A Great Big Hearty “FUCK YOU” To One Member Of The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department

So there I was.

Zero-Dark-Thirty this morning.

In my big rig on I-70, downtown Indianapolis, raining, dark, 5 lanes heading east.

Doing like Ben Franklin said...minding my business.

I’m in the middle lane going about 57mph in a left-curving portion of the interstate.

The posted speed limit is 55mph.

(I am a rebel.)

There is a six-foot tall concrete dividing wall separating the eastbound side from the westbound side.

Ahead of me in my lane I see a Conway doubles rig putting along at about 50mph.

I kick on my left blinker, check my mirrors and see nothing behind me to my left, and proceed to move around the Conway rig.

About halfway through my maneuver, I see a set of headlights in my mirror suddenly appear around the divider wall in the lane to which I’ve almost completely moved.

I realize there’s no sense in trying the whip back over to the lane I was in, seeing as I would have had to lean into the binders pretty hard on wet pavement to miss Conway…and homie wasn’t about to do that…and the speeding headlights I saw still had one other lane to my left to safely get around me.

But he was closing the gap very quickly.

Too quickly, especially for the conditions.

So I gassed it a little more to get around Conway and create some space between Speed Racer and myself, and as the speeding car now in the far left lane got closer, he kicked on his high beams…and his driver’s side door pillar spotlight!

It was a fucking cop!

IMPD’s finest.

As the cop overtook me and passed me, he adjusted his spotlight so that it constantly shined directly into my driver’s side mirrors.

When he was at a position to where he could no longer shine his spotlight into my mirrors, he adjusted his spotlight again so that it shined directly into my face!

Nice professionalism, Porky.

Motherfucking pig had to be going 65mph in a 55mph zone…at night in the rain…got all road-raged because a mere mundane dared to impede his forward progress, and he decided to play flashlight tag with a fucking semi!

Let me give you a little tip, you worthless fucking scrote.

If you’re in such a big fucking hurry because you are on an emergency run, turn on your god damned disco lights.

I would have seen their reflection long before I saw your headlights, and I would have given you the space you apparently so desperately needed.

You didn’t turn on your disco lights because you were not on an emergency run.

You acted like a complete asshole because:

-The hot light at Krispey Kreme was on.

-It was the end of your shift, and you were in a hurry to get home to shoot your dog and beat your wife.

-You and yours operate by one set of rules…doing whatever the fuck you want…while we peasants must operate by another.

And another thing…if my driving errors were so egregious to the extent that you felt it necessary to fuck with me, why the hell didn’t you pull me over and cite me?

I’ll tell you why.

It’s because you are a lazy fucking coward.

You didn’t want to get out of your car and get wet, but you wanted to show your ass and prove to a hard-working taxpayer just who the fuck was in charge.

Fuck you, pal.

I wasn’t intimidated.

I didn't piss my pants.

I wasn’t scared of you. 

I didn't slow down either. 

I wasn’t impressed, and I showed you who was the bigger man by not retaliating in kind.

I didn't brake check you, swerve at you, flash my high beams at you, or honk my horn at you because I am an adult and a man.

You cannot say the same because you are a punk with a badge. 

I wish you had pulled me over.

I wish you had cited me.

You’d have gotten a fucking earful.

I god damn guarantee it.

And you would have seen me in court also.

That I god damn guarantee as well.

Let me tell you something else, fuck-face.

There’s a whole lotta law-abiding motherfuckers out here who are tired of your shit.

Yet, you and yours cry and bitch about not getting any respect or courtesy.

That shit is a two-way street.

You get what you give.

One of these nights, you may get your tit caught in a wringer, and the only motherfucker out there at that time of night to lend you a hand in a timely manner just might be me or another cat like me.

We might help you.

We might not.

It’s pretty much up to you.

Fuck you anyway.

Cunt.

 
Paul Johnson
-Indianapolis







Wolverines!

Movies You Might Enjoy

As I have said on many occasions, life is too short for bad cinema. 

I have obviously spent an inordinate amount of time recently watching movies on Netflix.

So...in order to save my valuable readers (both of you) time and regrets, I've narrowed it down a little.

The following are a few flicks which stand out in my sick twisted opinion.

I start with the Netflix overview, then I give my thoughts and a clip of the movie.

Enjoy!

