Part 5- My 2011 Indy Blog Mess: Paul Tracy Interview?

Today was a complete washout at IMS, so I thought I'd let you, my valued readers, in on something that may or may not be going on.

There is a real possibility that I could interview Paul Tracy this month at Indy.

Maybe.

The thing is, I'm a little hesitant to do it.

Maybe it's because I'm a pussy.

I don't know.

I don't want my interview with PT to be structured and rigid.

I want it to be mellow and relaxing, just two guys having a beer and cussing and talking racing and other stuff.

I don't want it to resemble work for either of us.

If it is to become a hassle or a pain in the ass, I'm not interested, but it could be a cool thing.

I understand PT's a busy guy with important shit to do.

I'm not in it to make PT look stupid or foolish. 

Hell...I'm willing to look stupid and foolish.  It's part of my schtick.

Anyhoo...here are some PT interview questions I came up with.  

Let me know what you think.

_____

-I read some of your Champ Car race history, and it seems as if Wally Dallenbach had a hard-on for you back in the old days.  Do you still want to punch him in the face? 

-Do you still want to kick Alex Tagliani’s ass? 

-Does the nickname "The Thrill from West Hill" piss you off?  I think it sounds a little gay personally, but what the hell do I know?  I bet you didn’t pick that nickname anyways…probably a dumb Canadian marketing "genius" did. 

-I’m not stalking you or anything, but I understand you have a couple of kids…Alysha and Conrad.  Are they teenagers yet?  I have three teen kids.  They’re pretty cool and smart, and I love them, but they are a trial sometimes.  Are your kids cool? 

-So...you live in Vegas or Arizona somewhere now?  Do you have a green card…and can I see it?  Are you like an honorary American now?  You speak American pretty good for a Canadian from Canadia.

-Since you’re in America now, you don't have to deal with stupid Canadian gun laws.  Most real Americans love guns and own lots of firearms.  Do you own any firearms, or do firearms frighten you? 

-When you were an unsavory wild youth in Canadia, did you go to Lakeside Park with your buddies and drink lots of Molson’s beer and chase hot Canadian chicks?

-Do you still celebrate Bastille Day even though you live in America now?

-Is July 4^th an annoyance for you? 

-How many times have you seen Rush live in concert?  Triumph?  The Jeff Healey Band?  Bachman Turner Overdrive?  April Wine?  Neil Young?  Pat Travers?

-What did your mom and dad do for a living?  Were they wealthy and did they spoil you rotten?  Or, did they make you get a job to help pay for your hobbies and all the other crap you wanted to do

-What kind of jobs, if any, did you have other than racing when you were a punk kid? 

-Do you have siblings? 

-What was your first street car when you first got your driver’s license? 

-Turning wrenches on your own crap is cool.  I know you have lots of toys now like hotrods and boats and shit.  Do you work on them yourself, or do you pay somebody else to fix your personal shit when it breaks?

-I think NASCAR really REALLY REALLY sucks...don't you? 

-A lot of people, like the seething-with-rage ChampCar fans, give you shit for when you said you would never drive a “crap-wagon.”  I really don’t give a damn because it was a long time ago and a man’s situations can change, and I think it’s OK for a guy to change his mind if he wants.  I figure that racing is what you love to do most, so screw what people say and follow what you love.  Your thoughts? 

-You and me are a lot alike, I think.  You are only six years younger than me.  We both are professional drivers, and we both worked for Penske at some point in our illustrious careers.  I know Penske is kinda supposed to be like the top company to work for, and they have some pretty cool equipment for us to work with…but I still think they kinda sucked when I worked for them. 

Did driving for Penske kinda suck for you too? 

-I’m not going to bother asking you about the 2002 Indy 500 because that horse has been beaten to death and it was a long time ago.  All I know is I was watching the live timing and scoring that day and it originally showed you as the winner.  Even though everything that happened in 2002 must have really sucked for you, you continue to come back to Indy and give it a try.

 Hell…last year I watched as you almost killed yourself trying to get back into the field after withdrawing a good time and one of those asshole KV mechanics fucked up your transmission gearing ratios or something.

