Christmas and cut thumbs...

Hey, for Christmas I got a new gun! How's that for cool? It's a Beretta Tomcat Inox. That means it's stainless steel in .32 acp. SWEET! I wanted it for the days when I can't carry a gun that's larger. I know, I know, .32 acp isn't a caliber most people would trust their life to. All I can say is, I'd rather have a .32 than not have a gun at all.

So, I'm coring an apple last night. They have these bad ass corers at Wal-Mart and so I bought one. Basically, you hold a handle on each side and push it down onto the apple, cutting it into slices and leaving the core behind. The only problem is, the wire-blades in the middle are pretty damned sharp. So you know what? I was cleaning it last night and cut the hell out of my thumb. It's my right thumb, my hammer thumb in other words, and I had planned on going to the range today and trying out some spare mags in my new Tomcat. We'll see how it goes.

I overspent on my neices and nephews again. I do that at Christmas and normally, I'll plan to spend $25 each on them and since I have nine neices and nephews to buy for, that small amount adds up. So what normally happens is I'll buy lots of presents that are under five bucks. Their ages are 10,8,6,6,5,4,4,2, 2 mos. So, they're not going to know the difference between GI Joe and The Corps but they will see all kinds of cool ass toys. When they get a little more sophisticated, I'll have to change my strategy but until then, I'm good.

Here's the thing, though. I'm wondering if my sister's feel like I'm trying to outdo them. I'm just glad their kids are going to have something for Christmas because I remember a few rather lean Christmases when I was a kid and I remember not understanding. It wasn't until five or six years ago that I realized the reason my kindergarten teacher gave me a Light-Brite was because I was poor, that we were one of those families on "the list".

So, I don't want my sister's kids, or my brother's kids, to ever know about "the list". Now, if my lazy ass sister's would get a job, it would be different. My youngest sister is a gypsy. Travels around, never stays in one place for very long, however she does manage to keep her kids in the same school district year after year, no matter how far she has to drive from home to get them there.

Anyway, all of this is neither here nor there because I'm typing with two injured fingers. In addition to the deep cut from the apple corer, I got a paper cut under my fingernail while reaching for a present to wrap and catching a piece of plastic that a present was packaged in.

Merry Christmas.

It's been a while...

It's been a while since I've had a journal entry, actually over three months, and I thought I'd add something, just in case anyone's still checking up.

In the past three months, my favorite team is 13-0. Yes, I'm talking about the Indianapolis Colts. Peyton Manning is the smartest player to ever play football. His talent level is high but his mental ability, his understanding, his instinct for the game is where he excels above all others. So, I've been watching three days of football, sometimes more, each week. Arkansas will be bad ass next year. Had Nutt started Casey Dick earlier this year, we wouldn't have gotten our asses kicked so fucking bad.

Also, I sold my Browning BDA and bought a Savage 111G in .270 winchester and started deer hunting again. I had been squirrel hunting and stuff and decided to deer hunt. Have I done any good? Out of three trips, I've seen three deer. Took two shots at an 8-point and missed. Fuck. I've got the new accu-trigger on my Savage which gives it the greatest trigger short of a match trigger and I've got a bad ass Nikon scope and should not have missed. But I did. My fault. After not having hunted for seven or eight years, I got excited. Sue me.

Also, I flew to Las Vegas and got married. WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Life is good. My first flight, my second marriage, my first trip to Vegas. We won more money than we lost, we had a wonderful time, and we didn't patronize any prostitutes. Good trip.

My old dog just keeps getting smarter and smarter. He's almost 18 months old, he's a lab mix, and he's so smart. He's also empathetic. He knows what we want him to do and how we want him to act without having to be given verbal commands.

I've gotten better at the grill. I can no longer order a steak in a restaurant, mine is better. I can no longer order fajitas, mine are better. Ditto for teriyaki grilled chicken. Mine is superior. Honey grilled tilapia? Excellent. Jerk shrimp with a twist of lime? I'm unbeatable. My pork tenderloin was good, my ribs are fair, and I'll be trying some new stuff soon I think. Oh, and I just baked my first cake in years...I'll let you know on it.

Oh, and I haven't written jack shit in a long, long time but I did recently return to journaling. Fuck. I'm fat, happy, and getting fatter and happier. The writing should come along soon because I'm not a good tortured artist. I write best when I'm happy.

Till next time...

Fuck the Po-Lice.