_____

My Way- This fact-based wartime drama follows two young men, one Korean and one Japanese, whose athletic rivalry ends with the start of World War II. Captured by the Soviets, both men escape but are separated, only to meet again in the D-Day invasion.

The Koreans seem to be putting out some cool flicks.  This one rocks!  The combat scenes are epic and brutal, and the realistic special effects are on par with anything Hollywood can dish out.  Subtitles, of course, but the shit these guys go through makes it worth watching.  You'll be satisfyingly exhausted after seeing this movie.

Dead Snow- A group of Norwegian friends get the scariest history lesson of their lives during a weekend getaway to the snowy town of Øksfjord, where the party is interrupted by throngs of Nazi zombies who once occupied the area. Armed with a machine-gun-equipped snowmobile, the gang fights for survival in director Tommy Wirkola's quirky horror, shot on location in the mountains of Norway. The film had its U.S. premiere at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival.

I don't normally dig zombie movies, but this one was pretty good.  Dark and humorous.  Again, subtitled, but who cares?  You have zombie SS soldiers getting whacked, humans being eviscerated, skulls split open by hand, and brains being eaten. What's not to like?

The Grey- After narrowly surviving a deadly plane crash in the Alaskan wilderness, a band of oil riggers must fend for their lives in the ice and snow. But thanks to wolves that view their presence as a threat, they aren't alone.

This was pretty fucking intense.  I've always enjoyed cold-weather survival stories ever since I read Jack London's "To Build A Fire" way back in junior high school.  You will jump outta your seat and shit yourself during this flick, and this movie will make you want to carry nothing less than a bazooka when on walk-about where wolves might exist.

The Front Line- When a South Korean commander is killed by a friendly bullet during a cease fire, investigator Kang Eun-Pyo's trail leads him to a remote hill region. There, a once-meek 20-year-old and his small company seem to be fighting a different war.

Another great piece of cinema from Korea.  Subtitles, but you will hardly notice.  Fantastic combat scenes with lots of M1 Garands and some Mosin/Nagant sniper stuff.  The futility and stupidity of war personified...

Play Dirty- Tasked with leading a band of dangerous mercenaries into the African desert to destroy German fuel reserves during World War II, inexperienced British army Capt. Douglas (Michael Caine) must contend with a cantankerous veteran colonel (Nigel Green), an argumentative ex-convict (Nigel Davenport) and a traitorous brigadier (Harry Andrews). Directed by André De Toth, this action-packed war drama co-stars Daniel Pilon and Patrick Jordan.

An oldie but a goodie.  Classic British cinema with proper English usage and pronunciation coupled with typical UK cynicism and skullduggery.  A perfect example of why I love the Brits...charming as they slit your throat.  The buggers...

Hell On Wheels- Former Confederate soldier Cullen Bohannon seeks his wife's killer as post-Civil War America struggles to rebuild its identity. His quest traverses the history of Reconstruction, peopled with railroad bosses, emancipated slaves and immigrants.

A very well-done mini-series.  Lots of violence, revenge, and big-bore black powder mayhem. A few bits of probably unrealistic PCism, but overall not detracting from the totality of the series.  Watch all of the episodes and await patiently for the next season.  Hopefully.

The Devil's Double- Dominic Cooper stars as Uday Hussein -- Saddam Hussein's depraved, decadent elder son -- and as Latif Yahia, the army lieutenant forcibly drafted to be his body double, in this drama based on Yahia's autobiographical novel.

Damn.  Some serious violence here, and not for the squeamish.  Great story.  What a shit-hole Iraq was/is.  Almost makes me think the 2003 invasion was worth it after all.  Almost.  I found myself wanting to see a recreation of the demise of Saddam's sons, but it doesn't happen in this movie.  Watch it anyway.

Dead Man's Shoes- Richard comes home from the army bent on revenge against the local gang of dealers and thugs that brutalized his mentally disabled brother, Anthony. Richard terrorizes the bullies, who begin to turn on one another as he eliminates them one by one.

Holy shit!  A fantastic story of creative revenge, only possible by the sick twisted and evil genius Brits.  That's why I love 'em.  The cunts.

He Was A Quiet Man- Cubicle worker Bob is a resentful outsider who's started carrying a gun in case he gets the courage to use it on some of his co-workers. But when one of those co-workers starts shooting, Bob guns him down and becomes an inadvertent hero.

We've all been there.  Maybe.

