I once went to a bar to shoot a little pool after a day at the range and some clean up afterwards. As I was working my way to the bar to get a Pepsi..a gal, who was standing talking to another fellow suddenly stopped in mid conversation...wrinkled her nose for a second..spun around and put her arms around me..and sniffed.
She got this big grin on her face...told me I smelled just like her Dad..and would I like to dance?
Out on the dance floor, during a very cuddly slow dance..I noticed she had a hide away pistol tucked away on her person..and I leaned to her ear..and tenderly asked her what caliber..she blinked for a moment...said it was a .380. I then directed her hand downwards to my hideaway rig..and said mine was a .45..she paused for a moment..blinked again, licked her lips..and asked if Id like to leave?
I, as a gentleman, will not discuss the rest of the evening for those who have fragile sensibilities.
Not long ago, after a day serviceing machines in a screw machine shop..I was standing in line at a Wells Fargo bank..and the very pretty little gal behind me sniffed...looked up at me with those big brown eyes..sniffed again..and said I smelled just like her Dad and was I a machinist? I said yes..and she said I stunk just the way her Dad did.
Sigh...
Hoppes gets the girls...high sulpher machine oil makes you feel old....
Gunner
The aim of untold millions is to be free to do exactly as they choose and for someone else to pay when things go wrong.
In the past few decades, a peculiar and distinctive psychology has emerged in England. Gone are the civility, sturdy independence, and admirable stoicism that carried the English through the war years . It has been replaced by a constant whine of excuses, complaints, and special pleading. The collapse of the British character has been as swift and complete as the collapse of British power.
Theodore Dalrymple,