…they call on Michael Dukakis for political support!
In a last-minute move of desperation, Barney Frank called in former governor and presidential-nominee, Michael Dukakis, to help him rally support…amongst his base in the liberal town of Brookline…
Um. Wow. Kind of like calling in Rosie O’Donnell for diet help.
You guys know that I generally don’t take money for advertisements in any form on this site. This place is my own personal journal. I use it to vent, to inform or just to dump my everyday brain droppings. It’s a diary. It just happens to be public. If people read it, cool. If not, I couldn’t possibly care less. If I get a chance to help a friend or ally with a link, I will do so gladly, and I don’t ask for payment in return. It keeps me honest, and it keeps me accountable to no one but myself. I realize that the moment I start taking money for folks to advertise on this sit, I will also have to be somewhat accountable to said advertisers if I want to keep said money.
Not for me. I’ll just continue giving friends, allies and good products the space and recognition they deserve.
That’s just how I roll.
You guys may remember Watson. My new 1911. Generally Watson is a pistol I’ll carry open, because it’s just too big to conceal on my person, because I’m not all that big, and sticking him in a bag is just a waste!
Enter Dragon Leatherworks. Apparently someone read my mind and realized that Watson was just too pretty to stick in a bag and conceal. Watson needs pretty clothes. So……………
Watson now has clothes. Pretty leather clothes. Clothes he’ll be proud to show in public.
The holster is well-made, solid in craftsmanship and absolutely beautiful.
Even though I didn’t have the belt looped into my jeans (because I’m lazy) like I normally would in this photo, I could still draw with no problem.
And yes, that’s my ass. First comment about its size gets a fist in the uvula.
What I like about Dragon is that he’s the epitome of human creativity and ingenuity. He took something he likes and he made it into something beautiful that just screams to be shared with others! He didn’t get anything handed to him. Didn’t inherit a company or a design. He just started messing around, because he liked it. So I asked him to give me some background on how he got started.
I couldn’t find holsters that I liked, that were also comfortable. Way back in my youth (like, in my early teens…I’m 50 now) my grandfather (on my dads side) who was right off the boat from Yugoslavia, taught me how to do important *life* stuff…like starting a fire, building varmint traps for squirrel, rabbits, birds, etc., because you never know when you’ll be lost in the woods and need to feed yourself. He also taught me general farm-type maintenance, like repairing leather goods, stitching a rip in a sail on your sailboat, fixing your own shoes…in the old country, folks were self-sufficient. You didn’t have the luxury of disposable income with which to hire someone to fix your stuff. If it broke, you fixed it. If you couldn’t fix it, no-one was going to help you, and they would probably leave you to your own devices to sink or swim. You were shown once or twice how to do something, and that was it. You were on your own.
So…I started to stitch my own holsters using the skills and know-how that my grandfather passed along to me over 37 years ago of how to do general repairs. I simply used what I learned to make new stuff instead of fixing old stuff.
I started to really get into trying different designs, and it started to become an expensive hobby. I figured that I could fund the hobby by selling some holsters to recoup some of my money, so I registered a business, built a website, and started trying to make sales, all he while trying different designs, different styles (IWB, OWB, Pancake, etc.) I made a few sales to friends, then posted a few listings on eBay and made a sale or two also.
I wanted to be different, though, and wanted to NOT do the same stuff that other makers were doing…when I look at a Galco, Bianchi, Don Hume, or other *name brands*, to me they all look the same, and they all cost too much. I took a hard look at the market and what was out there…I’m not very good at tooling the leather (that is truly a dying art, BTW) so the real fancy stuff like old Western styles was out of the question. I did notice that no-one was using exotic leather, like Python, Stingray, Ostrich, Crocodile, and so on, in making holsters. Sure, there were one or two that would do a custom job by request, and really hit you with an upcharge because its using an *exotic* skin.
You know what else I like about this holster? It’s bound to piss off the PETArds. Exotic animal skins???? You killed a poor crocodile to make a holster for your killing machine????????? You bastard!
Yeah, I know… bring on the villagers wielding recyclable plastic sporks!
Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure the 1911 will trump the spork every time.
Check the site out, and if you need a holster, consider buying this one. They’re reasonably priced and absolutely gorgeous!
I don’t know how much the libtards on the Supreme Court know about capital punishment, but they may want to do some research. If they do their research, they’ll find out that the drugs used in lethal injections are SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU! That’s right. Let me say that again. THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU!
Ergo, when the Wise Latina™ and the other leftist mental deficients on the Supreme Court questioned whether one of the drugs used to KILL MURDERING SCUM is “safe for its intended use,” one has to wonder whether they actually understand the purpose of lethal injections.
Here’s a clue: Capital punishment’s entire purpose is to KILL the subject! But really, I have a better idea: one bullet, one pull of the trigger, gun in mouth.
In general, Internet scammers are the lowest form of swine. They prey on the weak – often the elderly and frightened – as well as desperate, lonely people looking for friendship, love and some sort of connection in this relatively new online world. They promise love, riches and a future, and many people, anxious to find an easy solution to their desperate situation fall for their scams.
I normally like to mess with these losers. As a general rule, they’re not particularly smart. They pretend to be lawyers, doctors, Americans stranded in third-world shitholes and other such despairing souls. They use piss poor English, even as they claim to be professionals. They use goofy email addresses – some as simple as Yahoo! mail – others a bit more sophisticated, but still discernible as frauds to anyone with an IQ above room temperature and a cursory knowledge of the Internet. And because they’re generally not smart, they’re easily manipulated, their minds clouded by their greed and dreams of riches at the expense of their stupid American victims.
