ScottishTankerHooligans

'Cause Murph "hates this crap"...

He gets to read more tales of wildlife adventure.   I ran into Murph on the ramp at Andrews.  He was flying his ginormous penis envy machine (C-9) whilst I, humble servant of the masses, was pushing my environmentally conscious green mini-commuter of the people(C-12).  Prop dudes get no respect at Andrews, I can tell you that for sure.  Just try to get a fuel truck with a three star screaming at you about being late and watch what happens when an empty Air Force lear jet taxi's out ahead of you in line.  Was great to run into Murph, He's a bro from way back.  Although I have legitimate claim to raising him from a pup on Okinawa, ultimately, being a FOM (Friend of Murph) has been worth much much more over the years. I hope you're not still mad about that one time at band camp when we filled your van with shredded paper. Thanks Murph, the rest of this post is for you.

  On to wildlife stories.  The pond has occupied some space recently.  Things have taken a turn for the worse for denizens of the pond.  Some assbag decided this pond (read: MY EFFING POND) was the proper receptacle for a few unwanted snapping turtles.  So, as is their wont, ninny liberal leaf eaters, unwilling INCAPABLE of responding appropriately to the presence of unwanted predators, have left the problem for me to deal with.   What's the problem with a few turtles you ask? Well, I'll oblige, snapping turtles are fish killers that WILL RUIN A FISH POND.  They will move in and kill everything they can get a jaw around.  I was displeased.  So, what do you think is going to happen? You're damn right, soup is going to happen.
Here is the smaller of the two offending Chelydra serpentina. 
  Trying to act all badass and Gamera-like.

He looks bigger in the pic than he really is.  But that gulf club sized head with jaws to match is not an exaggeration.  He is a mean little prick to be sure.  Some say turtles cannot jump, this is technically correct, however this PREHISTORIC F%*K LUNGED UP OUT OF THE DAMN COOLER!!11!.  Lunge, jump, whatever.  He's going to be soup, or some type of Emeril Lagasse dish, spicy, garlicy, and washed down with many a cold one.  He currently resides in the cooler of woe, next to the tackle box of woe.  A "day in the box" has served to take most of the starch out of his bad attitude.  A number 10 stainless steel hook in your gullet probably does not incite revolutionary ideas either.  His older brother yet awaits, eying us evily, obviously intent on some sort of turtley vengence.  And he's a BIG SOB.  At least twice as big.  I've missed him once already with the usual rigs.  Inspired by Capt Quint, I'm gigging up special for him tonight.


Aye Mr. Cooper, city hands...

Various chicken parts have gone untouched.  This bastard of the deep insists on fresh victims. 

A night naval battle looms me hearties.

Semper Fidelis.

Should I not return, tell my Wife I love her, and the TV remote is by the shitter.

 

Stupid bluegill spilled my beer....NOW WITH RAD BLOGGY UPDATE 111

...yeah, a dumb fish wiggled on the line and smacked over my can of the cool, sweet, nectar.  The little shit.  He couldn't even get the whole lure into his cake-hole.  Complaints from a retired guy falling on deaf ears, I know, but the little shits should have some respect for a 3 war vet.  A little background...the cuz and I, recently reunited family-wise, who share a fondness of fast machines, who's Harley Pic I can't find at the moment would agree.  I should have picked the hook and threw this little shit onto the pavement.

  All I have to say is... Eagle Claw results brother.  Bass flow to the patient however...

Yeah baby... how about another...
Yeah, that's another one...want some more?...
Just so's you're sure that I'm a professional...
Yeah, I know a few things about a few things.  Fishing is one of them.   

update 1!!11

Fishing report today - brisk.  Two largemouths and a bluegill in about fifteen minutes.  I barley had time to swill down a couple of ice-cold stupids, the action was that fast paced.  Though, no further catches of Walter (pictured above, an inside baseball reference to On Golden Pond, remarkable only for the fishing scenes, Henry's dry humor and the last time Jane Fonda was worth looking at in anything other than a gas chamber).  I've caught him twice now and I think he's in the deep hole at the west end of the pond re-evaluating his menu choices.  It's for sure his Bassy lips need a rest.  The younger bass continue to hit the Rapalas like Bikers at a highschool cheerleader meet.  The tadpoles that have hatched three weeks ago have apparently grown froggy-legs and are venturing out to deeper water only to meet an evolutionary pre-ordained end.  No less than two spots at any time on the surface of a 1/4 acre pond were in a continuous roil of tad-frog ending turbulence.  It's a slaughter out there my friends.