Did you ever kick that guy’s ass?

Does your wife ever want to kick your ass after seeing you almost kill yourself on a racetrack?

 

Part 4- My 2011 Indy Blog Mess: Opening Day Shennanigans

 

Curt Boggs Photo

I am never late to opening day at IMS, but I gotta pay the bills.

I arrived late at this Opening Day at IMS because I had to work. 

The National Anthem was playing as I drove the Georgetown Road tunnel under MY racetrack. 

I flashed my bronzed badge thingy to the underpaid yellow shirted government agents. 

I was pleasantly surprised by the light traffic.

I crested the hill of the tunnel road and immediately noticed that my convenient ingress to the third turn infield parking and party zone was blocked by that stupid fucking Hotwheels ramp thingy.

Curt Boggs Photo

Motherfuckers. 

This impediment to my parking spot is an improper and imprudent grave injustice…and it will not stand…for long…because I’m going to knock that stupid fucking thing down and get it out of the way and out of MY racetrack.

It looks ignant, and God knows there is enough ignant stuff to look at these days.

Anyhoo…I zig-zag around the Hotwheel thang and park the Paul Tracy Commemorative Beer Wagon. 

I power-slam a Coors real quick because I have issues, then I load up for the trip to the Vigoda Plaza.

As I am doing this, the track goes green for the first time.  The sounds of real and shiny and fast Indy cars fill my ears.  My heart soars.  I think to myself, “Damn…this has been a long and shitty winter!”

The permanent scowl on my face disappears…temporarily.

I get to the Vigoda Plaza and notice many vintage cars parked haphazardly everywhere.  This is because it has been declared that Opening Day will be a celebration of the automobile.

Or something.

Al Gore silently weeps.

Maybe.

Curt Boggs Photo

Then, I head out to my super-secret Turn One roost where I figure I will find some of my racin’ buddies who are camera dorks and wish they had my skills with an Instamatic.

My camera dork racin’ buddies have long, “go-to-hell” lenses for their fancy cameras.

I bet it’s because they are over-compensating for deficiencies elsewhere in their pitiful lives.

That’s what I think.

Anyhoo…there’s a big brew-up with much cursing and smoking and backslapping, and I really don’t pay much attention to what’s happening on the racetrack.  I’m too busy catching up with my bros and being a general embarrassment to them.

It was fun.

Pretty much…until I ran into Grover.

Fuck him!  He was all sheepish and stuff, and he wanted none of me.  My beer was safe.  For the time being…

My truck driver's back started screaming at me, as did my full bladder and empty stomach, so I strolled down to the Vigoda Plaza for a pee and a beer and a couple of overpriced horse-meat hamburgers.

There, I saw Lindy Thackston, who is a world-renown female version of a TV reporter for the Verses Network.  She is a broadcasting legend, and I told her so.

 

Paul Dalbey Photo

I told her that I thought she did great work on TV and that she came across as a knowledgeable fan and a corn-fed Indiana gal with a Hoosier twang who wasn’t a bimbo and didn’t go around having sex with IndyCar drivers.

And if you know me at all, you know that I would not say such things if I did not mean them sincerely.

She seemed appreciative, if not somewhat wary of me and my comments to her, and she slowly backed away.

She is a smart lady, who was raised by concerned parents.

Stay honorable, Lindy.

It wasn’t long before the rains came.

Rain don’t befront me none, as long as I get my rent money by next Friday.

So…it was time to stroll the garages for the first time to see what I could see.

I saw many Honda/Dallara/Firestones.   

That’s what I saw.

However, this is something else I saw…

Apparently, Chip Ganassi has more money than he knows what to do with, so he has formed a satellite Indy Racing team.

This outsourced proxy Ganassi team gets the junky broken parts that Dario Judd and Scott Dixon throw away.

Probably.

This is a team of mercenaries, and with Chip paying the bills, they apparently think they can do whatever the hell they please and get away with it.

They need to get up a little earlier to fool me, however.

When I saw them wheeling this Chevrolet engine block into their garage, I knew something was amiss.

I yelled at them.  Loudly. 

