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| Eight people were shot at a Southern California apartment complex pool Sunday and the gunman was killed by police, authorities said.
San Diego Police Chief Shelley Zimmerman said several of the victims were in critical conditions at various hospitals in the area. Zimmerman described the shooter as a white male who was wearing brown shorts, but she did not have any information about a the motive. |
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Hey all... Was just curious who all watches Vice on HBO (also can be found on YouTube for free)? If you don't... Check it out. Old school .. ...[unable to retrieve full-text content]
I said what the hay and bought a Mossberg Shockwave. I will test it out next Saturday. No real need, but I wanted something different.Snippet: Since the 1950s, a local power company had leased little plots of land it owned to 155 locals for a few hundred bucks a year so they could build cabins along the Ontonagon River. Then, in 1992, the federal government acquired the land, and said the owners had to move their cabins or abandon them after their final 25-year leases expired.
Opinion: Sad yes, would I prefer a different ending to the story? Yes again. Does my logical side wonder why the people invested and built on land they didn't own and thought that things would never change? Yes again.
The NFS is an agency (and not the only one) that sees people as the problem rather than appreciating that it is the taxpayers hand that feeds it. This federal attitude needs to change.
rant over.
I was in Mabank on Cedar Creek Lake, in what I can best describe as a hurricane. I left for home today, but they still have no power.
When the electricity went out, I grabbed the car bag, which came in handy. But I realized something. I've always figgered that with my fire building supplies, I'd always have fire. Not so. Doesn't work when the air is solid liquid.
The house is all electric, and we just wanted some coffee or tea. I carry my little Coleman burner in the winter, but I ditch the propane when summer comes. I'd like an independent cooking source for when the outdoors is undesirable, and you have shelter.
Any ideas of a fuel to keep in the car bag when temps can reach 180*? Not interested in high-temp candle wax, it's safe, but it doesn't get hot enough.
Suggestions?
This is making it hard for us to buy land when 5-10 acre lots sell anywhere from 30000 to 40000. As much as we want out of our rental, i refuse to pay that much for land. Even if I wanted to we don't have the money for down payment on something like that.
Only one lot has come open that fits what we want and it was gone within a week.
I don't know what to do, we can't afford to buy a house and we don't want a mortgage. We also can't seem to find any land at a decent value. Guess we will rent untill the market crashes again...
Duterte is known for taking a very tough stand against drug dealers and criminality in his country. Including extra-judicial executions.
However it appears that Duterte has strong support from the Philippine electorate for his tough stance.
But the New York times is not amused. Accusing Trump of "affinity for strongmen".
If you read the "news report", it's more of an editorial, rather than unbiased journalism.
This anti-Trump bias of this rag is so blatant. They hardly attempt to hide it.
They quote one liberal advocate, who is having kittens over Trump's meeting:
“By essentially endorsing Duterte’s murderous war on drugs, Trump is now morally complicit in future killings,” said John Sifton, the Asia director of Human Rights Watch. “Although the traits of his personality likely make it impossible, Trump should be ashamed of himself.”
Thoughts? Opinions?
Bushmaster Tactical Commando Knife OpinionsA good friend of mine had some sort of mix-up in shipping and was given a second knife free (or otherwise is lying to me so he has an excuse to send me something) and has decided that with my birthday being next week I am going to be receiving his extra Bushmaster Tactical Commando Knife. I appreciate the thought all the same. Being a novice when it comes to knives, I'd like to see what folks around here think of this particular blade. I've heard from others that it will likely require sharpening immediately and that the rounded tip is not something a lot of experts like, but I value the opinion of y'all far more than random internet reviews.
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when you travel do you bring any firearms with you? How many if so and what caliber? What do you pack them in? I'm thinking about putting a... |
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Anyone else just love this gun for the money? With a price point between $200 and $250 I just love them. We have adopted 4 now and they have all...Question is when you do a private party sale of say a black rifle; Is a rifle in new condition more valuable once its off the government list. I would be selling to a private party who is a law abiding citizen with no criminal record. The rifle is in new condition. Would the rifle be worth more or less than when I purchased it due to being off the record. Not wanting to make a killing, I just want to break even.
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For my practice bugout marches I carry a few sardine tins, dehydrated rice, salt/pepper mix, and lentils.
Dehydrated or minute rice needs no cooking. Water and rice in a ziploc bag fully rehydrates in a half hour for carb energy.
Sardines need no effort and have high protein and long lasting fats energy.
Both can be eaten while walking. And while I'm walking I pluck roadside forage weeds I've learned about and stuff then in a ziploc for later.
I stop once a day to filter replacement water and boil up some lentils in 30 minutes or so. Add my forage weeds and my seasoning.
Is it tasty fare? Not really. But it's powerhouse nutrition that covers all my dietary needs. And it is a very lightweight meal system. I'll eat regular cooking when I get where I'm going and if this diet is dull then it only makes me push on faster to my destination.
Mind you, when I go recreational camping or hunting or fishing I eat like a king. No need for those bars or trail mixes either because I'm not packing light. I might be using my truck for my pack.
The problem with that doorknob:
1. It's installed the wrong way. The locking mechanism is facing in the opposite direction meaning it's hard to close the door, whereas once closed it can be pushed open quite easily.
2. The mechanism appears old/corroded/worn and does not turn easily.
3. The door itself appears to be somewhat damaged.
I want to get and installed the cheapest door handle possible as this is a rented place. I think I'm going to use a hot glue gun to set the mechanism in the door to give it more "mass" and fill in the broken/worn hole where the current mechanism is.
I had this in mind: http://ift.tt/2qkt73p
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If the original controller plug has the large and small small prongs, you should hook it up the same way as the original.
Please make thread titles that indicate what the thread is about.