To End All Wars- Inspired by real-life events, this drama explores the experiences of Capt. Ernest Gordon and other Japanese prisoners of war enlisted to build the Railroad of Death. As the men struggle to maintain their sanity and will, they begin to drift apart.

A modern "Bridge Over The River Kwai."  Jack Bauer gets the shit beaten out of him numerous times.  This movie will make you wanna nuke Hiroshima and Nagasaki all over again, but Japan said they were sorry...and we are all bestest buddies now...so I guess we'll forget all about it.

The Veteran- When he returns home from Afghanistan, troubled vet Robert Miller finds himself embroiled in another war in his violence-ridden housing complex. Soon, he becomes fixated on taking down brutal gangsters who may have ties to a suspected terrorist cell.

Another Brit revenge scenario...kinda like "Death Wish," only more graphic, and Paul Kersey gets "slotted" in this one, but not before he does a one-man frontal assault right straight-the-fuck through a UK ghetto.  Good drills, mate!

White Irish Drinkers- In a blue-collar Irish section of 1970s Brooklyn, brothers Danny (Geoff Wigdor) and Brian Leary (Nick Thurston) come of age in a family dominated by their longshoreman father, Patrick (Stephen Lang), whose hard-drinking leaves them scrambling for a way out. As delinquent Danny and dejected mom Margaret (Karen Allen) take the brunt of Patrick's assaults, aspiring artist Brian hides his dreams. But desperate acts will threaten them all.

I love flicks like this.  Drunk, violent, crazy motherfuckers getting into shit way over their heads.  You will thank the good Lord you are not prickish like some of the characters in this movie. Interesting soundtrack too.

Rise Of The Footsoldier- Football hooligan Carlton Leach's reputation for violence wins him a position as a foot soldier in the feared Inter City Firm gang, where he eventually rises to become one of the most powerful crime lords in England.

Fuck me if I don't love movies depicting the Brits as constant drinking brawling assholes who take no shit and start it at the drop of a hat.  God bless 'em!  Sometimes I think this world could use more of them.  Or not...

Jerry And Tom- Easygoing family man Tom (Joe Mantegna) -- used-car salesman by day, mob enforcer by night -- shows his brash co-worker Jerry (Sam Rockwell) the ropes of contract killing. Soon the young apprentice not only gets the hang of it but begins to enjoy killing strangers for money. For his directorial debut, Saul Rubinek assembled a formidable supporting cast that includes William H. Macy, Ted Danson and Charles Durning.

An oldie, but I had never seen it before.  Great cast.  Dark and funny.  Creative (and non-chalant) methods of clipping a fool are depicted here.  All I could find on YouTubes was a foreign language clip, but here is a link to an English version.

Mosin Nagant 91/30 Front Barrel Band: Who's Got One In Their Pocket? Now With Video Update! Wow!

How one little hunk of Soviet steel can whip the capitalist dog's ass

Yes.

I fucked up.

I bought a Mosin/Nagant (1943 Izzy) a while back thinking it would be cool to put an ATI synthetic stock on it.

Now...some ATI synthetic stock users say it's a simple drop-in for Mosins, some say not so much.

And to be fair, ATI clearly states in their advertising that some fitting may be required.

In my case, some fitting was required...and some fucking skills on my part were definitely required...and unfortunately, not present.

I'm neither a woodworker nor a detail man.  Nor am I  patient.  If I can't fix shit with a wrench or a 12 lb. sledgehammer, I'm lost.

Anyhoo...when I took the wood furniture off my Mosin, I had to take off both barrel rings.

The rear-most ring is larger than the front, and it easily slides over the front sight and off the rifle.  

The front ring is too small to fit over the front sight without using some kinda spreader tool.

(Or, one can remove the front sight.  Yeah...right!  I knew for a fact I would fuck THAT up royal and end up needing the services of a gunsmith to fix all the damage, costing me more than the rifle was worth.  No dice.) 

Well...I figured I wasn't gonna need that front barrel ring again seeing as my Mosin was gonna drop into my new ATI stock like buttered shit through a goose no problemo.  

Right? 

So what does fuck-head Zoomie do?  

He takes his trusty set of bolt cutters and zaps that Commie piece of spring steel in about half-a-second.  

Ping!  

That shit flies off the rifle and across the garage...destroyed and useless forever.  

Mr. Persuasion. my little friend.  Come to Papa!

Guess what?  

