11/7/08

So here’s what happened yesterday. I got up at, more or less, the usual time and came in to help my coverage guy set up the sound system for the Native American Heritage Day event. Tee hee, I didn’t have to stay for it! Go back to last November to see how I feel about the NAHD events. Short version, “I hate them.” So, we get the system set up and I have about two hours before I'm scheduled to be at the dentist. I show Jeff the Judge in the back of Darth Versa and then head out. Yeah, I brought it along since I planned to go shoosting after the dentist. Since I am so early, I decide to go ahead and go to the downtown courthouse and renew the plates on Mr. Wiggly. I call John along the way and ask what all he had to do to get the personalized plates in person. I was curious if I'd need any pre-printed paperwork. Apparently I did not. He asked what I was thinking of getting and I told him “WIGGLY.” I said I might still chicken out at the last minute so I'd let him know what happened. I didn’t get one of my usual parking spots right next to the courthouse, but I did happen upon one just a half a block away. I exhibited my less-than-stellar parallel parking prowess by taking about five wiggles to get the car where I wanted it, but the guy behind me was too far forward. I fed the meter a few coins and thus had an hour to get the job done. I walked across the street and into the courthouse. At the top of the stairs, two flights of thirteen steps each I might add which I found kind of odd but there was a Masonic dedication plaque by the door… where was I going with that? Oh right, at the top of the stairs I noticed that there was no line. I went to the front of the non-existent queue and was immediately called to a window. I handed her the insurance card and said I wanted to renew the plates on the Dodge Van. She called it up and got to work. I asked if I could get personalized plates at this time and was told, “Yes.” She pulled up that screen and asked what I wanted it to say. I told her “Double you, eye, gee. Gee, el, why, wiggly.” She giggled a bit and entered it. “You’re in luck,” she said. “That is available.” She did the rest of the paperwork and got me my temporary tags to use until I get the actual plates. So, now I have to put those Panasport wheels on and lower the thing! Woo hoo! I pass her the luke-warm check and head back out. I hop in Darth Versa but still have at least an hour and a half before my appointment. I decide to go to Elk Castle Gun Shop to look for a lever-action rifle in .45 Long Colt. See, I’ve always wanted a lever-action rifle and I figure I might as well get one that uses the same ammo as the Judge. I ask the sales dude what they have in the gun I'm looking for and he shows me a couple. One is a Marlin which is pretty nice. It seemed a little small but that isn't necessarily a deal breaker. The other was a gorgeous reproduction of an Old West rifle with gold colored receiver and butt-plate. It was a tad bigger than the Marlin but was also about $300.00 more. Sure was purty though. I decided I didn’t need to spend another $700.00 I don’t have on the Marlin either so I told him I was in the first stages of shopping. He recommended I look online and really make sure this is the gun in the caliber I want then come back to see him. I said I would. I shopped around a bit more and finally left for the dentist. I arrived about fifteen to twenty minutes early and started playing games on my Dingleberry. They called me in eventually and pre-numbed my mouth for the Novocain, or whatever it is they use now. After another wait, my sadistic dentist came in and jabbed a sewer pipe sized needle right into the nerve running through my tongue. I'm sure my leg shot straight up in the air when he did too. “Oh, got it that time, eh?” he laughed. Pretty soon I had floppy face and the hygienist took me across the hall for the actual barnacle removal process. She dug around with some sonic thing, which resonated through my skull, for a while. When she was done with that I mumbled, “I'll bet that really hurt.” She kind of grimaced and said, “Yeah, I really got down in there at one point. You might want to take some Ibuprofen before this wears off.” She continued with regular implements of torture for a while but I lost track of time. She surprised me when she said, “Ok, we’re all done here.” I made my next appointment for the top of my mouth and paid the bill. I went on home rather than to the gun range because I was feeling just a tad loopy at the moment. So loopy in fact that I agreed to go to lunch and Wal-Mart with mom! Lunch is normal, Wal-Mart not so much. We ate at Don Pablo’s and then went shopping. When we got home, I remembered what it was we originally went to Wal-Mart for, cat treats, and that we didn’t buy them. I took off, ostensibly, to buy cat treats but went back to the Elk Castle gun range instead. I told them I wanted to burn through some ammo and was directed to the range. I filled out the paperwork and grabbed “eyes and ears.” I loaded up a target, five rounds of range ammo, and shot. Oh hells yeah! How did I live forty three years without a Taurus Judge? That is such a cool little shoosting iron. As I said yesterday, it is a hell of a lot more accurate than I gave it credit earlier in the week. It is especially accurate with “STAY DOWN MOTHERFUCKER” self defense ammo. The “cowboy load” range ammo isn't too shabby, accuracy wise, but the more powerful hollow point “werewolf” ammo is hell-of accurate. Let me just say, I put three rounds in a pattern within the width of one and a half rounds and the other two were within an inch. Ok, so I may have taken a bit more aim time with the more expensive ammo, now that I think about it. The shotgun shells, while just about the funnest thing to shoost, are pretty much worthless out past three yards or so. I really need to acquire some 00 buckshot rounds and try them out. Birdshot might be fine as car defense ammo, but I don’t think I'd want it for home protection any more. Finally, I need to point out the fact that the “cowboy load” range ammo smokes like a mo-fo! I may have to find another range ammo for that gun. I have absolutely, not one single regret with regards to buying that gun. I love it. Even the heft has grown on me. I'm not nearly as sore today as I was Monday. Oh wait, I did drive Shichi on Sunday after shoosting. Perhaps there is a correlation there. In fact, I'm not sore at all today. Ok, so it probably was Shichi that hurt me Sunday. Well, it is so worth it! And on that note, I think I'll call the rant complete for the week. Toodles.