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Folks, when starting a thread, please take a moment and consider which forum that thread belongs in. Disaster Preparedness is for disaster preparedness discussions only. There are forums for gun posts, news, politics, general discussion, etc. Please try to start threads in the right forum. This makes the site better for all of us. Thanks.
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I see this as a war between generations. The younger generation Vs the older generation. The younger generation was raised in the social media environment and they may be beginning to use their knowledge to their advantage. hey can communicate quickly and to a large number through social media and thus it is easier for them to organize. They can share their liberal ideas among so many others in an instant. I shudder to think that because they are young and energetic, they will organize to get their liberal agenda passed. They will be around for a long time to come where the older generation is going to be losing members. Their indocrination has been going on since kindergarten.
If they indeed do what is said in the article, it would be hard to stop them from taking over in several years.they referred this movement as similar to the civil rights movement or the Vietnam movement back in the 70's. I remember vividly the Vietnam protesters closing down my college. had nightmares last nigh about this. These are not the hired violent protesters that we are used to seeing but an insidious movement planning to start turning things around from the ground up.
"We can prevent homophobia, discrimination and prejudice developing if we catch it early enough. This is why it’s vital to start educating children at primary and junior age, teaching them about equality and diversity, and introducing equality lessons which cover LGBT+ themes in an age appropriate way. We must teach new generations to respect one another, regardless of preferred identity or orientation."
Just joined and looking to gather useful info for being prepared for the unexpected. I have read a few books and have a friend who is a prepper, need to improve my skills and resources for my family.
Any advice is appreciated.
A little bit about me - raised and live in the burbs, but I enjoy the outdoors and feel comfortable camping, fishing, and hunting. need some help with other parts of out door survival.
I also work on my "home" stash when i can.
thanks for reading and again, open to anything reading or otherwise that may help.
tsjn727
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I have researched sugar cane and came to the conclusion that it probably wouldnt do well here. Sorghum on the other hand readily grows here and farther north as well.
The seed company "Sow True Seeds" is located in Ashville NC, and they source a lot of seeds right here in NC. Including Sorghum. The variety they have is called "Sugar Drip".
Been considering giving it a try.
Yellow Tomatoes need respect.I've been growing yellow tomatoes, the large ones, for a few years and I can't believe more people do not give them a chance. They are the best. Both my neighbor and I grow half our tomato crop in Yellows. The taste is fantastic. Give them a try. You will like it.
I know its kinda vague question,just something I stare at when I go out for my coffee and cig.
I also see shooting stars most nights since I moved here,don't remember seeing many in other states I lived in.
I need 5 volunteers, i'm gonna be selling plastic bottle cutters online. I would like for the first 5 folks to try the Plastic Bottle Cutters out for about a week then give me your "honest" feedback. I will pay for shipping and all cost.
Try it, keep it, and then come back and reply on this post and tell me if you think the plastic bottle rope cutter would be something you would use when S.H.T.F.
Thinking that the Plastic Bottle Rope Cutter would be great for preppers and campers. The plastic rope is very strong and lightweight.
examples:
1- tent straps
2- hammocks
3- fishing string
4- cloths line
5- fishing net
VIDEO: https://youtu.be/C_J57P7eVl8
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I don't particularly like that style of carry. I like the idea of the blade tho.
I'd be interested in any thoughts, pro or con for Push knives/daggers.
Please spare me the legal issues.
I'm no knife fighting expert, but this blade appears to be very simple to use in a self defense situation. May be a good choice for family members.
Your input is appreciated. Thanks in advance
He noticed that his father was already moving out, the other four members of the scouting party following close behind. Jake jogged to catch up, eyes squinting as the sun shone on him, much brighter than the artificial lighting he was accustomed to. He paid no mind to the rifle slapping his leg until his father gave him a stern look.
“Take care of the rifle. They weren't made yesterday.” He sternly ordered, and Jake listened, obediently grabbing the rifle and holding it as if ready to shoot. The sleek machines were probably state of the art – ten years ago. Despite that, Jake felt slightly uneasy. Even though the marauders would undoubtedly be armed worse, who knows what the savages could do.
His hands clenched around the gun as he looked around. He wasn't sure how much of it was time, or the tornado that ripped through, but the city their shelter had been built in the center of was flattened. Rubble and building debris littered the ground. Luckily, that meant their vision was almost unhindered, except for one or two chunks of rubble that one could hide behind.
His father's booming voice caused him to jump “This is the scouting party of the Aegis. Show yourselves.” After a few tense moments, he saw a woman stand up from one of the large pieces of rubble. Immediately, he pegged her as one of the savages. She had a bow slung over one shoulder, and a pistol at her hip. Her tank top was stained and had more than a few holes. Her shorts were barely decent.
Her outfit culminated with a pair of sturdy boots and a black cowboy hat, complete with stampede string. She walked up with a confident swagger, drawing most attention to her. And away from the girl that trailed behind. The lead woman barely flinched as a gun went off, hitting the ground near her feet, though the other girl hid behind her and Jake's father turned to yell at the man.
“I was beginning to think that them rumors weren't true.” She drawled, gaining his father's attention once more, both with her words and with how unconcerned she was “What rumors?” he asked warily, and the girl shrugged her tanned shoulders “That there were shelters under the cities. Big ones, more organized. Most others came up already.”
His father frowned, offering a hand to shake “Name's Alan.” He told her, and she inclined her head slightly “M'names Bree. This is Allie.” She jerked her head to the girl following her, who shrunk behind her again. “She hasn't been around people much.” Bree explained, brushing a comforting hand over the girl's shoulder.