My Mosin was not a drop-in.  In fact, I fitted that motherfucker like...well...like a motherfucker!  I fitted that shit so much that I fitted too much.  

I had a pile of plastic shavings 2 inches deep on my workbench.  I butchered that piece of synthetic to the point that I was embarrassed at myself. 

Through a series of hidden washers and other dirty tricks, I managed to get the Mosin into the stock so it looks presentable to the untrained eye and seems to function check properly.  

The Mosin moves up and down a little bit inside the stock, though.  

I am not happy, and my happiness is of paramount importance.

I am so unhappy I have never even fired the thing.

A stock ruined, and $80 pissed away.

Fuck.  

Looks good, don't it?

Now...I can live with a lot of "engineered" stuff in my life.  God knows I do, because I am a cheap bastard.  

But not a jury-rigged firearm.  

I can't deal with that.

This is the kinda shit that keeps me up at night.

Yes.  I have issues.

So...I have decided I'm gonna cut my losses, assemble a usable/reliable weapon, and convert my Mosin back to its original, shoulder-fracturing configuration.  I will strip and refinish the wood and make it beautiful like I did my sons' Mosins.

Guess who needs a front barrel band now?

Dammit.

I have located a couple of intardnets sources...six bucks and I'm golden.

Time to break out the Visa card.

Apparently.

Shit.

To conclude...let this be a lesson to you all.  

Learn from my mistakes.

Know your limitations.

Don't be a dumb-ass. 

You're welcome.

This will be me soon.  Fuck yeah!

Yes. I know I sound like a Hoosier hill-rod.

Sue me.

It is finished!

Thanks to BuyMilSurp.com for the prompt service.

"Special Dark"....far left, and some of her relatives.

Nephew Returns To The Land Of The Great PX From Asscrackistan!

He is in the great state of Texas now.

We are all very happy and thankful for his safe return.

Thanks for the prayers and support.

There will be epic parties with booze and guns and drugs and cops and hookers and fire trucks.

What's All This Hub-Bub...

...about armored vehicles?

Neither eye nor ear protection!  That's dangerous!

Who knew 55 gallons of Hi-Test Texaco had HE/armor-piercing properties?

And why does Kojak's .30 cal. sound like that?

Is it a groovy real-world custom one-off hand-fabricated suppressed Browning .30 caliber machine gun?

I dunno, but we're gonna need cats like Kojak if tanks and armored cars are on our streets.

Like that could ever happen...

Anyhoo...I seem to recall being taught something in boot camp about a Hell-Bomb, but damned if I can remember exactly what it was.

Where's my Guidebook For Marines?

I never throw anything away.  

I know I have it here somewhere.

Getting old and forgetful is hell.

Shit.

Never mind.

I'm gonna take a nap.

Wolverines!

NASCAR, Indy, and Respect

The NECKCAR turds came-a-calling to my beloved Indianapolis Motor Speedway recently.

Them good ol' boys like to play that they have a deep respect for the Citadel Of Speed.

They wax poetically about their reverence for its history and tradition.

But what they say...and what they actually do...are two completely different things.

It's kinda like this:

Imagine YOUR teen daughter is dating a guy, and while the two of them are sitting in YOUR home...on YOUR couch...in YOUR living room...he tells you how much he respects and admires YOUR daughter...all the while having his hand up her skirt.

Knuckle deep.

Jimmy Johnson needs to reconsider parking his sled crossways on MY racetrack with his nose up against MY wall and then doing a disgusting and defiling and desecrating burnout on MY sacred bricks. 

Hey Jimmy.

Your hero and four-time Indy 500 winner Rick Mears never did any shit like you pulled Sunday.

He had too much class.

Fuck Jimmy Johnson.

Fuck Hendrick Motorsports.

Fuck NECKCAR. 

Some of you might be saying, "But...but...but...Zoomie!  You are being a classless boob yourself by using coarse language and cussing out the premier NECKCAR team in a public forum.  You are a hypocrite!"

Yeah...maybe.

Whatever.

But this is MY house, and I can say whatever the fuck I want here.

You don't like it, you can get the fuck out. 

NECKCAR can do the same fucking thing. 

Stay off MY bricks.

Assholes.

My Nephew

Just got word my nephew, who is an Army medic in AssCrackistan and got hit by IEDs twice and shot at (and survived intact) on the same day just prior to Independence Day, lost six of his unit killed in another IED attack a couple of days ago.
 