Now comes the time wherein I help you, dear reader.  Pictured below is the original floating Rapala lure, in standard gold.  Ladies who have men in their lives who fish, take note.  These simple lures are unchanged over many years because they work.  The original floating Rapala  will catch more fish than everything else combined in any given tackle-box.  They catch fish when nothing else will.  The only better bait is live bait.  If you need an inexpensive gift idea here it is:

   A must have in every fresh water tackle box.  In silver and gold.  Don't get silly in the store and drawn off by fancy colors and other shiney shit, like deep divers, or that stupid jointed crap.  These are all you gals need to know, in this 2in. size and the next one up at about three inches long. You'll be an instant hit for less than 10 bucks.  And, google up the Rapala knot and show your dimwit how to tie the thing on right without having to use a swivel clip, which turns big bass off almost immediately in clear water.  If he waves you off with the gaff that "I knows how to tie a lure, woman", you can say: "Any knot that grips the eyelet will make it swim sideways, stupid. The company website says so".  A light slap on the back of the head for emphasis works well here.  Then wear some daisey-duke shorts while you're fishing.  You will be a hero, trust me.  There, I've struck my blow for freedom today.

 In related news, I have recently placed an 8 dollar Rapala, of other design, firmly twelve feet up and three feet out over the water in a tree limb next to the pond.  First responder measures were taken, to no avail. Sometime this weekend, a song will sound, and that song will be the song of the 1978 14 inch bar SKIL chainsaw, or the 1973 Husquavarna, whichever I can get to run first, and that song will be loud and brief me hardees, and accompanied by acrid blue smoke.  And Giai will weep, that bitch.  Then the number 4 Rapala sinker, in original gold, will re-take it's rightfull place in slot number four, second shelf, in the tacklebox of woe.

In other news, my rear end is making noise.  It's not the noise that may or may not result in a blue to orange colored flame.  I think this is why:

  Don't tell me about sawdust.  I know about the damn sawdust already.  Noise going away does not equal problem solved.  This SOB needs to live until I get hired by some entity willing to pay me a sick amount of coin to fly rubber dog-shit into Bagdad.  And no crap about 52 miles an hour either, this was in a parking lot.  A nursing home parking lot. 

Retirement complete.

OK sportsfans, the deed is done.  20 years of active duty.  I've struck my blow for freedom and apple pie and now it's time to earn my keep.  Before we get to that, a few pics of the events if you will.

This is the last squad of the flag ceremony.  Every rank form PFC to the last rank you held is represented and passes an American flag up the ranks.  Then it is passed to you.  Whoever drops one is fed to killer whales.  That would be funny if you didn't know that we actually open a vein and throw the sunovabitch in.
 
Stars and Stripes..I gotz dem..

Then I pontificate...a little...you know, the usual drill
, who is jacked up, who needs to un-ass themselves...

I apparently have a list..on paper.

Then fun begins...
rest assured, many beverages disappeared.

Anyway, good enough for now.
More later.

Wow, Nov 10.

That was my last post.  Crap, I should go back to blogsnot. 'Cept I hated it. Anyway, I been busy lately on this stuff;

OK, apparently, typepad does not support ADOBE, so no thousand hour patch for you people.  I'll figure out a way to post it eventually.

Here's what the mugs look like;

 

LDM on the handle stands for League of Disgruntled Majors. And yeah, the mugs are black for a reason. This is in the O'Club at MCAS New River.  It's one of the few traditional Officer's Clubs left in any service you can find.  Hell, we still have a dice table.  It gets used too. 

Job search continues.

Keep your powder dry.

Smokin

Happy 233rd

Happy Birthday Marines!