Jake frowned, thinking that she made the girl sound an awful lot like a dog. She didn't have the presence of her companion, but that didn't make her any lesser. “We weren't sure if things were safe.” Alan elaborated, making Bree snort “Things never were safe. You could go out after a couple months though.” Jake began to wonder how much education the girl had; surely she didn't think it dissipated after just that long, did she?
“Just because the radiation didn't kill you outright doesn't mean it didn't still linger.” Alan told her, making the girl shrug “True, but give me a choice between starving and braving some radiation, and I know which one I'll choose.” Something in the way she said it made it obvious it wasn't a hypothetical question.
“I'd lay low if I was you though. Some rumors said that it was your people that caused this.” She told them, before turning to leave, barely touching the girl behind her to get her to move as well. Again, treating the other girl like a dog. Before he could say anything – not that he had anything in mind – a arrow came out of nowhere, hitting one of the scouting party in the leg.
Immediately, Bree pulled Ally in front of her, as she turned to shield her. With her opposite hand, she drew her gun, firing off a round towards the archer.It was off target, more to prevent return fire than to score a blow. She righted her aim and was about to squeeze off another round, one that would draw more than a bit of blood if she hit her mark.
“Stand down Bree!” someone called, and she relaxed her hand, letting her gun drop “Our fight isn't with you; it's with them!” the person continued, and Bree took a deep breath before responding “Cut 'em some slack, Brandon! It's their first time out!” There was a tense pause, before Brandon barked “Leave Bree.” The girl looked to Alan and shrugged “He'll at least speak to you now.” With that, she turned to leave.
Jake was nearest the hit man, and he watched in horror as the man staggered before dropping to his knees, one hand clasped over the leg where he was hit. “Send forward an ambassador!” Brandon barked, and Alan strode forward with no hesitation, trusting his team to handle the wounded.
Bree barely cast a backwards glance as they quickly moved out. “Think they'll be all right?” Allie asked, biting her lip in worry. Bree made a dismissive noise “Yeah. Brandon won't kill them. Might try his darnedest to swindle them, but won't kill.” She noticed that Bree wasn't leading her back towards her shelter, and thought about speaking up “We can crash at my place for a bit. Make sure they aren't following.” Bree told her, before she spoke. Allie worried her lip again, tasting blood “My parents will worry.” she argued, making Bree shrug “Not as much as if we led paramilitants to their door.”
In all honestly, a large part of her was also excited to see Bree's place. The older girl had put off showing her for ages, it seemed like. Or maybe there just wasn't any good times for her to show off. Whichever it was, this would be the first time she would see it, despite knowing each other for the better part of four years. Though she was fairly sure the first two didn't count. Bree started up a hill, moving unerringly towards her dwelling of ten years. “Here we are.” she stated, gesturing to roughly elliptical opening. It looked narrow, and Bree pushing the vines out of the way did little to make it seem bigger.
Ally looked to Bree hesitantly, who smiled encouragingly at her “It's bigger on the inside.” she assured her, tugging gently on her arm. Ally took a deep breath before following her in. Watch your step. It's a little slick.” Bree warned, letting Ally grab onto her arm as they slowly went down the inclined tunnel. Once if Bree was telling the truth, it sure didn't seem that way. The tunnel wasn't any wider than the entrance, and right before Ally was going to bail, it opened up. It was still pitch black though, and Ally's grip on Bree's arm didn't slacken until the girl struck a match and lit a lantern. “Well, here we are. Home sweet home.” Bree gestured, before flopping onto a lawn chair. Ally gingerly set herself down, looking around.
The cave wasn't much bigger than a normal bedroom, with a low ceiling that made it seem even smaller. Despite that, it was cozy. Bree had apparently ventured out early, as the room was filled with scavenged goods. Drawers, ammo cans, canned food and more filled a corner of the cave-room, with a pile of wood on the other side. A bed sat against one wall, next to a stack of books.
“It's nice.” Ally complimented, eyeing some hides that were hung to tan, everything from rabbit to deer. It was smaller than the bunker Ally lived in, but not by much. “so, how good are you at chess?” Bree asked with a sheepish smile, pulling out a rough-looking board and what looked like hand-made pieces. Ally's lips curled into a grin, even as she responded “I'm the worst.”
Ally looked towards the tunnel as she lost again, and saw how dim the light was “I need to get home.” she stated, feeling the dull edge of the familiar mix of anxiety and fear. “I'll walk you back.” Bree told her, putting the board away. She spoke before Ally could protest “The least I could do since you lost so graciously.” The anxiety abated a little bit, while the fear disappeared completely. “I'll even bring a peace offering.” Bree told her, smiling sardonically as she pulled out a package of jerky. Ally grinned slightly, though internally she wished Bree didn't feel the need to do so. A prompt booting was almost inevitable without it though; her parents would always kick up a fuss about food supplies otherwise. Though Allie had to admit they did have a point; nearly ten years had strained their food stores too much to entertain.
Bree blew out the lantern, using a flashlight to light the way to the tunnel. Ally went first, though Bree wasn't more than a half-step behind, chest brushing against her back with every step. It put Ally at ease though, the thought of Bree between her and the pitch-black cave, though rationally, she knew that Bree wouldn't tolerate anything else living in her cave. The beam of light that illuminated the path in front of her also put her at ease, though she knew that few enough raiders came in this far. “We'll have to go by moonlight once we get outside.” Bree murmured, and Ally nodded slightly, already knowing that.
