Made it to Colorado Springs today safe and sound. We stopped in Omaha for a day or so to take care of a few things. It's funny how much I found that I missed the O. I remember hating it. Then again, I was a dumbshit enlisted man back then. Now I'm a dumbshit married NCO. By the time I'm a master sergeant I'll probably be in fucking love with the place.
Colorado, however, is simply beautiful. We're going to do some exploring tomorrow, see what's out there.
Should I be wary that I'm feeling optimistic about all this?
So among my new year's resolutions is to post here more, so here we go.
I'm currently sitting in a motel room in Milwaukee, me and the family are on our way to Colorado to begin my next assignment. A lot changed since the last post. The plan to get out of the military was changed at the last minute, and I'm pretty much in the Air Force for another 16 years or until they kick me out, whichever comes first.
I never walked across Virginia, although I make room for the prospect of walking across Colorado at some future date. I definitely want this coming assignment to be different from the last. I want to get out and see more of the state, for instance. We were in Virginia for four years and barely saw any of it.
Need to get back on the fitness train too. For awhile, I was doing really well. A deployment will do that. Working out every day, weight lifting and cardio. I kind of let it go when I got back tot he world. When I get to CO, I'll be hitting the gym every morning as part of my routine.
Until then, however, I'm going to Gilles's for burgers.
When I was in tech school, I woke up one Saturday morning and was exceedingly bored. So, I decided to go for a walk... to Glen Burnie, a town about eight miles away from my barracks at Fort Meade.
Every so often I think about being one of those guys who walks across the country. Last night, I saw a report on the news about a Soldier who's walking from Virginia Beach to the California coast to promote a charity dedicated to Pat Tillman. It got me thinking again about that walk and how I still want to do something like that.
So I think I might walk across Virginia. Either the Virginia part of the Appalachian Trail or just walking from here to the West Virginia border.
Needs more thought.
So, I'm not going to Japan after all. It turns out my skills are better put to use deployed in Middle Eastern Hell-holes instead.
Those of you who read the dragon's journal
already know the news, but here it is anyway.
We're going to Japan... provisionally.
I say provisionally because apparently deployment orders might conflict with PCS orders and it depends on which they want to take precedence. Personally, I think they would rather throw someone else a bone by GIVING them my deployment and letting me go to Japan. I'm not saying where I'm supposed to go, but it's CAKE. Anyone who wouldn't want to spend their deployment there instead of ducking IEDs in Kabul is fucking lying to you.
But according to the only official papers I've seen, I'm supposed to report to Misawa Air Base
in Aomori Prefecture by the end of May. The dragon and I have always wanted to go to Japan, so of course she's excited. How excited? She created a folder in our bookmarks to stuff all the links we need to prepare and called it "Japan!" including the exclamation mark.
Gonna be an interesting eight months.
|» Gun wussy|
So I was talking to a friend via AIM the other day. Guy I went to high school with. He considers himself a gun nut. |
He was whining and complaining how he'd give his left nut for a G36. A G36 is a full auto assault rifle made in Germany. Expensive, and I've never seen the appeal. (Full autos are for pussies who don't like to aim....)
Well, I got sick of his whining.
"So go to the bank, take out a loan and get one," I said.
"You have to have a permit," he whined.
"So get one," I said.
"It's too hard."
"Then you can't really be willing to give your left nut for a G36," I told him.
"Dude! Why should I get a permit when they're (the ATF) just going to make it hard to do and take it away from me anyway?"
This is where I got mad, but I think I responded with a well thought out and academic argument...
"You're a fucking pussy!"
This is what set me off: I have no love for BATF. They're too eager to grab guns from innocent people because they know innocent people won't shoot at them. There's a reason it's tough to get a license for a full auto. It's because they know people won't go through the hassle of doing it, and if you don't want something badly enough to go through a little hassle, then don't bitch.
|» Range report: FNP-9|
To celebrate the birth of my second son, I did what every proud father does: I bought a gun.|
What? You don't buy guns when your wife gives birth to a son? What? You don't love your kids or something? Fags...
(Author's Note: It's not just for son. If it had been a girl, I would have bought a dirtbike...)
Anyhow, as I have been meaning to add two more pieces to my arsenal before a Democrat claims the presidency and works on taking them all away, I went and bought a 9mm FNP-9 automatic pistol. Originally, I had been looking at Glocks, and on a lark I asked to see the FN. When I held it, it fit my hand so well, I did a double take. After a little research to make sure it wasn't one of those shit automatics that have been hitting the streets lately (Sigma, I'm talking to you....) I grabbed it. It cost me just under $500.