I said, “You can’t use that engine block!  That is against the engine lease program rules and stuff!  I’m tellin’!  I’m calling the cops!”

They were scared.

Part 3- My 2011 Indy 500 Blog Mess: Politics And Indy

cartoon by Gary Varvel

Well…lookie here…Donald Trump got his ass fired for driving the pace car!

Serves him right, the big dope.

The Donald said he had a scheduling issue and couldn’t do the pace car gig.

Yeah.  Right.

The fact that the Indy 500 faithful of all political persuasions were up in arms about your stupid ass defiling our sacred race had nothing to do with it.

The Donald is all about himself and about how much face time he can get and how much he can control shit.

Lord knows I’m no fan of President Obama, but Trump’s birth certificate witch-hunt was an infantile and ridiculous waste of time and a distraction.

Hell…even noted Canadian from Canadia, Paul Tracy, said it would be improper for a hack semi-political figure like Trump to drive the pace car at Indy.

This is one more reason why Paul Tracy is sorta cool.

We should make Tracy and honorary American.

Or something.

Maybe.

The Donald should forget all about running for president and go get the Freedom Tower built.

That’s what I think.

Anyhoo…it has been decided that AJ Foyt will drive the pace car this year.

This is prudent and proper.

Even though AJ is kinda old, he’s a tough bastard, and as long as he doesn’t have a thrombo, I think he is up to the task of pacing 33 of the fastest and finest drivers in the world.

AJ Foyt will probably have to go through a rigorous astronaut-like physical exam before he assumes his pace car driving duties on race day.

I’d hate to be the doctor who is tasked with that procedure.

In other news, seems as if there is some bitching going on about the new racing unit which will show up for next year’s racing season.

Spreading this hate and discontent is none other than Roger Penske, apparently.

I’m not real sure what Penske’s major malfunction is, but, whatever it is, it probably has something to do with HIS bottom line and what is best for HIM.

Screw the series, the rules, and the fans. 

Penske wants the power and the control, and he is spreading the hate and discontent to the other teams.

Roger and Donald Trump are a lot alike if you really stop to think about it.

The last time the open-wheeled racing team owners got all uppity, things didn’t turn out so swimmingly.

Maybe…just this once…Roger should just shut the fuck up and go along with the plan.

Hey Roger…I don't work for you anymore.  I'm a free man and I can say whatever I want.

Go manage your truck fleet.   

Buy some Freightliners.  Paint ‘em that gawd-awful yellow, and quit fucking with my racing.

Dick.

Sorta.

Bin Laden Is Dead: We Got Him

Hahahahahaha!   

Good riddance motherfucker.   

Hope you enjoy the unquenchable fires of hell.

That said, I’m not gonna go out into the streets chanting, “USA USA USA!” 

Fuck that.  It’s not my style.

Let’s move on to the next terrorist scum target.

“We” didn’t get anybody. 

Most of us “we’s” were sitting our collective somewhat fat asses on the couch eating Cheese Nips and watching TV when it all went down.

Navy SEALs got Bin Laden, and it pleases me to no end the way in which the SEALs dispatched the bastard.

No laser guided bombs from 50,000 feet. 

No Predator drones.

No.

It was up close and personal most likely.

A bullet to Bin Laden’s brain-pan delivered by a US sailor. 

Perfect. 

Before he drew his final bit of oxygen, Bin Laden probably was able to look into the determined eyes of that US sailor.

Maybe Bin Laden could even smell the coffee and stale tobacco smoke on that sailor’s breath.

Beautiful.

Perhaps the sailor even said a few smart-assed words to Bin Laden before he delivered the coup de grace.

Pure poetry.

They say Bin Laden’s carcass was brought back to the US Navy ship, and his ID was confirmed through DNA testing.

Then, Bin Laden’s room temperature corpse was reportedly given a respectful burial at sea according to Islamic traditions.

I don’t believe a word of this, but that’s just me.

I bet Bin Laden’s body is now in a freezer deep underground somewhere in Virginia…wearing lipstick and a lamp shade.

That’s what I think.