It was still nerve-wracking for her though. Every breeze made her jump, every animal noise made her shrink towards Bree, who laughed slightly. “Just a coyote.” she told the jumpy girl, though that didn't make her relax. That was the difference between bunkers and marauders; one knew the sounds of the outdoors, one knew only the artificial quietness of their bunker. One was at ease wandering around outside, the other only inside the bunker. Ally tore her eyes away from the suspicious shadows to look at Bree. The moonlight didn't offer the best illumination, but it was enough to see some tawny hair peeking out from under her hat, and the way her eyes moved smoothly, taking in their surroundings without an ounce of fear. She wasn't relaxed, but her muscles weren't tense as she moved smoothly, exuding confidence. If it were anyone else, she'd think them foolhardy, feeling confident with just a handgun and a bow while others had assault rifles, but it was Bree. The girl that had survived for ten years all on her own where others had entire communities and couldn't make it.
“Something on my face?” Bree asked, eyebrow arching over green eyes. Ally turned away quickly, face heating with the embarrassment of getting caught. Bree grinned, but said nothing more as she followed Ally to her home. It was a little slower than Bree, as she zigzagged through the wreckage of multiple houses, looking for the markers. It made sense that she had difficulty though; the tornado had affected this area much,much more than Bree's hillside. Eventually though, she found it, and tugged the hatch up, and started climbing down. Bree waited a second before climbing down, pulling the hatch shut above her. She could hear Ally's parents welcoming her back, before the father groaned, “Please tell me that savage isn't climbing down now.” a soft whack, which was probably one of the females scolding him, before she hit the bottom. The mother smiled welcomingly at her, but the father was glaring at her “We can't afford to feed her, darling.” he told Ally exasperated, steadfastly ignoring her. Bree laughed slightly “Keep that up and I'll think I'm not wanted.” she commented dryly, dropping the container of jerky on his lap. He grunted in annoyance, but opened the butcher paper to peer inside. “rabbit again?” he asked, managing to inject scorn into his voice. “Mm, nope. Nice try.” she responded, with just as much scorn. A sharp glance from Ally had her adding “It's elk.” he looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise “Did you waste the rest of it?” he asked, and she sighed, tiring of his jabs “No I didn't. You aren't the only people in this area. I traded some, gave some away. Have a friend holding some for me for later.” He looked at her with a frown “Others? You didn't tell them about us, did you?” Ally was surprised too; this was the first she'd heard of it. Bree shook her head “I told them there're others, but not where.” Bree turned to leave, but Ally grabbed her by her pants “Stay for dinner?” She asked, after looking to her mom for permission. “I don't feel like staying.” Bree stated deadpan, and Ally's face fell slightly, and her mother smiled, laying a hand on her arm “I'll keep Bill in line.”she assured Bree, who hesitated, before turning back around.
Bill, Bree and Ally sat at the table while Ally's mother made food for them. “How many others are in this area?” Bill asked, and Bree tapped her nails on the table, thinking “mmm... seven, plus Brandon's group.” Bill stilled, eyes narrowing “Brandon's group?” he asked flatly, and Bree nodded “Yeah. 40, maybe 50 people. Mostly focused on farming; got a pretty good seed bank.” There was a moment, where it wasn't clear if Bill was going to yell at her or not, before food was placed in front of them. “Thanks kindly, Dot.” Bree thanked her, with a wide smile. “Thank you. Must have been hard to take down an elk.” she responded, and the rest of the meal was spent with her giving a dramatic recounting of the tale. “It's not that hard. Animals have rebounded quick, especially without normal human depredation. I see at least two dozen deer a day. If we ever get back to how it was, I'll probably be rich.” Bree remarked, and Bill shot her a disproving look “You started out with just the shirt on your back.” Bree made a slight disagreeing noise, thinking of the equipment she had, but let him believe that “You only need to start out with a lot if you plan to spend a lot. I started out with, like you said, nothing. Now, I have a great deal more, as Ally can attest to.” She drained her cup before standing up with a sigh “Better be getting back. I found a hog wallow, and I'd like to hit it tonight.” She slid her hat back on, and ambled over to the ladder “Thanks for the meal, ma'am.” she inclined her head to Dot, who smiled slightly, before starting up the ladder.
The hatch was barely closed before Bill turned to Ally “What did she have?” he asked, making his wife sigh in exasperation. Ally thought about the room, wondering how she could do it jsutice. It was pure Bree from one wall to the other, but that wouldn't be enough of a descriptor. “She had a huge pile of blankets. Coats, too. Canned food. Some ammo cans. A couple guns, fishing rods. Looks like she made out pretty well.”. Of course she would, Ally thought; she was fearless and stronger than anyone she'd ever met. She worked hard and reaped the benefits.
Her father nodded, looking satisfied. “Do you think you could find it again, without her?” he asked, and Ally got a sinking feeling as she realized why he was so interested. “No.” she told him, honestly, and saw his face twist in frustration. “Make sure you can next time, and go for one of the ammo cans.” Ally looked to her mother, but saw she didn't hear, as she washed the dishes. Her father saw her look though, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it almost painfully “Look, Ally. She doesn't deserve any of it. She stole it! And you see how she looks down on me, because I'm like this.” He gestured to his useless legs, but Ally didn't look, eyes focused on a corner of the room. She was stoic, but inside, there was a struggle between yelling at him and bursting into tears. It was wrong of him, to use her to rob her friend. “She risked her life for those supplies though. More than I could say about you.” she retorted, doing a good job of keeping emotion out of her voice, though some of the disgust she felt leaked through. His face contorted in anger immediately, as he slammed his hands on the table “I will not have her teaching you her Ableist values! To your room!” he roared, and she didn't look to see her mother's reaction as she did so, lifting up the panel that served as her room's door and ceiling.
