This is interesting:

They’re not selling, just providing the hook-up ‘twixt interested parties. I’m thinking I’m gonna put in a request on a Dan Wesson 1911, and see what happens.

In other news, .308 ammo isstill very spendy, and genuine M1A mags from Springfield are hard to find. I’ve got no beef with that Russki Silver Bear ammo, though…runs just fine through my M1A, with no hideous side-effects I’ve been able to observe.

Business: Cigarmakers in a panic

Eric Newman punches the numbers on his calculator and gapes at the results one more time.It’s no mathematical error: The federal government has proposed raising taxes on premium cigars, the kind Newman’s family has been rolling for decades in Ybor City, by as much as 20,000 percent.

As part of an increase in tobacco taxes designed to pay for children’s health insurance, the nickel-per-cigar tax that has ruled the industry could rise to as much as $10 per cigar.

Aren’t we getting close to a mutiny here somewhere? Does a cigar maker throw up barricades, arm themselves to the teeth, and tell the revenuers to come and get the fooking tax? Black market, perhaps?

Or is America just a land of sheep, content with their lot? Extremely healthy sheep, with no vices. But then — sheep don’t have vices, do they? Neither are their parents expected to be responsible for keeping the kids healthy - that’s someone else’s job. That guy that keeps shearing them, that’s whose job.  Who’s that, these days?

Here’s the source of the controversy: The Democrat controlled Congress has sought an extra $35-billion to $50-billion for the state children’s health insurance program. The program distributes payments to the states to help buy coverage for kids not poor enough for Medicaid.

If that last sentence doesn’t compute for you, like it doesn’t for me — well, you’re a heartless bastard to question why the federal government is helping kids not poor enough for Medicaid.  Which seems to me, if you do the math, that now the Federales are responsible for every kid, every where, all the time.  Either you’re poor enough for Medicaid, or…you’re not, right?

Well, this is what you get, America — a good, hard screwing.  Shut up and take it like a sheep.

IPhones flooding wireless LAN at Duke University - Network World

That’s because the misbehaving iPhones flood the access points with up to 18,000 address requests per second, nearly 10Mbps of bandwidth, and monopolizing the AP’s airtime.The access points show up as “out of service.” For 10-15 minutes, there’s no way to communicate with them, Miller says. “When the problem occurs, we see dozens of access points in that condition,” Miller says. The network team began capturing wireless traffic for analysis and that’s when they discovered that the offending devices were iPhones. Right now, Miller says, there are about 150 of the Apple devices registered on the campus WLAN.

Silver lining: That’s one powerful processor from Genius Steve Jobs, cranking out eighteen thousands ARP requests per minute and killing access points for 15 minutes at a time! Frankly, I can’t believe the WiFi dudes didn’t anticipate correctly and understand the power of the brilliance of the iPhone.  Idiots.

Dark cloud: I’m probably going to have to buy an iPhone — Palm is circling the drain, the Helio Ocean doesn’t support Outlook sync, Windows CE Mobile Smartphone Xbox Zune-a-rooni can’t decide what it wants to be and it’s a hideous interface, to boot.  At least with Apple, I’d be in the cozy confines of Brother Job’s velvety glove and I’d never have to decide what I want and just buy whatever he tells me to.

Who the fook is Kathy Griffin?

I got my new Sasquatch woods today…the more I think about it, the more thrilled I am to have a golf club named Sasquatch. They could have made them out of window caulk and road-base, and painted them pink, and I’d be happy to put them in the bag. This means driving range manana. Maybe even 9 holes at a muni.

Work is kicking my hiney, and I love it.

That was one dull race yesterday, but I’m glad to see Tony Stewart get a win under his belt coming up on the chase. I rooted for John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors, too. But I hate a whiny brat at the poker table. Explain that. I can’t.

It’s still raining pretty much every damn day in San Antonio. Combine it with 95° heat, and my yard is a mo-fo all the time…scraggly, over-grown, weedy, clover-y. Even the day after I cut it. Bah…piss on it.

I’m about ready to start driving to Austin for poker. All I have here in Ess-Aye is stripclub freerolling, which, while easy on the eyes and a good lesson in donkey management, sucks horribly as the money is exceedingly slim. As in, it doesn’t cover one-fifth of my damn beer. And I need a lot of beer to get over the annoyance of shitty death metal, whitey-hating rap, and random Mexican music. I don’t know if the strippers are just stupid with zero musical taste, or if the management thinks that’s the thing to do. Maybe I should give them $100 just to play, like, three hours of decent Texas music — ZZ, SRV, BJS, etc.