As is the custom, from the 13th Commandant:

On November 1st. 1921, John A. Lejeune, 13th Commandant of the Marine Corps, directed that a reminder of the Corps be published by every command, to all Marines throughout the globe, on the Birthday of the Corps. Since the day, Marines have continued to distinguish themselves on many battlefields and foreign shores, in war and peace. On this Birthday of the Corps, therefore, in compliance with the will of the 13th Commandant, Article 38 United States Marine Corps Manual, Edition of 1921, is published as follows

"On November 10, 1775, a Corps of Marines was created by a resolution of the Continental Congress. Since that date many thousands of men have borne that name Marine. In memory of them it is fitting that we who are Marines should commemorate the Birthday of our Corps by calling to mind the glories of its long and illustrious history. The record of our Corps is one which bear comparison with that of the most famous military organizations in the world's history. During 90 of the 146 years of its existence the Marine Corps has been in action against the Nation's foes. From the Battle of Trenton to the Argonne, Marines have won foremost honors in war and in the long era of tranquility at home generation after generation of Marines have grown gray in war in both hemispheres, and in every corner of the seven seas so that our country and its citizens might enjoy peace and security. In every battle and skirmish since the Birth of the Corps, Marines have acquitted themselves with the greatest distinction, winning new honors on each occasion until the term "Marine" has come to signify all that is highest in military efficiency and soldierly virtue. This high name of distinction and soldierly repute we who are Marines today have received from those who preceded us in the Corps. With it we also received from them the eternal spirit which has animated our Corps from generation and has long been the distinguishing mark of Marines in every age. So long as that spirit continues to flourish Marines will be found equal to every emergency in the future as they have been in the past, and the me of our nation will regard us as worthy successors to the long line of illustrious men who have served as "Soldiers of the Sea" since the founding of the Corps."

Nowhere near done yet, see some of the newly minted badasses here.

Semper Fidelis

Smokin

composure regained

Four cases of Bud Select and 200 rounds of .30-06 later, I can speak rationally again.  I hear the talk of unity and healing and coming together behind Obama, the country is leaning left and it's time for everyone to get on board. 
 That's a trip I'm not going to take.  I've done the Jimmy Carter ride.  In the uncensored words of the private from Apocalypse Now, " I ain't fuckin going!"  That moral compass does not point anywhere near to where I want to be, or I want my family to be in life.
  Hannity, Limbaugh and Ingraham haven't done enough.  It's time for this guy.

Download 535_Employees.wmv

  

New Super Hero? With retirement approaching, a potential role model/mentor at least.  I may dump the current wardrobe too.

Well...

I guess we know what my predictive powers are worth.    Dukey squat.
Enjoy your change dumb-asses.

Observations

I've done my own election polling.  I think mine is as good or better than the big boys.  I looked at yard signs and bumper stickers.   That's right, yard signs and bumper stickers.  Hear me out.  The MSM wankers are always on about who is getting polled, likely voters, registered voters, first time voters, with all the attending hand-wringing over who is getting it right.   To hell with that.  I think anyone willing to put a sign in their yard or a sticker on their car in today's climate is a "sucking chest wound voter", a voter who is going to go to the polls on bloody stumps if they have to.  So my poll has a confirmed target audience, a better sample if you will.  My poll is not weighted by voter registration where Acorn has fraudulently registered thousands of Democrat DooDad Pros and Little Bonny Foo Foos. Can you say fraud, projection and voter suppression?  That organization should be defunded and disbanned.

Secondly, my poll covers areas where the MSM is afraid to go.  Fly-over country.   In the last six months I've been in 16 states east of the Mississippi, and four west.  Specifically; NC, SC, Ga, Va, Md, Conn, NY Pa, OH, IN, Ill, BAMA,  Pa, Fl, WI, Tenn and KY.  West includes La, Okie, Ne and Mo.  One might assume that as a .mil pilot, I only go to military bases and so my sample would not be accurate since we're all knuckle-dragging gun-clinging Republicans.  That assumption is half wrong.  The type of flying we do dictates we go to a lot of civilian airfields, so I spend half my time out and about among non-knuckle-dragging gun-clinging humanoids.  A somewhat disheartening experience with all that man's inhumanity to man hogwash, but that's another story.  So I have 2 data points telling me my data is more accurate than Rassmussen's. 

What I saw was this;  Mac beats Obama ranging between 4-1 and 8-1 depending where you are.  Only in localized liberal pockets does Obama come close, and those are far apart.  In Cary NC, it's Mac by 3 - 2.  New Haven Conn is tied.  Only in ultra liberal dogholes like Chevy Chase MD does Obama trounce Mac by about 9 - 1.  The 2 McCain signs I did see were vandalized too.  