She remembered describing her room to Bree once, and the horrified face she got in return. She didn't think it was that bad, herself, though she readily admitted it could be ten years of having the same surroundings clouding her judgment. Her room was about four foot tall, as wide and long as a twin bed. A single light at the foot of the bed lit the area, along with the thin shelves that held her few belongings. She sat on the bed that was the floor of her room, and pulled out her needles and yarn. Bree had been amazed when Ally told her she could knit, confessing an ineptitude at it. The older girl had even regretfully recounted tales of mangled gloves and lopsided hats. She hadn't asked, but Ally was certain she would love the knit moccasins she was making for her. She certainly complained about walking around bare footed in the cave often enough. The thoughts of Bree brought her mind away from her current situation, making her smile.
I hope my formatting wasn't eaten... Anyway, thats the start of one of my favorite little pet projects! Let me know what you think, and I would love it if you enjoyed it enough to support me on Patreon! It's just a dollar a month, and you get extra content and get to vote on what I update!
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True to form the Clinton's do not want any type State funeral because Hillary does not want President Donald J. Trump to come speak. Thank you Mr....I don't know if anyone saw this video, but the robber as he chambers a round looks like he jams his pistol. Good example of why you need to practice operating your firearms. At least it would have been hard for him to actually shoot the clerk.
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The post President Trump Addresses NRA appeared first on AllOutdoor.com.
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I picked that fig tree to try the experiment on. The solution was poured around the base.
One month later, the test tree had almost a foot of growth, the other fig trees had very little growth.
Two of the larger fig trees had almost no growth over the course of the month.
First video posted March 10, 2017
Follow up video posted April 28, 2017.
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http://ift.tt/1P2xNPO US ship? Initial reports said it was a US cargo ship in international waters. US govt is...Travis stared at his TV screen, a mixture of irritation and dejection on his face. He wasn’t a gamer by any stretch, but he had been doing pretty well this round on his favorite war game. He thought about the old surge protector everything was plugged into; it had shorted out before.
He didn’t immediately notice the lights were out, since the lights were currently off. He preferred natural light, and so had his blinds open. He glanced at his digital clock, a battery operated model that showed the time to be 12:28 p.m.
Putting the controller on his desk, he realized that his ceiling fan had stopped working. Reaching his hand down into his pocket he pulled out his phone and tried to text a friend, only to get a no signal message. He opened his door and walked out into the house. His mom left the blinds open in the house during the day to cut the cost of electricity. None of the fans were on, and his mom sounded pretty irate in her office.
“Mom, I’m gonna ride over to Brian’s house. I’ll be back shortly,” Travis called out, walking out into the garage. He pulled his bike down off the rack; it was a mountain bike that he had rebuilt himself when he was twelve. He chuckled at the bike, remembering nearly a decade of fun and injury that he and the bike had sustained.
Brian’s parents lived three blocks over, and it was a nice day out. Travis made quick work of the ride, and pulled up onto the driveway, laying the bike over in the grass. He walked up to the front door and knocked.
Brian’s mother answered, “Oh, Travis, hello.” She stammered.
Travis tried not to notice that her hair was askew, and that her shirt was inside out as he asked for Brian.
“He’s not here. He went to Debbie’s. You want me to tell him something?” she asked
“Umm, just, uh, ask if he wants to go to the arcade at six. Tell him to bring eighteen bucks. Umm, bye. Thanks,” he stammered, trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible. He jumped on his bike and took off back towards his house.
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Brody Chapman watched as his crew stripped the asphalt from the road bed. He shook his head in bemusement. His number two man looked up from the blueprints and shot his boss a questioning look.
Still shaking his head Brody said, “I’ve worked for the city for nearly twenty five years, you know how many times I’ve worked on this road?”
A smile cracking his face, number two shook his head no.
“Twelve. I’ve repaved, repacked, and rebuilt it twelve stinking times, and it’s still the worst road in town.”
“One day they’ll figure out that you’re messing it up as a form of job security. Maybe they oughta let a strapping, intelligent young man to take over,” Joey, the number two, joked.
“Yeah, too bad huh? Those requirements would keep you out of the running,” Brody shot back.
As the two laughed, there was a sudden loud crash. Two cars had hit each other at the intersection to their backs. Two other cars plowed into the mess as the men turned to see what was happening.
“Call for an ambulance!” Brody yelled, heading for the work truck and its large first aid kit.
“Boss, my phone won’t call, says I don’t have any signal,” Joey called back.
Pulling his own phone out, Brody noticed that his also had no signal. Pulling the kit out of the truck, he told Joey to go get the crew and see if anyone’s phone was working. He reached the accident in time to see that everyone was getting out of their cars, mostly unscathed. He treated a couple of scratches, and a cut, but there were no serious injuries. Joey came up, and whispered that none of the crew’s phones had signal. Looking at the people gathered Brody realized that several were waving phones in the air, or wandering around in circles looking for signal.
Stepping back toward the truck, Brody looked at Joey solemnly, “I don’t like this. Did you know that the stop lights are out? Same with the bank sign over there. Tell the guys to shut it down; we’re going to see what’s happening.”
Joey strode off, walking down the line of heavy machinery, signaling the workers to stop for the time being. Five minutes later, they were in trucks heading back to either the yard, or in the case of Brody and Joey, headed to the office for answers.
The following may stay just the way it is today. OR it might become nothing more than a short, short story. If that happens the entire short story will probably be posted here.
HOWEVER.........If it turns into any kind of book only the first 50% or there a bouts will be posted here on the forum, the rest will be included in the book that will be sold at some whopping, huge, humongous, stratospheric price.
One last time! It is entirely possible that at some point only a portion of the following story will be FREE!!!!!
Additionally, as is always the case, this draft is rough, or rrrruuuuffffff, take your choices. Yes there will be misspelled words, yes there will be too many comas, too many run on sentences, and most certainly problems with syntax and grammar!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Folks I feel terrible having to write what I did up above! I am forced to come off as some kind of jackass. You all have my most sincere apologies for having to coming off like some idiot.