I spoke to his parents at my July 4th party.  

I was semi-sober and angry.

What else is new...right?

Anyhoo...this is what I told my nephew's folks:

Any (honorable) way you can, convince him to get his narrow ass home ASAP.  

He and his buddies are getting fucked up and killed for nothing but bankers, Wall Street, and the free flow of opiates and oil and arms.  

He's not protecting me or defending the United States.  

It's all bullshit, just as my service in GW1 was.  

My eyes are open now, and I have learned a lot these last ten years or so.  

He should be home, married to some sweet young thing, making babies, and working a good job.

Get him out of that fucking Army!

The young lad's folks seemed to pretty much agree with me.

They said they think the luster of the Army has worn off for the young man.

It was ironic that the last time I spoke to him was at Easter (...or was it Thanksgiving?), and he was all fired up and gung-ho about going over-seas.

I was horrified.

(I mentioned this to my wife, and she said, "You were the same way for Desert Storm."  I said, "I know, but I was a young dip-shit at the time!")

I told him to be careful about what he wished for, take care of himself and his troops, don't volunteer for shit anymore, and get himself home ASAP.

Yes.

I am the angry, cynical, hypocritical uncle.

He's a bright kid and extremely motivated, and has very much impressed me these last few years after graduating high school and since enlisting.

He has a promising future ahead of him.

I just hope to God he survives this fucked up bullshit to enjoy it.

Please...if any of y'all are the prayin' type, please send a few my nephew's way.

Thanks.

Godspeed, nephew.

You are in my thoughts daily.

And Now...A Word From Our President On This Independence Day Holiday...(and some other stuff)

BTW...the stick-figure man above is the extent of my free-hand artistic abilities.

Most of what you fine folks see here is shit I've stolen and adapted and manipulated for my own use.

I am so ashamed...

 

I present the following with apologies to DC Comics, Sergeant Rock, and Russ Heath...

Right click, open it in a new tab, and expand it to get the image in all its intended glory.

Doing all that shit kinda blows...I know.

A good concept poorly executed...

I suck.

Number One Son Graduates High School And Makes Dad Look Like A Genius!

I can fuck you up in any number of ways.  Just give me a second to get out of this goofy outfit first!

Number One Son graduated from his high school yesterday.

Seventh in his class of approximately 200…

One of those moments in life where I think all the constant nagging from my wife and I (parenting) has paid off.

One of those moments that make me think, “Fuck!  He actually listened to some of the shit I told him!”

I have often told him and his brother and sister to NOT do what I did.

"Study.  Work hard.  Don’t half-ass anything you do.  You are responsible for you, and you have nobody to blame but yourself for your failures.  Educate yourself and learn a skill that will allow you to earn a decent living.  Nobody owes you a living."

I am so proud of him the buttons on my shirt are popping off like an M-16 on full auto.

His good grades seemingly came easy for him. 

Math subjects like algebra and calculus, which, in ancient times caused my brain to shut down and my eyes to glaze over in glorious stupidity, were no great problem for him.

Finite math was another story, apparently, and he had to devote some actual study time to pass this course.

When I attempted finite math, I smoked bowls on the walk to class and arrived thoroughly baked.  I eventually dropped the course in order to avoid receiving my well-deserved F.

There’s a reason they call it “dope”…

I told all my kids early on that it would behoove them to learn Spanish as the country was being over-run, and having this skill would most likely end up being beneficial for any number of reasons.

Number One Son also excelled in Spanish language, although I have rarely heard him speak a word of it around me unless it was a Spanish curse word of some sort.

I think this is because I’ve always encouraged my kids to speak “American” at home, and that I constantly ask them to report to me any devious goings-on of their Commie-loving, Chavez-nut-gargling, Castro-ass-kissing, Che-worshipping Spanish teacher.

I REALLY hate that bitch.

Anyhoo…after years of prodding and listening to me tell him how NOT to do things, (and that there was basically no way I was going to be able to fund a college education for him), Number One Son decided to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and pursue the computer field.

No dumb shit like truck-driving for him…

He will be attending the local satellite office of Purdue University.

He received a small education scholarship or two, and took out a student loan in his own name.

Apparently, these facts, according to some, make my son and I members of the tax-devouring Free Shit Army, and we are to be despised and loathed by all true and real American patriots.

I dunno about all that. 