Between Raleigh and Jacksonville, it's McCain by 20 - 3.  One hundred and fifty miles of twenty to three.  Unless the whole state west of Raleigh goes retarded  overnight, Obama is not going to win NC. Anyone who says so hasn't left the Duke campus and is full of horse-squeeze. 

Anecdotally, I drove through SE NC, SC and into Ga in March for turkey season.  There were Hillary signs everywhere, a carpet bombing of Hillary signs, a fucking nightmare, ok.  In September I drove the same route.  No Hillary signs.  No Obama signs either.  Zero, Zilch, Nada.  400 miles of NObama.  So, to parse this; The south loves Hillary, a white liberal from Illinois who made her name as a politician from Arkansas.  The south hated John Kerry, a white liberal from Mass., wouldn't even support one of their own liberals (looking at you OwlGore).  Now they apparently don't support a black liberal from Chicago promising the world on a silver platter.  I DECLARE RACISM OFFICIALLY OVER IN THE SOUTH.  They don't care who you are, it's where you're from and maybe your ideas that count.

The wife recently spoke to a woman with a green card who wished she could vote.  Within the largely Roman Catholic immigrant population, Obama is regarded as a child murderer due to his support of late term and partial birth abortion.  She said the sentiment is unanimous among everyone she knows.   That's a big block to lose, Latino Catholics.

Florida as a battleground state?  There's at least 12 military bases in Florida and I know I'm missing one or two.  The DoD has pushed voting so hard this year that we've done everything but check the box for people.  A significant number of active duty claim Florida or Texas residency for tax purposes and will vote absentee.  Our squadron has passed out over three hundred of the forms.  I've never been in any unit where that was done before.  This program for absentee voting is a DoD program, so this level of getting out the vote is supposed to be happening across all the services

Florida doesn't even open up absentee ballots unless it's close, but I guarantee you, there's going to be a metric assload of them this year.  If the margin is a hundred thousand on Tuesday night, Florida is probably going to have to open them up, and that will be a can marked whup-ass in large block letters.

One three letter word, National Rifle Association. 

Your solemn duty is near America.  I leave you with this;

Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!

You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German  Democrat war machine, the elimination of Nazi   liberal tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, America and security for ourselves in a free world. Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle hardened. He will fight savagely. But this is the year 2008! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory! I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.

SIGNED: Dwight D. Eisenhower

God Bless you and God Bless America, Napalm and Lockheed Martin.

UPDATE: I just found this Rev Manning sermon.  It's from Pat Dollard and 22 minutes long, but worth every second.  That this type of sermon is going on in any black church is unexpected...most unexpected.  If this is going on in other churches, as Rev Manning has apparently asked for and coordinated with other pastors to do, it points towards one end.  Obama - fini.

Email from Cuz

Got this from the Cuz today.  Funny and true, as far as the .mil friends go.  Have a laugh and enjoy.

FRIENDS: Tell you not to do something stupid when drunk.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will post 360 degree security so you don't get caught.

FRIENDS: Call your parents Mr. and Mrs.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Call your parents drunk as hell and tell them about the fat chick you tried to pick up.

FRIENDS: Hope the night out drinking goes smoothly, and hope that no one is late for the ride home. MILITARY FRIENDS: Know some wild shit will happen, and set up rally points and an E & E route.

 FRIENDS: Bail you out of jail and tell you what you did was wrong.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will be sitting next to you saying, "Damn, we fucked up. But hey, that shit was fun."

FRIENDS: Cry with you.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will laugh at you and tell you to put some vagasil on your vagina.

FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few days then give it back.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Steal each other's stuff so often nobody remembers who bought it in the first place.

FRIENDS: Are happy that someone picked up a one night stand and leave them alone.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will low crawl naked into the room with a camera and hope for the tag team.

FRIENDS: Know a few things about you.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Could write a book with direct quotes from you.

FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that's what the crowd is doing.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will kick the whole crowds ass that left you.

FRIENDS: Would knock on your door.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Walk right in and say, "I'm home!"

FRIENDS: Will try and talk to the bouncer when you get tossed out of the bar.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will man up and go after the bouncer for touching you on the way out.

FRIENDS: Will wish you had enough money to go out that night, and are sorry you couldn't come.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will share their last dollar with you, drag you along, and try to steal free drinks all night.