Just as an aside, I am not in the best frame of mind right now, so if I am offending anyone, please cut me some slack.
Choices
Chapter 1
As a teenager I had been forced to read Moby **** by Herman Melville. It might have been because it was written in old English or maybe because I was a shallow teenager but the book didn’t impress me all that much.
What did impress me and stuck with me over the years were the first few opening lines; “Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.”
Every once in a while when I was introduced to someone or some group, even if I was using a bogus name for security reasons, the back of my mind wanted me to say, call me Ishmael. The more dangerous or tense the situation the more I wanted to say, call me Ishmael. I can’t tell you why, because I don’t know why.
By the time I was twenty-nine I had seen some of the watery world mentioned by Melville, but I had seen far more jungle, desert or urban settings than watery ones.
I know how it sounds. It sounds like the cheese may have slipped off the cracker a little. Considering what I had been doing with my life since high school, and particularly the last few years there is ample justification for that thought. Not only had the cheese slipped off the cracker it had fallen to the floor with a splat.
It had been pounded into me that to succeed you needed to go to college. I won’t dispute how true that is. But it didn’t take much of a genius to see that paying for that education had some draw backs.
I wasn’t lost or directionless, I was middle class and afraid of spending twenty years of what amounted to indentured servitude paying back all that money.
I can’t really blame anyone for what happened, it was my own fault. My dad had a younger brother named Mike. Mike was only ten years older than I was and he was quite the character. He had done a 6 year contract in the military and then went into some private sector organization. He was a lot of fun.
My dad and he took me hunting and fishing from the time I was old enough to walk on my own. Somewhere my mom has a picture of me sitting on my dad’s shoulders while he was fly fishing for trout. In the back ground, Mike was making a funny face.
Mike encouraged me to join the JROTC in high school so I joined. For a retired Marine E-8 my instructor sergeant Schubel was a pretty good guy. I wouldn’t say he was recruiting for the military, but he was never slow in pointing out the value of serving.
As my senior year approached I still hadn’t been able to pin down exactly what I wanted to do. One day sergeant Schubel asked if I would like to take some psychological testing that could show what my aptitudes were.
That made sense to me. If I found I was good at something or had a leaning toward a certain career then I might be able to pin down what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
The first testing was more like a social event. There were a couple hundred teenagers being tested at the same time and the atmosphere was more party than anything else. The testing itself was easy enough. I was told to answer quickly and honestly, and that’s what I did.
A week later I was called back for some further questions. I was the only one there that time. This time it was a lot more complicated but the two guys doing the testing and interviewing were friendly and I didn’t feel pressured or anything.
With graduation on the horizon I was invited by the same people who did the testing for an all-expenses paid weekend in Florida to do some follow up testing and a possible job interview.
I wish I could say I had some sense of foreboding or a feeling of monumental changes in my life, but I didn’t. I suppose I was too dumb and full of cum to be worried.
As it turned out, the testing showed one very valuable linchpin fact, or trait. The trait? They called it a “certain moral flexibility”.
One thing led to another and now at twenty-nine I was adjusting high tech night vision and a listening device. Next I pulled a flexible tube attached, and wand to a valve and screwed that onto a canister from my pack. The canister was the same color and printed with the logo of a common self-sealing fuel canister for backpacking stoves that contains two pre-pressurized gases: isobutane and propane.
In my canisters the isobutane and propane had been replaced with a combination of gasses that wouldn’t cook your meal but did a good job of cooking a person’s brain.
This particular operation was just challenging enough to make it interesting. I had a fondness for paragliding and always liked to include my personal passions in my assignments when possible.
Of course the description of paragliding found online at the Wikipedia sight; “Paragliding is the recreational and competitive adventure sport of flying paragliders: lightweight, free-flying, foot-launched glider aircraft with no rigid primary structure.
The pilot sits in a harness suspended below a fabric wing comprising a large number of interconnected baffled cells. Despite not using an engine, paragliders flight can last many hours and cover many hundreds of miles, though flights of one to two hours and covering some tens of miles are more the norm.
By skillful exploitation of sources of lift, the pilot may gain height, often climbing to altitudes of thousands of feet.” Left something to be desired.
The description was true and accurate as far as it went. What it couldn’t convey was the experience of doing it on a moonless night and landing on the roof of a building a few hundred feet from its neighbors. It sported cameras that were monitoring all around the property. In this case all the cameras were pointing out away from the house and not up at the roof.
My pride in making a whisper quite landing was diluted considerably when I landed and was almost blown off the roof by AC/DCs - Highway to Hell played loud enough to vibrate the shingles on the roof.
No way was I going to let it spoil my feeling of accomplishment in hitting such a small target in the dead of a windy night!
A quick turn around a vent pipe with my climbing rope, and I dipped over the side. The rope was securing me upside down and I could look into the bathroom through the window from above.
It was dark inside with just enough light from another room for me to be certain it was empty. The window was open and inch. I suppose for ventilation. I pulled on my respirator and held a canister with a valve that was activated by pulling a trigger. With my other hand I extended a long thin wand with a nozzle on the end inside the bathroom. I kept a slow count until I had enough gas pushed into the room.
I pulled the window the rest of the way open. It was just big enough for me to ease through. At the doorway I bent the wand and let it peek into the hall in both directions. I cleared the back of the house the same way. Standing in the darkened hallway right outside the party room I pulled the trigger and let the gas quietly permeate the whole room. A quick peek showed me everyone inside was taking a little nap. At the doorway to the kitchen I did the same thing. Soon the whole house was asleep.
