News Roundup

Straight into the important news:


...title track from her next album:  ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ “My fans made me leave my boyfriend.” ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪♫ ♪ ♫ ♪


...oy vey.  On both counts.

From the Dept. of Education:


...keyword:  Florida.

From the Red Sea area:


...and when the US Navy and the Royal Navy are both shown up by the Indian Navy...

In Election News:


...him, plus about 60 million others.

In Looneyville News:


...it’s just too bad that they and their vegan boyfriends are usually too tired to do anything about it.

Loonier still:


...atheists like these make me want to bring back the Inquisition and the stake.  Especially when the assholes get their jollies from pathetic memes like this one:

(Hint:  the ones on the left of the picture don’t fly airliners into skyscrapers.)

From the Women’s Section of Looneyville News:


...of course, had the sexes been reversed, the guy would have got life.
#MenArePigs


...yeah, that Star Wars franchise has made FAR too much money;  “equity” demands that their movies start losing it.  And what better way to get there than through feminism?


...key phrase:  Luck of the Irish.

In Media News:


...let’s hear it from those who think this is a Good Thing:

all of you, huh?

And in INSIGNIFICA:

       

 

Finally, a walk down Mammary Lane:


...and about time, too:

 

And a more recent pic:

Still all there, after all these years… [sigh]

Remember, the Comments section in the Roundup is Open Season.  Comment away.

Ginger Nuts

…that would be me.  Crazy ’bout them redheads.

Apparently, today is Kiss A Ginger Day (don’t ask how or why, I just report what I read SOTI).  Ordinarily I’m opposed to made-up holidays (e.g. MLK Day or Secretary’s Day), but I think I could bend the rules for this one.

Sadly, though, I’ll not be able to get into the spirit of the thing, for all sorts of reasons (including being married, and to a non-redhead withal, and not actually knowing any real redheads at the moment).  And my innate sense of self-respect (not to mention fear of los federales ) prevents me from just planting a smooch on the cheek of a random redhead I may encounter in the street.

However, I can play a game, that being:

Of the redheads pictured below, which ONE (as pictured) would you like to kiss above all the others?

And to make it interesting, there’s no chaste peck-on-the-cheek bullshit;  it would be a long, tongue-‘n-teeth affair which could get you arrested in twenty states.  Here they are:

Amy Adams

Ann-Margret

Angela Scanlon

Deborah Kerr

Gina Lollobrigida

Greer Garson

Cassandra Peterson

(a.k.a. Elvira, Mistress of the Dark)

Gillian Anderson

Isla Fisher

Jessica Chastain

Sarah Rafferty

Alicia Witt

Kathy Douglas

Maureen O’Hara

Lindsay Lohan

Jill St. John

Karen Gillan

Emma Stone

Maisie Smith

Patsy Palmer

Shirley-Ann Field

Kate Walsh

Poppy Montgomery

Rhonda Fleming

Perhaps the ultimate Ginger:

Tina Louise

And finally:

Just any old ginger will do, thanks

If I’ve omitted your favorite ginger, feel free to tell me all about it in Comments.

Just remember that Christina Hendricks isn’t a real redhead… if that’s important.

Lady Readers may go below decks, so to speak:

Read more

Background To The Range Report

A Longtime Loyal Reader (also a good friend who’s broken bread in my house) had occasion to, and I quote, “Replace a light bulb in my #3 gun safe.”

This necessitated emptying the thing of the guns stored therein, which required the assistance of his Son&Heir.

Then (and I quote again):  “I realized that I had about four CZ 75s tucked in the back that I’d forgotten about.  I bought them during the Obama years when there was all that talk about gun confiscation and mag-size regulation, then forgotten about them since.”

And then came the part which made me choke on my morning gin:  “Would you like one?”

Feebly I protested that I’d love one, but being one of the Poor Of The Parish, I couldn’t afford it, no matter the cost.  “Never mind all that,” was the airy response, “I need to make space in the safe.  What’s the address of your FFL?”

So I picked the 75 up yesterday, and raced off to the range to make its acquaintance.  What follows is the range report.


I should point out that when I divested myself of the Browning High Power early last year, I also divested myself of all my remaining 9mm ammo, donating it to Doc Russia because, “Oh hell, I’m never going to need all that again.”

Foolish man, right?  Anyway, I picked up two boxes of self-defense hollowpoint 9mm at the Merchant Of Death’s place, because I have decided that I’m only going to shoot what I carry.  So on with the show…

Range Report: CZ 75 (“Pre -B”) — 9x19mm Para

The CZ 75 has been made in several configurations, the earliest being the “Pre -B” (story here) and one of these was what was given to me and which I took to the range.

My Kind Benefactor had the temerity to apologize for the wear on the finish — like that has ever been a concern of mine — but even the guys at the Merchant Of Death, hardened gunnies though they are, were oohing and aahing over the thing, playing with it and trying out the trigger.

