Ruggery

One of my neighbors died last year, a fine Southern lady who lived in a beautiful house, as you'd expect, and I'd always admired the old Turkey rugs running up her stairs. 

So, when the house went up for sale I asked her daughter if I could buy those rugs for the Compound, yes, it has a stairwell too, which was in need of Moslem runners. She said maybe, but thought the rugs were a "selling point."

Yes, yes indeed, there was a logic here I couldn't refute, but she kindly said she'd tell the new owners about LSP interest. Lo and behold, as of this evening the incoming owners gave me the rugs; they didn't want them, those rugs were not for them.

Now they lie on the Compound's stairwell. Do they fit? Yes, they do, in just the right proportion and with extra length to spare for a maybe 6'+ hallway runner in the upper story of the Manse. OK, excellent, ruggery is go in LSPland, but what about the existing carpet and what lies beneath it? 

Serious question because who knows what damage 1980s vandals might have done to the wooden infrastructure of the stairs. You know, plywood glued onto original pine flooring, sorta thing. Worrying. But there was no need to worry. The original stairwell is pretty much undamaged and only needs a clean and polish and carpet tack removal. Not hard. Next step? Clean the ruggery. 

Ma LSP, who knows a thing or two about rugs, says Woolite or similar, matched with a soft brush and a garden hose does the trick. That sounds scary to me, but I'll do a test run on a portion of the Moslem stair covering and see if it works. 

If not, a stern beating followed by a hoover. Next? Remove the nasty old carpet, repaint the walls of the stairwell, clean and polish the wood of the stairs as appropriate, and then lay that rug down.

This, dear readers, is my plan. Will it be easy? I recall no one ever saying life would be.

Gun Rights,

LSP

Help Please

 

OK, crew, we're getting close to dove season and that means remedial skeet to get the aim in, but here's the thing. My old skeet pals have moved out of state, which means people to hurl clays by hand by way of practice are few and far between. Problem. What's the solution?  Get a marine battery driven skeet thrower, obviously, but which one? All advice welcome.

In related news, an Italian woman's been beat up by a boxing tranny at the Olympics. She lasted 46 seconds against this biological man, poor girl. Go figure. Maybe one of you can put a stop to our new globalist spectator sport of men beating up women on stage in the name of tolerance and inclusion.

Please,

LSP

What Kind Of American Are You?

 

Me? Dual passport Texan.

LSP

Life In Texas And Everywhere

 

So how is life in the North Central Texas Exclusion Zone, so-called LSP? Good question, and I'll tell you. It's blissfully cool, seriously, in the 80s, and this is Texas in late July. Enjoy it while you can. On topic, which is worse, the HEAT or the COLD. 

I've lived in both, Alberta and Texas, and feel heat is marginally better, but only marginally, both can kill you. That in mind, what drove Europeans to settle these places? They faced the elements, utterly hostile, low-barbaric Indians and all of that. Possibly, on both counts, a death sentence. So why do it?

Adventure and opportunity for sure, come to the New World and make a new future for yourself. But also this. Things in the Old World, Europe, have to have been bad, so bad that they risked their lives to come here. No small thing, tough people, not least in Texas. 

That in mind, here we are, with Europe in a state of, apparently, complete degeneracy, and our bicoastal elites fully inline with the Lesbitransgay++ agenda. Will the country as a whole, which is by no means rainbow woke, stand up against these tin-pot glitter Maoists, and say enough is enough? 

don't tea-cup the pistol, fool

To put it another way, will all the Christians stand up, go to the ballot box and vote against abortion and transing in such numbers that even a Deep State rig couldn't fix the result. I'm waiting.

Your Buddy,

LSP

Tucker Dynamite

 

Have you watched Tucker taking down lib Australian journo Kat Wong, AP, go figure, at the Australian Freedom Conference in Canberra? Here's a snapshot:

WOW: Liberal journalist calls Tucker racist and accuses him of inspiring mass shootings. pic.twitter.com/mOpFjrwAKP

— Tucker Carlson Network (@TCNetwork) June 26, 2024

Wow. Apart from zeroing in on Wong's stupid, deceitful, condescending, superior, holier-than-thou, risible, narrative hack pretense at journalism, Tucker goes one further. He calls out the West's demographic suicide, and that's exactly what it is, we're not reproducing at replacement rate. 

Dam, so our beloved and beneficent rulers are importing votes, sorry, people from other countries in their millions. As opposed to working towards a polity in which those governed can actually afford to have children and flourish.

This, per Tucker, is "immoral." He goes on to say that free people can defend themselves, which is to me stunningly commonsensicle.  But perhaps you disagree. If so, ask a Red Indian. 