I got a new laptop as the Vaio was dying slowly — no, it’s not a dumb macintosh.

Texas lawmaker shoots would-be thief, police say

A state lawmaker who opposed a bill giving Texans stronger right to defend themselves with deadly force pulled a gun and shot a man he says was trying to steal copper wiring from a construction site, police said Monday.

[snip]

Miles, a Democrat, voted against a bill that gives Texans stronger legal right to defend themselves with deadly force in their homes, vehicles, and workplaces. The so-called “castle doctrine,” passed by the Legislature this year, states that a person has no duty to retreat from an intruder before using deadly force. The law goes into effect Sept. 1.

Borris Miles voted against you, my fellow Texans, doing precisely the same exact thing. Would some damn journalist call him up and ask him why he’s so goddamned special, and we ain’t? Why I’m expected by Borris Miles to back off and go hide and dial 9-1-1 and hope that copper wire is the only thing the sumbitch in my house wants and that the cops get there before said sumbitch turns his thoughts to maybe more?

Thankfully, Borris Miles was on the wrong end of history on that one. Fortunately, I’ve only got to wait another month and a half before I’m allowed, by the law of the great state of Texas, to defend me and my copper wire without fear of prosecution by an over-zealous vote-seeking DA. However, you voters who put Mr. Miles in office might want to ask him what other things he thinks you little people shouldn’t be allowed to do, but are perfectly OK for him.

I literally just turned on the teevee to the beisboll all-star thingy, and they’ve got some lady singer wandering around while a roadie dude in a black t-shirt tries to plug in a keyboard and the pianist is kicking off her shoes?  Wow.

I’ll never stop loving baseball, and that right there is the reason why…football has a cast of thousands with Broadway stage directors timing things to the split second, and spends $10MM for the winner of America’s Got Hash-Slingin’ ‘n’ Singin’ Talent show doing bumper music leading up to the 15th commercial before the National Anthem.  That’s cool, too.  But baseball, Major League Baseball, raking in billions every year, can’t string together an extension cord that’s long enough for Johnny Fever to plug in to the Radio Shack organ.

Looks like plenty of empty seats there…maybe everyone is out getting a beer.   It’s really a testament to the wonderfulness that is baseball that the schmoes running it haven’t completely and totally killed it as a national sport.  All baseball really needs is just a smidgen, a tee-tiny skosh, of good management.

…are really only a very small part* of this Holy Union:

Complete, utter lunatics, captured on film.

* The paying part.

I’m voting for Fred Thompson on the basis of this picture all by itself.

One more word about trophy wives or robbing the cradle or bad First Lady material, and I’m going nuclear. Bring on the peroxide, tacky dresses, spray-on tan, and great American bazoombas — don’t forget the successful lawyerly brain while you’re at it, dipsticks. All I want out of this election is completely fooked-up Musselmen wondering how their Mohammed has led them to this pass.* Hell, I’d vote for Hillary if I thought they’d get the message, but she’s way too inclusive and conciliatory and would greatly appreciate their cousin’s vote.

* Because of this, Aknad — we’re right.

Big Dick Stanley says that there’s yet another carrier group headed to the Persian Gulf Region.

So does this mean I can call bullshit on Seymour Hersh and all his drooling sycophants yet? Still no war with Iran, after all, when it was just moments, mere fucking Bush42 moments, from starting 18 months ago.

Why does anybody grant that fool Hersh any credibility whatsoever? The answer is, because they desire so fervently that his wishes come true, that’s why. Just like Jihad U., this Hegemonic Enormous Atomic War With the Persians thing is pure media-driven cheap-seats wish-fulfillment speculatory horseapples. Eat them if you wish, because I’m sure you can whip up a story why they taste so damn good.

What is it with Texas mayors hating on the high calling of stripping?

If that doesn’t sound fulfilling, Ms. Taylor should try obtaining a law degree and becoming a wealthy trial lawyer, then parlaying her connections into a high-level presidential appointment in the Energy Department, then using those connections to attain greater wealth in the private sector, then launching a successful political career … Such a path would require a considerable amount of get-up-and-go, it’s true, but it’ll beat taking off all your clothes and dancing in front of strangers any day.