Part 2- My 2011 Indy 500 Blog Mess: Centennial Era Indy 500 Jamboree and Hootenanny

This year is the third year of the Centennial Era Indy 500 Jamboree and Hootenanny.

It’s party time in Indy, and if you know me, you know I like a good party with guns and booze and drugs and chicks and fire trucks and all the other things that make life worth living.

Yes. 100 years, give or take, of pants-wetting open wheeled excitement at the palace of speed.

I say, “Give or take,” because maths is hard for me.

Actually there were a few years from 1911 until now when the track was closed for wars because it was deemed improper and imprudent to gobble up petroleum products and other vital natural resources at alarming rates for the amusement of the general public.

During World War One, we were a little late to the party and we stepped in to smack the dog shit out of the Germans.  So…for 1917 and 1918, we did that instead of having races.

A few years later, the Germans and the Japanese got all uppity.   

We allowed them to have their fun for a couple of years, but then we put our foot down.   

From 1942 until 1945, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was silent while we went ruckus on the Germans and the Japanese.

Things are cool as fuck now, and we no longer have any problems with the Germans and the Japanese.  In fact, we are all the bestest of buddies and we share beer, girlfriends, and nuclear technology.

Can you imagine what would happen today if it were decided that we would not hold an Indianapolis 500 Mile Sweepstakes because we were having a war or three?

Or that because of a war or three, I-Pads and gasoline were not available, or that Dancing With The Stars would not be televised because it was deemed detrimental to morale?

There would be civil unrest and rioting in the streets.

It’s a good thing gasoline is cheap and plentiful.

Anyhoo…by my estimation, we are roughly six Indy 500s shy of one hundred.

Whatever.  I flunked just about every math subject known to man except for geometry, so who am I to complain about the “centennial” thing?

I understand there are going to be many different things going on in celebration of the “Centennial Era Indy 500 Jamboree and Hootenanny.”

Apparently, there will be a life-sized Hot Wheels track installed in the fourth turn infield.  

It will be several stories high and will include a big orange plastic loop-de-loop thingy which will most likely propel a full sized NeckCar pick ‘em up truck into the crowd causing grievous death and dismemberment.

Damn.  What a buzz-kill THAT will be…

I just hope this cheese-dick monstrosity publicity stunt doesn’t ruin my site lines from J-Stand on race day.  I will be extremely irate if it does.

Also, I heard Donald Trump is going to drive the pace car.

This too is a grave injustice and will not stand.

I’ve said it before.  The pace car should be driven by somebody cool like an ace fighter pilot or a former Indy 500 winner or somebody who is savvy.

The Donald may be savvy in getting shit done like building a skyscraper.  Hell…he would have had the World Trade Center rebuilt twice as tall 5 years ago…but he is not savvy or cool enough to drive the pace car at Indy.

 

Photo courtesy hamtramck-historical.com

Trump is bound to go all Eldon Palmer and fuck this up just like all wealthy douche bags fuck shit up when they get in over their heads.

Photo courtesy moparaction.com

I am right about this, and there can be no further discussion.

There might be other tourist attractions during the two weeks of May Centennial Era Indy 500 Jamboree and Hootenanny celebration, but quite frankly, I can’t be arsed to look them up because it would be ponderous.

I suggest Google for further information if you are so inclined. 

Part 1- My 2011 Indy 500 Blog Mess: Mailing It In?

Well…It’s May 1th again here in Indy, and it’s raining.  That means it SHOULD be time for them to open the gates of MY racetrack in order to entertain me.

Instead, the fast and shiny Indy racing machines are down in Brazil running on the twisty bits.

This is a grave injustice and will NOT stand!

But, what the hell can I do about it?

Nothing.  That’s what.

So…I guess I’ll start my 2011 Indy 500 Blog mess by stating that this year I’ll probably have to kinda mail it in.

Or something.

Maybe.

See…in the last year or so since we last met up, lots of sorta unsavory things have happened in my life that maybe you should know a little something about.

I will enumerate those things for you now.

1-   I shot a neighbor’s dog in self-defense.  It is a clammy tale.  You can read about it here if you want. 