He earned the scholarships with his good grades, and he will repay his loans through working while/after attending school.

So…therefore…I don’t give two stinking shits what anybody says about my son and I being leaches on the system.

Fuck you anyway.

Besides all that, I taught him to shoot at an early age.

Another lesson from me he took to heart…

He is a crack shot with a handgun and a rifle.

He can fuck up your world with lead, and, someday, with computers…a frightening combination.

Yes.

I am a bad dad.

Congratulations, son.

Well done. 

I couldn’t be more proud of you.

The First Indiana Domesticated Terror-Fest Is Complete

So the Hoosier Terror festival is complete.

A pleasant time was had by all.

About a dozen total in attendance (by some who traveled great distances), graciously hosted and much appreciated, in a remote and secure area.

It is sufficient to say that I pity the fool who tries to infiltrate this particular compound.

Trusting friendships were created and strengthened.

Much cursing, smoking, sedition, and seriously frightening gun-play took place.

Not trying to brag, but I am most satisfied that I have seemingly not lost the rifle marksmanship skills taught to me by Uncle Sugar so many years ago.

It is also a comfort to know that those in attendance are as good, if not better, than I with a firearm.

Again, I thank all in attendance, and especially our host.

It has been a long time…20 years or more…since I have experienced that kind of camaraderie.

It felt good.

If you haven’t attended a Terror-Fest/PatCom, get it done folks.

You won’t be disappointed.

###

This is the Zoomie Hilton at the Indiana Terror-Fest.

It was fancy and comfortable.

Sorta.

Yes. I drive a bitch car, but it was filled with guns, ammo, a hatchet, a vintage WW2 E-tool, beer, and a dead battery.

So fuck you.

The first night a pack of rabid and terrifying coyotes ran through the perimeter yipping and howling and waking me up and sending shivers of unbridled fear down my aching spine which was cracking because I'm old and haven't slept on the ground in 20 years because I'm delicate and stuff.

Too bad KnuckleCutter wasn't there.  I hear he enjoys killing innocent fuzzy cute feral wildlife like coyotes.  KnuckleCutter is a horrifying domesticated terrorist out in California, so he probably wouldn't drive to Indiana to satisfy his carnal blood-lusts.

He's kinda lazy like that.

Maybe.

Some of those in attendance stated that they were surprised at my scrawny, emaciated, compu-geek appearance...and that they figured I'd be "bigger" because of my shitty attitude and mouthy, know-it-all intardnets presence.

Then I flexed for them and got all swoll and demonstrated a thing or two on the rifle range, and they kinda backed down and slowly moved away from me.

I guess I showed them, the big dopes.

I brought a mess of cold beer, but apparently patriots don't like beer too much these days, so only a couple of us drank any, which means more for me now...so it's all good.

A couple of guys tried to show me cool fire-starting shit, but I'm a city boy and pretty dumb sometimes, so I brought a Bic lighter and some sterno and had hot coffee any damn way.

Another cat knitted a groovy para-cord bracelet for me, so now I can strangle a Commie fool with it and nobody will know how I did it because a para-cord bracelet would never be suspected in a good old-fashioned Bolshevik throttling scenario.

This one dude, who was on Deep Purple's sound crew and a Marine all at the same time, showed me how to spot and dial in a scoped, high-powered rifle equipped with menacing attachments that curve up.

Or something.

He was an active duty type back in the old days, so he had a natural hatred for reservist pukes like me who skated all the time and got all the girls stateside while he risked his ass for me and everything good and beautiful and righteous and holy.

In spite of this, we got along famously.

Then there was this one person who plays it like he's just a regular Joe civilian maintenance man or something, but few know that he is a stone cold killer with a firearm....and he never got stupid and joined the military to learn this talent either.

No.  He did it on his own, on his own dime, and was not a tax-devouring government goon at any point in his life.

I saw him shoot the asshole out of many bulls-eyes with various and sundry long and short guns.

He is a natural.  He is frightening to me.  The authorities should be informed.

Maybe.

I probably shouldn't say much more about anybody else at this event, because they made it clear to me that if I fucked up their Operational Security by posting stupid shit and photos of them on the intardnets, they would slowly...and with much glee...gut me like a carp or field dress me and string me up in my own front yard.

Such an experience would be heinous and below average, so I had better shut up now.

Thanks again to all.  It was a pleasure and honor to spend the weekend with you.

Semper Fidelis.