Seriously, though, Slampo has the goods on what it takes to guarantee success in America today.  Sure, you can learn all that mathematics and chemistry and electronics and shit, but you’ll have to kiss some ass and work on a team and pull together a bunch of investors and produce a Facebook application that hits with the ADD/Ritalin crowd to make it as an engineer.  Doctors are all getting jammed into insurance plans and HMOs and Medicare, and that’s a hard, hard living nowadays.  Lawyer, though — pffft!  That’s the way to go.

As Bush goes, so goes Crawford

When papers and reporters and professors and sundry bitch about the death of the newspaper, here’s a good reason why they’re dying — a canned, standardized Lame-stream media chinpuller (beard-tugger? moustache-twirler?) about the Preznit’s newest hometown and their economic wanderings.  Nobody really gives a damn about Crawford, TX, except people in Crawford, TX.  If you were crazy enough to invest your pension in a Chimpy McBushitler knick-knack shop / salt-water taffy emporium, then you might be facing uncertain times.  Me, I’ve passed through Johnson City 10,000,000 times, and I’ve never felt the urge to wander over to the LBJ Museum & Tortilleria, or whatever they’ve got.

I think Americans overall have figured out that their politicians are generally people with far too much family money and time on their hands, and there’s not a lot to be gotten from touristing to where they call home, unless you really and truly need an Eisenhower bottle opener or a Ford soap-on-a-rope.  You can probably get those on the internet, anyway.

I’ve got 12′ x 7½’ x ~4′ of U-Haul to unload, then I’m done with moving. Where all that crap is going to go in this eensie house is beyond me, man.

UPDATE: Done.  Where it’s going is the garage.  Yeesh…

As you might have gathered if you’re a regular reader, I’m in the process of moving from Dallas to San Antonio.  So today I’m working on one of the thousands of closets I needed to pack, and I came across something I thought I’d lost years ago.  It’s a baseball signed by Hank Aaron.  It was given to me by a co-worker almost 10 years ago who had gotten it at some corporate function, yet wasn’t a baseball fan.  He recognized what Hank Aaron meant to me, a baseball fan, though, so he passed it on.

I can tell you, I was thrilled today, even at 47 years old, to hold a baseball that had been in the hands of Hank Aaron.  I feel like I’m 14 again.  I’ve got goosebumps as I write this, and I get goosebumps reading about Hank’s chase of the Babe’s record.  I get goosebumps thinking about Hank’s triumph.  Which tells me that I still love baseball, really, deeply, no matter how much apathy I have for it at the moment.

I put that baseball back in the sock it was in, and I stuffed it deep in a box that I hope I can identify later, because I want to give that baseball to my grandson, and maybe talk to him about some of the great ballplayers I’ve seen in my life.  That would be really good.

That would be golfing.  When it was last mentioned here, I was on eBay searching for a Taylor Made R7 10.5 Ultraquad driver.  That was a failure, an enormous failure, even though I gave it three days.  At the end of the three days, I pulled out my jungle wedge, and dug through all my various points accounts, and found a 1-3-5 freaking-enormous metal woods set on offer from Marriott Rewards.  I grabbed it, purely because of the name: the Nike Sasquatch Sumo.

Seriously…how could I go wrong? It’s like they were made for me, or named for me, minimum.  If I, a sasquatch of the first order, and on track for the senior sumo circuit, can’t make these work, they never will.  The coolest part of the transaction was talking on the phone today to Bubba at the Rewards pro shop, wanting to make sure they fit me.  I should have them by mid-next-week, and then I’m going to have to go play 18.  I worry a little bit that a stiff shaft is more than I can manage, but I console myself by counseling the eternal need for a stiff shaft.

That was juvenile, but eff it.

Day 1A has already started. Here’s where to go for the best typing into the internet about the whole shebang:

Just to be clear, I am NOT an HST fanboy. I think Thompson’s way over-rated and very definitely over-celebrated by the dopeheads, and I mean by about a factor of five. That said, Pauly approaches the sincerely good rating that I do give the good doctor, and that’s more than enough for me. I’ll never write that good, and few do. Take the next couple of weeks and stick with Pauly and enjoy the ride…you won’t regret it, even if you never played for more than matchsticks at the kitchen table with your grandma.

My favorite poker writer, and my favorite poker player…these two are at my Heaven Table.