2-   A grown-ass man attempted to do something heinous with one of my children.  If you should know one thing about me, you should know that I am fiercely protective of my family.  I will not delve further into this topic.  Suffice to say that I was homicidal.

3-   Due to political events and concerns that my country is being led purposely into the shitter by Communist progressive hippie ass-bags, I’ve become a rabid radical Libertarian Constitutionalist gun-owner.  I’ve been investing my disposable income in lead and lead accelerators in preparation for the upcoming apocalypse.

Thanks asshole

4-   I've had a new job since last September.  Therefore, I have no vacation accrued to burn.  Trust me. The job change weighed heavily on my mind because of this. Do I give up 4-5 weeks of paid vacation for the new gig and lose my ability to spend unreasonable amounts time at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway drinking alarming quantities of beer during the month of May? Yes. Yes I do. That's how much it sucked working for Teamster Penske. Ask Paul Tracy. He knows.

Anyhoo…many of my fans…both of them…have expressed displeasure and sadness that I will not be able to be trackside much this year.

Thanks all for your concerns, but I'm just a local douche with a camera and intardnets access. No great loss if I do an abridged version of my foolishness.
 
Don't worry about it. You'll be fine.

I'll probably get track-side once a week only. Sundays.

Maybe. 

I'm not even getting a bronze badge this year. Why bother if I'm only at the track about 2 or three times before race day?

The desire to do the blog thang is still there.
 
I'll think of something.

Even if it's wrong. 

Especially if it's wrong...like maybe getting a couple of my racin’ buddies, who don’t work much, and use them as if they were my unpaid mercenaries.  They could take cool, jaw-dropping photos and gather groovy insider stories and feed them to me so that I can embellish them and think up stupid crap to say.

Yes.  Zoomie’s Proxies.

There may or may not be some other special things in the works, but as a real kinda cool racin’ insider who knows how to keep his mouth shut, I can’t talk about it right now.

Stay tuned…

Hot Russian Twins Come Home With Me!

That’s right. I did it. Today I picked up two hot Russians…and they’re twins!

It was a mind-blowing experience.

First, I looked them over real close.

My eyes caressed every square inch of their curvy and well-oiled bodies.

Then, I ran my trembling hands up and down and all over them, and I felt their smooth lines.

Both of them responded eagerly and hungrily to my violation of their personal space.

They were perfect for my sick, twisted purposes.

I also took a peek inside them, and I was satisfied with what I saw.

Both moved smoothly and gracefully. I could tell by their actions that they were going to be a handful.

I didn’t care. I would die with a smile on my face.

I paid the agreed upon price and loaded the twins into my car for the short ride home, confident that many stimulating days and nights awaited me.

Yes! Twins! Russian twins. What could be hotter?

Nothing.

That’s what!

No…not this kind of Russian twins. Perverts.

Get your freaking minds out of the gutter.

This kind of Russian twins!

Because I sorta kick ass at work, I received another bonus check.

As I have so eloquently stated in the past, bonus money ain’t got no home, so bonus money goes to gun stores.

Pretty much.

Today I purchased two Mosin-Nagants for my sons from Indy Trading Post (ITP).

I have nothing but great things to say about ITP…fantastic sales people and reasonable prices.

I got what I think was a tremendous deal on my Mosins and a spam can of ammo (with opener). I will most definitely shop there again. Thanks again Brian Ludlow and crew!

You rock!

The first Mosin went to my youngest son Willie. It is a numbers matching hex receiver dated 1928.

The second Mosin went to my older son Ricky. It is a numbers matching round receiver dated 1941.

Both rifles come complete with accessory kits and spike bayonet.

Very cool.

Every teen boy should have a rifle with a bayonet.

That's what I think.

You should have seen how I played the gifting of the rifles.

First, I called Willie into the kitchen and acted like I normally do…all pissed off about something he did or did not do. I told him to sit his ass at the kitchen table.

Then, I reached out to the back porch and put his boxed Mosin on the table and told him great job on the last report card and happy early birthday!

He had a feces-eating, ear-to-ear grin on his mug, as he pulled the rifle out of the box and got Cosmoline all over himself.

Groovy!

Ricky was watching all this and getting jealous and disgusted, because he loves shooting also.

