Posted: 4/6/2017 1:59:37 AM EDT
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Breathe, breathe in the air.
Don't be afraid to care. Leave but don't leave me. Look around and choose your own ground. Long you live and high you fly And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry And all you touch and all you see Is all your life will ever be. Run, rabbit run. Dig that hole, forget the sun, And when at last the work is done Don't sit down it's time to dig another one. For long you live and high you fly But only if you ride the tide And balanced on the biggest wave You race towards an early grave. Â Â |
 Purple Bananas On The Moon an Art Paul Original (Official Video) https://youtu.be/UxvuSqOZrak |
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A long time ago, I asked my grandfather what the Gulag's were like.
Cold. The man was a woodworker, a cabinet maker. He was the only inspiration for me for what a man should be. He'd tell me how most of his friends from jail were still living in southern California. Even one of the guards. Always wondered why he had stayed friends with the old guard. But after my grandfather's passing I found out it was more about respect. |
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The first exposure I had with guns was with my grandfather. I was 9yo. It was exciting at first but I noticed I was loading the mags more than I was shooting. My grandpa had brought a few of his friends with him and they were hogging the range.
I complained and got my chance. I wasn't a natural like I had hoped. When I turned to ask a question I was quickly yelled at for breaking 180 and sweeping others. And just as quickly as I had started, so to abruptly was my turn over. I kinda felt jipped. As if I'd never be able to shoot again. I inherited that gun. |
I like the direction this thread went with the addition of fun bags 
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I remember the first 80% AR I had built. Most of you may remember tannery lowers and KT ordnance as well.
I was on homegunsmith forum for years before I had heard of Arfcom. I cut my teeth on a cast lower with a drill press and a Dremel. I tapped the lower with the lower between my knees. Yeah it wasn't that straight. When I showed off my completed and tested rifle to my grandfather he was pissed. "Who did you buy it from?". I was insulted. Later on he offered to buy it off of me. His reasoning was to keep me out of trouble. Yet I kinda knew better. He had friends who would have loved to get their hands on a rifle like that I took his offer, but only if I destroyed the rifle first. He begrudgingly agreed. Hack sawing that rifle was the most painful thing I ever had to do. But a deal is a deal. Add that wasn't my last lower. |
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I like the direction this thread went with the addition of fun bags Quoted:
I like the direction this thread went with the addition of fun bags 
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It was '03-04 when we found out Gramps had cancer. Sucked. The man was doing everything he could to get his affairs together. Made audio and video of everything that needed to be said.
My family begged me to talk to him to get to know about the man he used to be. His history and what led him to this point. Till this day I don't care about that man. I still miss the man he was for me and the rest of the family. That's the only man I knew. After he passed, all of his gulag prison mates would tell me about how great of a man he was. Bullshit! Only I knew that. Who the hell did these guys think they were? They sure as shit weren't MY family. I felt cheated. |
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Now Everytime I think about it I'm hit with the now fading sting of regret. I can't change the past. I can't go back and ask him about any of those things. But then again I wouldn't want to.
Who tries to find the history of their loved ones to learn who they were? What can they gain from it? How does it compare actually speaking to that person while they're living? And how you're able to talk to them about arbitrary things. Random things. Funny things. ... and laugh about them. No. That time is gone. Missed my shot. Maybe I'll learn how to talk to my kid. Figure out what I needed to hear and say it to her. Maybe I can give her some sense of peace knowing that all I could ever be for her is right now. Not who I used to be. |
 Willie Nelson - Time of the Preacher Theme |
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I'll show you her tits if you tell me what this fuckin' thread was about.  Quoted:
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What was this thread about? |
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can we make this a butt thread
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What was this thread about? |
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My Granddad was an avid outdoorsman. He carved his own longbows. Fletched his own arrows. He had a contact for bamboo somewhere, and tied his own guides to short sections of bamboo rod to make his own fishing poles. He was the type of guy that would take his scoped Marlin bolt-action .22 with him on a walk out in the woods. He'd have five rounds in the rifle, and if he came back with less than five squirrels, he'd damn well better have shells left over! Darn well, I should say, because he never cursed. Occasionally, he'd come back with six squirrels, or seven, because he was a patient man and could wait until he could get a two-fer. He never drank until he was diagnosed with leukemia, and his doctor said that a single glass of red wine a night would help him. It was a blood thinner, don't you know. So he would have his dinner, like normal, and then afterward he'd have his single glass of red wine. Took it like medicine.
I never knew him - he passed away when I was a toddler. I have two of his fishing poles though. He somehow typed his name and the date on a clear piece of tape, or vellum, or something... some kind of clear label. Then he shellacked over the label after he put the guides on. One is from before the War, one is from after. I don't dare ever fish with them because I don't know how fragile they are and if I broke one I'd feel just awful. |