The gas didn’t knock people out instantaneously. In the first few seconds they felt drowsy, with a tremendous feeling of wellbeing. Then it made them very drowsy. So far I had used the same gas on half a dozen missions and it pretty much did the same thing to everyone. A couple of whiffs and you felt tired but great. Then if you were seated you just drifted off to sleep. If you were standing you just eased down onto the floor with a goofy smile and fell asleep.
I was cautious and made sure everyone was breathing slowly but regularly. If someone seemed only half out of it I gave them another dose right from the nozzle.
When I was sure no one was going to wake up any time soon I pulled my pack off and spread the contents on the kitchen table. I took the photos I had been given and made sure I knew who was who. Soon I had fingerprints on all the parts and pieces that needed them. Next I hid various items in out of the way places. Some were duct taped under the sink out of sight. With the appropriate fingerprint and even a hair caught on the glue side of the tape. When I had everything planted, I carefully bagged up the other items with the appropriate finger prints on them.
I cleaned up and checked the area twice before easing back through the bathroom window, closing it down to an inch.
On the roof I stowed the rope and began laying my fabric wing out to make sure nothing was tangled. It took another ten minutes for the wind to gust hard enough for me to launch off the roof. I couldn’t get much altitude, but I managed to get well beyond the property boarders before I was on the ground folding my fabric wing up and stowing it in my pack.
Pulling down my night vision gear I did my best to make sure I left no foot prints or broken twigs or turned over rocks as I left the area. Walking away I had to grin. The party crowed was going to wake up slightly more hung over than usual.
When I was far enough away I pulled out a ground cloth, wrapped it around me and slept to false daylight. I had a twenty mile hike ahead of me but it was pretty country, and a gorgeous morning so I didn’t mind. Munching a granola bar, sipping water, I caught myself humming the music, then singing John Denver’s version of Take Me Home, Country Roads in a low voice.
Many of us don’t take the time to reflect on the accomplishments our ancestors implemented here in America. We went from opening up a continent to exploring it first followed by colonization. Granted, there were many travesties that occurred along the way, some can write it off as progress while others want to denigrate those massive achievements simply by disparaging them. I choose to acknowledge those accomplishments with pride in what America once was and what America still is, but it is unraveling like a ball of twine. There are many reasons for that but because too many people have taken those great accomplishments and have cast aspersions on them simply as a way of being mean, and ungrateful for those wondrous accomplishments.
When we dissect the motives for this, we begin to uncover the root causes. First of all, immigrants who came to America came largely from Europe and they came by the hundreds of thousands. They left their homelands, families, and everything they were accustomed to for an ideal which they left behind in those many countries they immigrated from. Most had to learn a new language, accept a new culture, and begin the lifelong chore of blending into a new land which was nothing compared to everything they had ever known. They left behind family, both living and dead, to embrace a new life where freedom was the sirens call which beckoned them from afar.
They came, they assimilated, they learned English, they pledged their allegiance to this new land and what it stood for, and none of them came to the shores of America with the attitude they were going to get something for nothing. In fact, they worked from sunup to sundown, and many of them seven days a week. They did it because America offered them freedom to raise a family without the concept of serfdom and most of all they came, they immersed themselves in a culture where freedom was guaranteed to them, because of those wondrous document called the United States Bill of Rights and Constitution. They were free to come and go as they pleased, to worship their religions without fear. They were able to purchase land.
As long as they worked for what they wanted, most of the time they were left unmolested. That’s not to say there were no prejudices because there were plenty of those, but the people didn’t give up, they persevered until they reached a level of acceptance and whatever it was they wanted from this great culture. Many succeeded while others didn’t do so well. But, the American dream was attainable by most as long as they made the attempt to build a future for themselves and their own kind.
They carved out a nation with their bare hands. They built railroads through the wilderness in the mountains bridging one mountain to another with great trestles and they bored enormous holes in the side of mountains as they went about building an infrastructure that would support more immigrants who came to this great land in search of whatever they did not have in their homeland, but was promised to them in America if they came to those shores.
They built roads, great canals, bridges, grist mills, factories, and they built homes and schools. They built, and they progressed, and they were enormously proud of their new land in the promises it made to them if they would only come here and be a part of the building of the greatest nation on earth.
It was a great land because it had vast resources. It was great because it allowed anyone who was willing to work to build a life within it working hand-in-hand with their neighbors to build a modern Empire dedicated to freedom and to the individual. This nation they were building became the world’s first modern superpower.
When the Sabers of war were clashing together in Europe, America came to their aid. We fought the greatest superpower of its age, the British Empire not once but twice, and we won our freedom.
Years later we fought a terrible Civil War. Many contend it was about slavery, but although that was one of the ingredients of the great recipe, it ravaged America, and it turned many of the citizens against one another in a bloody conflict, it was about mainly, about states’ rights. More than 750,000 people gave up their lives in this quest.
When the Civil War was over, there was a period of peace in the world, but it didn’t last very long and another war exploded onto the American scene. It was the Spanish-American war. When it was over, great areas of land became either a protectorate or a part of America. Then, Americans enjoyed peace once again.
Europe detonated again into a world war said to be the war to end all wars. Although America was reluctant to get involved with Europe’s problems, it did finally, and thousands of Americans died on European soil. When the war finally ended in 1918, our young men came home to immerse themselves in jobs, the pursuit of education and to raise families of their own. That lasted for another 20 years and Europe again exploded like a smoldering sleeping super volcano and America went to war again.
Patriotism in that day and age was extremely high. No one dared to burn or stomp on an American flag. There were those who hid in the shadows and said not so flattering comments about America, but they weren’t very vociferous, choosing safety over bravado. In that day and age, you could count on an butt whipping at the very least for saying anything disparaging against America and its ideals, and principles, and at the other end of the spectrum, perhaps even jail time.