I said, “Ricky…you know the good thing about Mosins? They reproduce all on their own.”

I reached out to the back porch, grabbed the other boxed Mosin, and put it on the table.

“Great report card and happy early birthday,” I said.

He about pissed himself with excitement.

Then, I went out to my car and came back in the house and said, “Oh yeah. Mosins ain’t no good without plenty of food, so…here!”

Bang! Down goes a spam can of ammo.

My younger boy said, "Hey Dad. We're ready for the upcoming apocalypse now."

Kids say the darndest things.

Yes we are.

I have my own in-house fire team.

Now we gotta bone up on Mosins and get ‘em all cleaned up.

Range time!

Fire balls!

Vintage Soviet battle rifles in the hands of teen boys!

I am a bad dad.

_____ 

The restification of the 1941 round receiver Izhevsk Arsenal numbers matching Mosin is complete. 

It's not perfect, but what 70-year-old rifle is? 

It turned out OK in my opinion. I think it looks rather Mauser-ish. I don't like the original Commie, reddish/orange stain, so I went with a dark walnut color.

My oldest son Ricky seems to REALLY like the rifle. He works the bolt with a gleam in his eyes and a grin on his face, and he can't wait for some range time.

I'm now working on the other rifle...a 1928 hex-receiver Tula Arsenal, also numbers matching. From the looks of it, it will turn out better than the first rifle.

I'm thinking I need to get one for myself soon.

_____ 

I finished the restification of my younger son's #'s matching 1928 hex Tula a week or so ago, but today we finally got some great afternoon light so I could take a picture!

The front hand guard had some repair work I didn't discover until I had degreased and stripped it. It is a smooth quality repair, and seems sound. 

I found a few specks of rust on the outside of the barrel underneath the hand guards, but it cleaned up with oil and steel wool.

I think it looks sexy. My son seems pleased. They can't wait to go shooting.

Taurus 738 TCP Range Report And Review: M1 Garand Also Tags Along For A Test Drive

 

Since I kick ass and I'm sorta cool and stuff, I got a bonus check from work.

Everybody knows bonus money ain’t got no home, so I gave half of it to my darling wife, and the other half I decided to buy me a new .380 pocket rocket for the upcoming apocalypse.

I went to Beech Grove Firearms, (BGFA), because they are cool, and I looked at the KelTec P3AT, the Ruger LCP, and the Taurus 738 TCP .

The KelTec felt like cheese-dickery in my hands. 

No.

The Ruger was OK, but it only came with one magazine, and its trigger felt like chunky monkey snot. 

Negatory.

The Taurus fit my massive but girlie-like delicate hands OK, has a nice trigger, two magazines, and a groovy man-purse, so...I laid some cashola down for the Taurus, and hurried back home to be horrified at some of the early heinous reviews I found on the intardnets.

I'm such a douche...
 
Luckily, I found out that Taurus has good customer service, that my new pistol has the coveted "A" at the end of its serial number...indicating it is newer, more better and cooler than the old shitty ones, and that Taurus got its shit in one sack and fixed all the bugs.

I told the gentleman at BGFA that if the pistol sucked I would be back in and throw it at him.

He was scared.

Sorta.

_____

I put 200 rounds through the Taurus TCP...Winchester white box (WWB) ball round stuff.

No failures to feed.

No failures to extract.

Had probably two-dozen failures-to-fire due to what looks like light primer strikes.

I hear tell that WWB ammo is known for very stiff primers...that they need a good kick in the ass from the firing pin to get going.  I don't know, but it makes sense because I also ran a dozen premium borrowed hand-loads with no problems. (Thanks, Jay)

The light primer strikes/misfires appeared to happen when I didn't allow the trigger to fully reset after firing a round. (Thanks, Jon)

When I was conscious of my trigger control and allowed it to reset fully, I had almost no problems.

Brass ejection often was straight up out of the gun, and many casings bounced off the top of my stupid head.

I'm not quite ready yet to carry this piece on a daily basis. I think I need to try some different brands of ammo first.