Now, this isn't the first automatic I've owned. I used to own a .45 Beretta Cougar, but I traded it for my .357 revolver. The problems I had with the Cougar were many and varied, and in comparison the FNP-9 is a fucking dream. I don't mean one of those dreams where you don't wear pants to work and shit. I'm talking about one of those dreams where Xena Warrior Princess shows up at the door with pizza and beer.
I took her to the range and fired off 100 rounds without a single FTF. I was making headshots at the furthest distance, about fifty feet. Nice. She also had lower recoil, even when compared to the M9 I carried on deployment.
The Cougar, in comparison, wasn't all that great in the shooting department. High recoil, low mag capacity and a tendency to fail to meet targeting estimates (also known as "fucking missing the goddamn target.)
I also like the fact that unlike the Cougar or the Glocks, the FNP is single or double action. Meaning the trigger pull after the first shot is easier.
Taking the thing apart and cleaning it results in three pieces of gun. That's it. And every part fits together easily. The Cougar was a bitch to put back together because you basically had to balance the barrel inside the slide and get it back on the lower half without any of the pieces falling out of alignment. I can say for a fact that the FNP-9 is the easiest gun I've ever field stripped.
The only bad thing I have to say about it is brass ejection. The brass isn't flung far enough away. I had one piece go up and then down the front of my shirt. Yeah, fuck that. However, it might just be one of those things that goes away when the gun is broken in. If not, I can live with it. It's accurate and easy to maintain. It's a workhorse. Small enough to conceal, big enough to kill.
The icing on the cake? FN had a deal where if you buy one before September, the send you a free shooters kit including a holster and mag holder worth $70 bucks. Whaddup? High five!
Overall, I'm happier with this gun than I was with the Cougar and am with the .357.
|» Fine! I'll Fucking Update!|
So Lucky Jack is still in the hospital. The docs don't want to send him home until he's eating better and his temperate is stable. He's improving, but slowly. Meanwhile, the Dragon is staying at the hospital with him on boarding status. That means it's just me and the Zodling. |
I've also been cleaning the place up. We have parents coming in a week. Between that and the boy (whose managed to pee on me twice already) I'm good and busy.
It's going to be a long month.
|» Long Live the King|
Jacob Bernard "Lucky Jack" Doscher was born at 7:11 p.m. EST, July 3 at 5 lbs., 1 oz.|
Mother and baby are doing well.
More when I'm not so sleepy.
|» "Dream it, you fucking dreamers!"|
So the dragon and I have been thinking about our dream house after I retire from the service. I finally managed to trick her into agreeing to live in rural Missouri. All I had to do was trade her my entire GI Bill... sucker.|
Now, keep in mind, this is a "dream house" not a "house I know we can afford." Some things, like the widow's walk/sniper nest on the roof, we may have to compromise on.
First, I want 40 motherfucking acres of land in Missouri, at least 30 of which wooded.
I want a two story house plus a basement lair where I can work on guns.
Sethra wants a library. Fine. I want an armory, complete with steel doors.
I want a fucking awesome kitchen with plenty of counter space and a motherfucking potato bin! Don't look at me like that! You heard me! A fucking potato bin!
I want a widow's walk on the roof with a set-up for a scoped rifle (or crew served M249 depending on how Heller vs. D.C. shakes out) so I can shoot motherfucking coyotes.
Outside, I want a big fucking garden so I can grow tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, corn and other wicked vegetable shit.
I want guineas. They eat ticks. 'Nuff said.
I want a chicken coop.
I want a perimeter road around my property just inside the tree line so I can run in the morning.
I want my nearest neighbor to be FAR THE FUCK AWAY.
Just for the fuck of it, I might raise a barn... motherfucking Amish style, dog!
"But Davner," you weak-willed pussies say, "How can you afford all this?!"
I GOT NO FUCKING IDEA!
Sethra and I are putting away money from my deployments. We figure by the time I'm actually out, that's close to 80 Gs right there. Plus the money going into TSP, some savings going into CDs, and hopefully some bonus money here and there. Who knows? Also, I wasn't playing when I said Sethra gets the GI Bill. Jim Webb's new GI Bill lets you transfer some of the benefits. Since I go to school for free anyway, she can go to school for free, get her degree and have that career she's always wanted.
Me? I go motherfucking fishing with my boy-eez. They'll be 12 and 10 by then.
Live the dream, homey.