FRIENDS: Will take your drink away when they think you've had enough.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will look at you stumbling all over the place and say, "Bitch, you better drink the rest of that shit, you know we don't waste. That's alcohol abuse!"

FRIENDS: Want the money they loaned you back next week.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Can't begin to remember who owes who money after taking care of each other for so long.

FRIENDS: Will say "I can't handle Tequila anymore".
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will say, "Okay, just one more." And then two minutes later they will say, "Okay, just one more!"

FRIENDS: Will talk shit to the person who talks shit about you.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will knock them the fuck out!

FRIENDS: Will tell you that they would take a bullet for you.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will actually take a bullet for you.

FRIENDS: Will ignore this.
MILITARY FRIENDS: Will forward this to all their friends.

It occurs to me I haven't had or retained contact with nearly any civilian friends from my pre-mil days.  That's over 19 years ago.  One or two have emailed after the reunion, but that didn't last long.  I have a longer established relationship with Tammi and QW than I do with my High School chums.  That should be sad.  (And probably a little creepy for Tammi and QW) A big reason is because the immediate Fam relocated the same time I left for school, so there is a big disconnect there, but still, I grew up with those morons.  Time and distance I guess. BUT, I know I can call Mike out of the blue and with full confidence, show up on his doorstep, drag him to every bar in San Diego and end up in chairs on his front porch at sunrise.  His wife would likely only be mad if she wasn't invited.  He has offspring now so things may be a little tighter at Casa De Mikey, but my point remains.  It's about trust and confidence.  You civilians, you're doing it wrong.  Maybe you just face too high a cost for getting it wrong, end result is the same.  In my mind, there should not be this much of a quick-disconnect between fellow Americans. Between people raised in this country, and people who serve this country.  Barn raising days are over but that should not mean you have free license to be an asshole.  American citizens today look at each other through a lense of political correctness and defend or abandon each other based on opinions aired by people like the shit-heads on "TheView".  What a disservice.  What a disgrace.  Pardon me while I light a cigar and pee off my back porch and say "Fuck Whoopie, and everybody like her".  Whoopie and Joy Behar who together are incapable of changing spark plug, but would be more than happy to talk behind the back of a person they paid to do it.  Respect cannot be taken or demanded, it must be earned, and the first step in earning respect is giving a little to start with.

By Shawshank standards, I must be institutionalized.  I'd say we're in for interesting times but at this point I really hate that saying.     

Your Car Bling...

Cool.

The rest of your rig...

...not so much.

Seen today driving east on NC 24, dude #1 wearing driving gloves.  OK, I wanted a pair, when I was 16, and had an MG, and my hair was parted in the middle, and Blondie was still in top 40's rotation.
  Old boy was mid thirties and driving a Ford Escort, about late 80's vintage, wearing leather driving gloves with the big hole over the back of the hand. In a Ford Escort.

 In less than 3 miles came dude #2, driving an early 90's white Ford mini-van, with flames.  Not just around the semi-hood engine area, but sprouting from two more strategic locations down the side.  DUDE. MINI-VAN. FLAMES. DUDE.

 Then came the ubiquitous hunting rig that one cannot "swing a dead cat" without hitting between October and January in eastern NC.  The "Custom" camouflage paint job.  The one with a spray can base of camo green over which they hand hold leaves, pine branches and various stuff to over-spray the highlights.  Reminds me of this IowaHawk-worthy rig I spied last year in Ga.

I blame the local water table around Jacksonville, the one contaminated with 40 years of dry cleaning solvent. It's the only explanation.

You can't tell from this angle and the tree, but this truck had a makeshift crane with a boat winch.  Those aren't "rims" either as kids today know them, those are your daddy's old school five spoke Cragars.  I took half a butt-load of these picks a few years ago.  If I can get enough this year, I'd like to do a spread of modern old south.  The more time I spend down there, the more the place grows on me.  My family has hidden my Jeremiah Johnson DVD.  

  With the approaching demise of the #8LaykoLabattsBlueBenelliTrojanMagnumCondumGMC, I briefly considered renting a Dodge crew cab with a Hemi for a month, just to round out the full experiment.  Somebody slap me.   QW, I'll probably be emailing you sometime early in 09.