I’ll talk a little bit more about the gun itself later, but let me set the scene for the workout.  I made several decisions before the gun even arrived:

  • I’m only ever going to shoot heavy hollowpoints out of the thing, and never the cheap 115gr FMJ ammo because I despise it.
  • So I chose SIG’s Elite JHP 147-gr offering:
      …because that was the cheapest ammo of those specs I could find.

There are a couple of issues with the CZ pre-B 75 guns, but only one of which might be problematic (for me), and that is that their magazines are not compatible with those used in the later CZ 75 B models (and their sub-variants).  I discovered that the pre-B mags are like hen’s teeth, but this is not a concern for me because I intend to carry the 75 as a backup piece, its 15-round mag replacing the S&W 637’s 5-round cylinder.

Anyway, so this is the background to the workout below.  I only had two boxes (all I could afford at the moment), and I had to hold back 15 rounds for the carry mag, so all I had was 25 rounds to play with.  So instead of blasting away (as is my wont), I had to go all South African Army and watch my ammo count carefully.  Here’s how it went, at 7 yards (20-odd feet) distance:

The double-action trigger pull on the CZ 75 is okay, a tad stiff — more like a WWII P-38 than (say) a Glock — but it doesn’t really matter because as a self-defense piece, and not being constrained by department policy, I’m going to carry it cocked and locked like my 1911 so I don’t have to think about it:  safety off, and away we go.

The single-action pull is lovely:  a smooth take-up but no stop before the bang, which for this 1911/BHP user is going to take a little more work.  It did catch me unawares a couple of times during the session, to be sure, with a couple of annoying flyers, but no matter because MOAR PRACTICE oh boy.

I had intended to do a side-by-side with the 1911, but by the time I caught myself, I only had four rounds left.  Never mind, thinks I, let’s just do four rounds of the 9mm, and four rounds of the 1911 carry ammo:


(This is all I carry and shoot these days in my 1911, because heavier .45 boolets (e.g. 230gr FMJ) do a number on my aged wrists after a few mags thereof, and these soft-shooting Normas are both accurate and deadly — “MHP” stands for “monolithic hollow point”, whatever that means.)

Here’s the 4-round comparison, aimed at the “head” portion of the target:

All were fired in what I call “aimed-rapid”, i.e. bang [beat] bang [beat] etc., and the left-hand hole in the .45 group contains two shots, as it happens, the first two I fired.  (Many thousands of practice rounds helps with this kind of thing.)

I noted that I’m shooting the 75 a fraction high after the first shot, something I’ll be watching in future practice sessions.  (The first shot in the above target is the bottom-left hole.)

The grouping is… acceptable — for me anyway.

This SIG ammo is about 58c/pull, the Norma about 50c.

The difference between the two guns in felt recoil is almost imperceptible.  The 75 is surprisingly hefty and tames whatever recoil the heavier 9mm rounds generate.  In terms of size, it almost fits in my 1911’s holsters, but for the larger trigger guard.

Speaking of which, this is one way you can tell the immediate difference between the CZ 75 and the CZ 75 B:

 
Note too the bobbed hammer of the later B;  those two features and the incompatible mags (grrrrr) are the major apparent differences between the two.

As for me:  I now carry a 1911 with 24 rounds (three mags) of .45 ACP, and a backup CZ 75 with 15 rounds of Europellet in its single magazine.

That should work.

Revisited

Ask me again why I love Edinburgh…

Okay, here’s the skinny.  As pretty as that picture may be, Edinburgh is not the place to visit in winter.  It’s witch’s tit cold, a kind of damp, raw cold that seems to defeat even Chicago-strength coats and gloves — ask me how I know this — and it turns any kind of pedestrian touring of its gorgeous streets into a series of short dashes between oases of relative warmth, these being shops and pubs (not that the latter is a terrible option).

That’s the physical part of it.  More depressing is the gloom — daytime in winter is technically six hours long — about 9am to 3pm, but “daytime” in wintry Edinburgh seldom involves “daylight” (as seen from my hotel room at about midday):

…and this largely explains why Scots are, by and large, the gloomiest people on the planet and why Scotland’s largest export is not whisky but people.

All that said, I don’t know any Americans who don’t love the place.  It ranks in the Son&Heir’s (and Daughter’s, and her mother’s) top three favorite cities in the world — and they’ve been to many — and it’s certainly in both my and New Wife’s top five, although we prefer summer or fall because Olde Pharttes.  Ditto Doc Russia and his New Wife, who were there in early November last, and who both want to go back, and soon.

With one regrettable fracas excepted (mine), we’ve all found the people to be as friendly as can be.  I remember Connie once asking for directions, prefacing her question with “I feel like such an idiot asking for help in my favorite city in the world [it was], but…” only to be met with a huge smile, a “Dinnawurry, lassie”, followed by a string of directions that we couldn’t understand at all.  Fortunately, there was a lot of arm-waving and pointing, so we got the gist.

I would go back there tomorrow, and it’s January, FFS.  And for the cold, there’s porridge (“parrutch”) and single malt.  Every man should.