Sent Dave a check. Dont use Paypal. They are anti gun. I dont feed my enemies. But why did I? I ask myself that almost every time I open a post.
Why is it always a Big Richard contest? I ask a question in a post, get a few good responses and it seems to always devolve into several of the "experts" trying to show the other "experts" they know more than the other "experts". Its school yard BS. It appears that way in many posts.
When I read an interesting post, I want to read the responses that address the post. not the personal pissing contests. Some of the behavior on here makes me question how some of the "experts" are even allowed to possess firearms based on some the responses, threats, aspersions, insults, arguments, attacks, etc. that i see.
About all that I have seen missing is someone saying the others mother wears Army boots!
just my .02.
So, literally, this is your biggest problem at the moment? You don’t know anybody about to clock out from a cancer diagnosis they got a few months past (I do). Don’t have a relative younger than you that has lost their mobility because diabetes took their legs, and they will spend the rest of their days looking at the ceiling of the room they are stuck in (I do). Don’t know a guy at work whose 18 year old nephew threw himself off a building to his death, unable to cope with this thing called life (I do).
You are former military. Suck it up. Be there for somebody. Understand humor, and understand the shack nasties are real for a lot of old guys. It will go away in the spring. It always does. Give to Dave. Give to your church, and maybe to a few other boards or worthy organizations. Realize first world problems are often silly compared to real problems, and allow yourself to get past that.
Smile. Breath. Be productive. Be of good cheer.
Good to see you figured out how to get past your enemy and donate to Dave. Did you use the address I put up for you to send it to?
Mother wears army boots? My mom was a navy diver. Wanted to be in the UDTs, but, they wouldn’t let her. A navy captain convinced her to learn to weld because he could find 100 guys to blow shit up underwater for every one who could weld blown up shit back together underwater. My dad walked into a bar in Subic Bay and found her with some drunken squid, who wouldn’t leave her alone, in a head lock, beating his face into the bar.
He convinced her to let him go, bought her a drink, got her unit number, and fell into 60 years worth of jarhead love. Thank God he outranked her.
I assume she had boots on at the time. But, I never asked. I miss mom, and I miss the way she could light a smoke, knock her welding helmet down, and run a flawless bead of TIG or Heliarc wearing a flowered muumuu and slippers.
Best,
Ted