Ergo, it becomes somewhat of a silly game to see what it is you can make them do with just a mere promise of a payout.
A few years ago, I was contacted by some toerag from some African shithole, claiming to be a desperate American woman, dying of AIDS in Africa, who was trying to find a suitable home for her two children, who would be orphaned sooner than later as her condition went from bad to worse. Being the parent of two adopted kids, I was immediately intrigued and appalled by the gall of this bastard, and decided to play a little game with him. Over the course of two weeks, I led him to an inevitable Internet demise, but not before obtaining his signature on a “contract” that forced him to do unspeakable things to monkeys. Luckily, my friend, author Michael Z. Williamson meticulously documented the exchange and posted it on his website as an example of the twisted company he keeps.
How twisted? Well, you can read for yourself. But just to give you a taste, I got the scammer to send me a copy of his “passport”…
And I got him to sign a contract stating the following…
- Sucking the penis of a hairy rhesus monkey
- Getting large objects shoved up your ass and getting sexually abused with whips and chains
- Giving me a large sum of money – however much I want
Yes, I actually got a scammer to agree to send ME money, and in the end, I explained to him exactly with whom he was dealing and what he had agreed to do for me.
Does anyone really ever fall for the “I’m a poor widow with AIDS and Iwant you to adopt my children and take my fortune” scam? If they do,they must be even more stupid than you are, and that’s quite anaccomplishment, I have to tell you!
See, no person IN THEIR RIGHT MIND would give up her children to astranger over the internet after contacting them through email. Younever know what kind of pervert or scumbag would grab your children andsell them into sexual slavery for three bucks. And no person with evenhalf a brain would actually transfer money to some greedy dickwad posingas a lawyer whose knowledge of the language is so bad, he wouldactually sign a contract that compels him to suck off a monkey. Butmaybe you like that kind of stuff — I don’t know.
Over the years, there have been others who have done similar things to Nigerian scammers. This guy in particular was very adept at it. But as in everything else in life, the scammers adapted. They changed their tactics and targeted different prey: lonely women looking for dates on the Internet.
A few weeks ago, I received an email from a reader requesting my help in convincing her mother that the guy she was having an online romance with was a scammer and a fraud. This lonely lady had already sent him a laptop, but as usual, the requests for gifts didn’t stop there. I warned the daughter that her mother was playing a dangerous game with someone who claimed to be a United States Soldier.
No, I’m not even kidding.
These fetid boils on the ass of humanity are now pretending to be US troops overseas in Iraq or Afghanistan, playing on the sympathies and patriotic emotions of lonely women, and scamming them out of time, money and gifts.
They would e-mail each other for days. He sent romantic poems and even provided pictures, but when he asked her for money, she knew she had been sucked into a scam.
First, she noticed red flags, like the poor English he used. “Some of the words were not spelled correctly; the use of grammar was not totally there,” she added.
She said the second red flag were his so-called needs. “He kept mentioning that they didn’t have access to funds at the base,” she said.
Finally, she grew even more suspicious when he asked her to send money so he could purchase a satellite phone to stay in touch.
Personally, I can imagine nothing lower.
We all love our troops – courageous service members who sacrifice everything to protect our freedoms, who deploy to dangerous areas, far away from their friends and loved ones. Combine these feelings of affection and trust for our military with an aching loneliness and desire to find someone to love, and you have a perfect recipe for scammer prey.
So please take this blog post as a warning and tell single women you know to look for red flags. I do realize sites like Match.com and eHarmony and a whole host of others that have popped up in recent years are the new bar scene of the millennium, and they have brought numerous couples together and helped them find happiness in one another. These sites are no worse or better than the bars scene, but whereas you can look someone in the eyes in a bar and sometimes tell if they’re being deceptive or if they just give you the wrong vibe, no such thing can be discerned on the Internet.
These “Soldiers” are NOT Soldiers, people! Even in the crappiest shithole, we still have access to money and communications! No official military address ends with a .com or a .us. Keep your wits about you if you’re communicating with someone online, and don’t let them fool you into believing you’re supporting United States service members. You’re not. You’re supporting the foulest of swine who have no problem taking advantage of your love and respect for the military and your desire to find a soulmate.
And while I on occasion have my fun messing with the scammers, these are the types who do not deserve even the slightest bit of hope or fun. When they start impersonating American heroes in order to take advantage of lonely women, the only thing they deserve is a metal chair to the face and a stint in a Nigerian prison getting cluefucked by diseased criminals.
Do us all a favor and pass this on as a warning.
I rarely devote entire posts to my friends, but in this case, I must make an exception. My buddy Rachel knows me well enough to know that:
a) I like quirky
b) I hate Sarah Palin’s voice
c) I love the chicken man, but am somewhat apathetic about chicken
d) I will sing that song at the top of my voice until my vocal chords bleed
All of the above may seem like random ruminations of a raving loon, but I promise you there’s a point to this. And the point is this:
Rachel knows that (as I pointed out on her blog today), I’d rather listen to the dulcet sound of Fran Drescher being gangbanged by Kermit the Frog, Justin Bieber and Jar Jar Binks than another platitude about limited government out of Palin’s maw. She also knows that while I’m pretty much lukewarm when it comes to chicken, I find the song to be an endless source of entertainment. Rachel and I also agree that Sarah Palin’s voice and accent are the auditory equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. So when she made this video for me, she ensured that Palin sounded like a 7-11 clerk mated with a BBC newscaster!