any damn thing I try to do, this seemingly simple task turned into a mess, of course.
The first thing I did was grab the notice, clean all the shit out of my pockets in case they have a metal detector at the door and head straight to the bank to get the $32 renewal fee in cash.
Here we go.
I pulled up to the Drive Through ATM, stuck my card in it and punched in the stuff they wanted.
“Card Declined” flashing on the screen.
I know damn good and well there is money in the bank so I tried it again, and again.
“Card Declined, Please Contact Your Banking Institution”.
I’m sure you can imagine the Blue Streak wafting out of the drivers side window at this point.
Luckily, it’s a week day and the damn bank is right there.
So I whip around and pull up,park and start to head inside.
Oh hell no, gotta have a damn mask.
Go back, dig around, find some nasty looking thing in the door pocket, slap it on and head inside.
Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.
Yes there is money in the bank, by the way, did I just try and use the ATM outside?
Yeah, it’s messed up.
Gee, thanks so much FOR PUTTING A FUCKING SIGN ON THE GOD DAMN THING HONEY!
Too far to walk for ya?
Fuck it, I have been having issues with the chip on that card and since your laziness has caused me to be here now, you can just order me a new fucking card anyway sweet cheeks.
Got that shit straightened out, got followed by a cop all the way to the exit downtown after he pulled back onto the highway from having someone else pulled over and finally managed to get down town and relocate the Court House and the Sherrif’s office.
Then try to find a place to park. More hilarity but I finally found a spot that has a meter and guess what?
It isn’t taking any change so I gotta use my card…
The same one that just didn’t work.
By some miracle it did for this so I paid, went back and put the tag on my dash because I know from past experience that they have a Meter Maid dedicated to one simple task down there. Drive around handing out parking tickets if you are expired by 38 seconds or more.
That is literally all she does, drive around and around that block the Court House is on writing parking tickets.
It’s obviously a very lucrative racket and this is because every square inch of parking in the parking lot next to the joint is “Reserved Parking” so it’s a battle to find an open spot anywhere within two blocks of the joint in the first place. All those even remotely close by have parking meters.
Coming and going man, coming and going.They got that shit figured right the fuck out.
Walk around the building, see a couple guys waiting outside with paperwork. Go in, get the usual GOTTA HAVE A MASK bullshit, whip the nasty thing back out of my coat pocket, put it on and INSTANT blindness.
Fucking glasses fogged up so bad I couldn’t see the fat and ugly bastard behind the plexi glass two feet in front of me.
He starts asking me questions, I can’t even see who I am talking to and I am fumbling around getting my wallet open to get my ID and the literal scrap of paper that is all that is left of the “Permit” they issued five years ago.
Back when I first got this thing, they sent me a paper card with my name and the “permit” number on it. Since they found out that paper cards disintegrate inside wallets after a while, they now issue plastic cards with your picture on it just like a drivers license.
I blindly stick it out in front of me and he has to come around the plexi glass barrier to get it out of my hand.
Then he asks me if I have filled out the forms.
Uhm, no, I literally just walked in the door.
Dumb fucking bastard. WTF?
He takes my ID and the scrap of “permit” and takes it over to the lady in the office and then tells me I can get it back when I pay the fee. Then he tells me I gotta go back outside and wait.
No offer of any forms to fill out.
See my reaction just above and repeat it.
I wait for a few, suddenly realize that this is going to take way longer to get done than the amount of time I paid for on the meter so I tell another guy waiting that I will be right back and if the call for me I am going to put more money on the meter. Walk clear around the building again, whip out the card and put three fucking hours on the meter. Stick the receipt on the dash so the Meter Maid will move along to find another unfortunate soul to crush and head back in.
Sure as shit they have called everyone waiting inside while I was gone so I gotta go talk to the moron again. Except that one ain’t there anymore and now there is a chick.
Tell her whats going on, finally get the damn form to fill out, am told for the third time to keep my mask over my nose, sit down and wait.
Get almost done with the paperwork and here she comes wanting me to go pay. Do that, finish the paperwork and go sit down to wait. About five minutes later, some other short, fat and very ugly woman sticks her head out of some booth I hadn’t noticed and calls my name.
Go inside, take off the ball cap, glasses and mask to get my picture taken.
Then I am told that because of the back log, to not be surprised it it takes SIX TO EIGHT WEEKS to get my replacement “permit”.
And if my “permit” expires before I get the new one, do not carry concealed.
Then she tells me because this is an Open Carry state, that I can feel free to open carry if I would like.
Apparently she hasn’t seen the fifteen or so news stories that I have over the last couple of years about guys getting the cops called on them by panicked Sheeple who freaked the fuck out because said guy was walking around with a pistol on his hip.
So after all that, I am now waiting on a renewed “permit”.
My question here for anyone who wants to bite is this.
If I am supposed to have the right to bear arms free of infringement by the government, what do you call each and every step of the above process individually and especially taken all together?
Please be aware that the first fool who tries to argue that this process is “For The Common Good”, to “Think Of The Children” or that this whole thing is just “Common Sense Gun Control”, should be prepared to be interrupted mid sentence by yours truly to inform them that they are so full of shit that their breath stinks like the bottom of an outhouse at the end of a 3 day music festival, in August.
These cretins could fuck up a cast iron anvil with a rubber mallet.
I assume that’s the “New And Improved” Mr. Potato Head there on the right?
I weep for the future generations of kids in this country.
They are going to be more fucked up than a soup sandwich.
Already are, actually.
It’s just going to get worse.