The sights, which are small and sorta hard to see, and are molded into the slide, really kinda suck, and my crappy eyes lost sight picture a few times.

I'm thinking about dabbing some white paint on them to see if that helps.

But...then again, with a gun like this and the situations in which it might be used, who has time to aim?

That said...accuracy was OK...not jaw-dropping...but acceptable. At about seven yards, most of my aimed fire fell within the space the size of a sheet of typing paper...

I'm not totally disgusted with the TCP's performance yet, but I'm not jumping for joy either.

Ammo seems to be the biggest issue.

More testing to follow...

_____

In other news...

The Taurus performed flawlessly in drop-testing.

While exiting my vehicle recently, it slipped out of my coat pocket and hit my concrete driveway.

It had one in the throat, and was holstered in a crappy and cheap and embarrassing Uncle Mikes nylon thingy.

The Taurus did not discharge, much to my delight, as my neighbors, formerly known as the Rottweiler Watchers, were outside doing yard work.

Oops. 

Guess I'm not a civilian operator after all...

_____

Do you you clean a new gun?


Yes.

Always.

My 738 was "new,” and I questioned the sales guy about it because it was so dirty. 

Apparently, in my case anyway, Taurus test fires their guns, then boxes them up and ships them without cleaning them.

On the inside… when I bought it, mine looked like it had been drug down five miles of bad road.

_____

How is the trigger action on the Taurus? 

Regarding trigger pull: Dry firing the Taurus...pull is long but smooth, and something I can live with, I think.

Besides, if I'm using it for real (saving my ass), I'll be yankin' on that sum-bitch like the pull-rope on my Lawn-Boy, so I don't figure to be noticin' trigger action too much.

_____

I heard Taurus guns suck major ass.  Why on earth did you buy a Taurus?   Are you stupid?

Fuck you!  Nobody tells me what to do.  Not even me.

I'll try anything once, but, rest assured...if the Taurus sucks, I'm telling THE WORLD!!!

But…I'm really digging its small size. 

It will go anywhere effortlessly compared to my other hand-cannons….perfect for those times when one wants a gun and one is not supposed to have a gun! 

I'm really hoping it turns out to be a good firearm.

Overall...I'm a little disappointed in the Taurus 738 TCP so far, but I think I need to try different ammo before I finally decide if it sucks or not. I think more break-in shooting is required with these little pieces. I hear polishing the feed ramp is helpful.

Also, I think it's important to realize these pocket guns aren't like our full size quality Glocks, S&Ws, Colts, and Springfields.

__________ 

M1 Garand Gets A Test Drive!

Getting jiggy w/Miss G.A. Rand

I finally did it. Put about 8 clips through my M1 Garand!

Wow...is all I can say.

Never experienced anything like it. 

It bucks like a mule on steroids, and functioned flawlessly. 

No thumb injuries.

A couple of buddies gave me one bandolier of GI ball ammo, and twenty armour piercing rounds. 

Ping! Everything was perfect.

One guy well versed in Garands, said the rifle was a real thing of beauty, and questioned whether I should be shooting it because of how nice it is. (I told him I was going to use it, not abuse it nor hang it on a wall) He said the trigger action was beautiful. He was very impressed, as were the others at the range.

Several folks present had great info and pointers for me, and they were very jealous.

Many thanks to those who contributed ammo and knowledge.

We'll do it again soon.

_____

Where’d you get the M1?


I've had it for about a year.

You can read all about it here. 

It was originally purchased by my uncle from a Muncie, Indiana gun store about 30 years ago...for $345 !

I have the receipt. 

He never fired it in all that time, but he was aware of how much I coveted it.

He unexpectedly gifted it to me.

I was floored, of course!

I sent him an e-mail detailing my deflowering of his rifle.

He seemed pleased!

During this recent range session, I was interested to be informed that this rifle is equipped with "match" sights.

I don’t know about all that, but the knowledgeable person who told me this stated that he believed the entire rifle was of "match" quality due to the fact that it is also equipped with a National Match operating rod.

I told him that I didn't think it was an actual "match" rifle, but a mix-master comprised of some VERY good components.

These are great times we live in, brothers and sisters.

Great times indeed.