Things have changed in America on a large basis. It is observed in many places there is no longer a national pride in being an American or supporting its principles. It has become fashionable to knock America’s greatness in those incredible adventures it took part in to make America the greatest country on earth. Today, reinforced with a Marxist philosophy it has become stylish to knock America’s greatness, to usurp the fighting spirit Americans once had to be replaced by a never-ending cradle to the grave welfare mentality. A ward of the state has usurped the American dream. A system where greatness in spirit, and culture, has been replaced by a “give me attitude” while those who receive give nothing in return except another mouth to feed.
Our country had the greatest educational system anywhere on earth. It had the richest treasury of any nation that has ever existed according to written historical records. Its military might was awesome and unbeatable. Our people loved their country and the flag that represents it. We had the greatest factories and a manufacturing base unsurpassed by no others in the world. Our highways and byways were exemplary. We had the greatest medical knowledge base the worlds had ever known. Our people were free, we were fierce adversaries, and we stood alone in the world with pride in knowing ours was the greatest nation on earth.
One day, we were faced with another foreign war which had nothing to do with America, but we sent troops and hardware over across a great ocean to fight for a small agrarian country’s freedom from communist aggression, and ever so slowly all that was America’s greatness began to unravel from within.
The young of our nation spat on the flag and the principals that made America stand alone in a greatness never before displayed on the planet. People lost respect for not only the country, but its leaders, and then the principals we were once taught in our schools, became a secondary platform of what we once were. Marxism took the place of pride in country and the Communist manifesto began to seep into the school curriculums and politics.
Our entertainment messages became one of disrespect for America and its policies. Our mainstream media became slanted against the American values, and our military became a subject of great disrespect and scorn. God was driven out of almost everything, and was replaced with perversions and contempt.
Of course, there is a lot more but what has happened is, our domestic enemies have seized control of many of the machinery that drives America, and it is coming apart at the seams. Our morals and Judaea/Christian values have all but been buried under a dung heap, what was once the acceptable behavior has been replaced by greed, avarice, a welfare mentality and pride in other cultures other than America’s. We were once referred to as simply Americans, not some hyphenated version. People still come to America but they come for whatever they can get and they bring hatred of America with them.
There is a contempt and scorn of our country, and this is encouraged by a portion of our politicians who make laws that strip Americans of their birthrights. Joseph McCarthy once said, “The greatest threat to America today isn't the politicians who vote away the America’s rights, it is the voters who vote these people into the offices, who in turn are destroying America from within. They are helped with a population who has become dependent on the public feeding trough.
I hope Donald Trump will implement most of his promises to “Drain the Swamp.” We need to get back to those principals, that guided us through many wars, and to a prosperity never before known in other lands anywhere on the planet earth.
Caseyboy
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Finished a merry go round, the 3 seater swing seat needs fine chain and working on a jungle gym just like in the photo. Also been buying figures at a what I consider good prices and those that I can make molds of to make copies of. Then will alter those pieces to make molds of and cast parts from. Hardest part has been finding women which is why I bought the pin up set. Youtube video kit review shows legs, arms, head and hair are separate pieces which will make my job a lot easier. Will leave the heavy guns/anti-tank weapons off the vehicles so they look more like military surplus.
Remember the movie I Am Legend? This is the kind of look I'm looking for. Not interested in the Mad Max look with a lot of women showing T&A or 1,000 pounds of steel plating on a fiberglass semi-trucks hood.
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I'm looking for some good books to read regarding nuclear weapon technology as well as use in conflict and expectations This is a subject this I...[unable to retrieve full-text content]
I don't have both to compare, but they're meant to be very similar, just wondering will they fit the same holster or not? Thanks in advance for...[unable to retrieve full-text content]
Jeepers seems like some money is missing. So much for doing it fo da keds. Yes, like Curlie, I am missing link.| vBulletin Message |
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Don't believe me?
Google it and be prepared. I felt pretty sick after I did.
Direct wood burning generators, no. But you can run most any engine on wood gas. There have been a few good threads on it here over the years. I think it would be a great solution for a generator. Not so much for a vehicle, like some folks were discussing.
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Folks, when starting a thread, please take a moment and consider which forum that thread belongs in. Disaster Preparedness is for disaster preparedness discussions only. There are forums for gun posts, news, politics, general discussion, etc. Please try to start threads in the right forum. This makes the site better for all of us. Thanks.
Believe me, I know all about unarmed combat. Don't depend on this or waste your time with it. Anyone serious will have a knife, minimum, and you will never see the knife until it is in your guts---one has been in mine so I know this the hard way. If you are attacked, use simple, overwhelming force in your defense---a gun if possible.
The post Review: MVB ARC-X Collapsible AR Stock appeared first on AllOutdoor.com.
The Kriss Vector is available in a range of calibers and has a recoil mitigation system that keeps the carbine on target. A picatinny rail is on top and bottom for attaching optics and lights.
The post Watch: 10mm Kriss Vector CRB Review appeared first on AllOutdoor.com.
There is some weirdness going on with their links if you try to hit the page directly you wont get the $90, it will show 104 or possibly 107
I found it by doing a google search and it gave me a 90 price.
I used the following keywords in google
brownells magpul x22 takedown
in my browser it was the first link, but multiple links showed up some of which take you to a 109 price.
It looks like you also need to be logged in to a brownells account.
I would start with contacting the Department of Defense for assistance and see if any of the history commands can assist.
"I came into the world kicking, screaming and covered in someone else's blood, I have no issues leaving the same way"
I am in California on the California side of the divide, that is, east of Interstate 5. West of interstate 5 is Mexifornia and potential problems besides the usual SHTF scripts.
I am a fan of Mike Mah's (nostressmike.com) who talks about survival on all level of problems.