In related news, there's some kind of debate this evening between the Doped Up Old Crook and El Senor 45. I'm in two minds, should I watch this thing, hosted by the mendacity that is CNN, or should I not? In other words, should I stay for the debate or should I go? 

#2A Forever,

LSP

Trinity Sunday

 

Typical Kitchen Glocks

Tomorrow we rightly remember and honor the fallen, today we celebrate the holy and undivided Trinity. Part of that, here at the Compound, means welcoming assorted soldiery on a weekend pass from Fort Hood. One of them, my eldest, is even a Sergeant, which seems very strange.

Perhaps you remember when Sergeants seemed pretty old. Now they're not, they're ludicrously young and full of youthful energy. That in mind, let the reader understand, would the NCO Club make it to Mass this morning?

Good question, and after Mass #1 at 0945 the Manse was ominously silent, like two minutes silence silent. You'll be pleased to know I resisted the heady urge to charge upstairs beating a wake up drum armed with a pick-axe handle, and brewed strong coffee instead. Let the kids rest, I thought to myself on the back deck, after all, they run around all week, so.

Then, irenic reverie over, lo and behold, there's a team in the dining room struggling into two button blazers and khakis. Why they couldn't do this in their rooms is and remains a mystery, but still, there it was and not bad for all that. And off we went to Mass #2 by the lake.

I'll spare you the trinitarian homily, which was a hopefully helpful Augustine/Aquinas hybrid, but I will say this: The faithful believe that a communion of divine persons in perfect love lies at the heart of reality, that ultimate Truth is personal love which loves us. The modern heathen believe in a very different God, that reality is impersonal force. You will notice, my dear friends, that people come to resemble the deity they worship. Choose wisely.

In similar news, a churchman sent me this excellent photo after Mass, from the restaurant where he was enjoying lunch. Have a look:

We must all eat at this place, and what can we say? A free man can defend himself, a slave can't. Go ask a Red Indian or someone in the UK if you doubt me.

#2A,

LSP

Don't Mess With Texas

 

Everyone's armed, so maybe some rainbow warriors outta DC are gonna take 'em away. Maybe you've seen the film, Civil War? Rock on, kids.

Stand Steady,

LSP

Christ Has Risen

 

Happy Easter,

LSP

It's All Go

It's all go here, I tell you. Monday meant a trip to the 'burbs to meet with lawyers and it went pretty well, in an all day kind of way. Before that I stopped at a Starbucks by the highway for coffee. 

Sinister

Lo and behold, there was an indigent POC crashed out on a sofa, perhaps he'd been done in by a deliciously lush Oleata, whatever that is.

Magicians? Let's See

So that was Monday, Tuesday was different again and involved driving to the corner of Greenville and Mockingbird from Dallas HQ to see Janey Tailor. Janey Tailor promises to work Korean magic on some old suits, let's see how that goes.

Look, a Drake

And today? A trip to Ray's gun shop, it's an institution, and a strangely cheap CZ Drake O/U 20. We'll see how it shoots. Back in the country now, where the air is clean.

Your Pal,

LSP

Filthy

Just look at this filthy little beast. Some people think, mistakenly, that they don't have to clean their lowly .22s. Then they wonder why the dam thing doesn't work.

 

Same goes for shotguns. Perhaps you've been on a shoot where someone's gun doesn't work because he couldn't be bothered to clean it. That in mind, I set to this morning.

Chop, chop, that SXS barrel isn't going to clean itself!

And the same applied to a couple of old pumps. Speaking of which, I like the Mossberg Ulti Mag, what a workhorse. Mind you, I might have to replace the extractors as they're getting on a bit. Not hard to do but a bit of pain.

So there you have it, all clean and ready to go unless a tragic boating accident gets in the way.

#2A,

LSP

This And That

 

Yesterday was momentous. Yes, I drove into the Mega City connurb metrosprawl that is Fort Worth/Dallas, and was reminded yet again that spaghetti junctions didn't go outta style in the 1970s. What an entanglement of concrete, but it was worth it to get to the Clergy Day at St. Vincent's Cathedral in Bedford.

Where there was a presentation by a consultant figure on character and the voice techniques associated therein. There are, apparently, various character traits, each with their own way of speaking, and understanding this is beneficial to team leadership and self-realization to boot. So what are you, a Nurturer, Pioneer or Creative?

Oh look, you're really safe now at the cathedral. How idiotic

You'll be pleased to know I turned up late and resisted the heady urge to ask, "I think you've missed something out, Imperialist, Space Imperialist, what about that?" Lord Curzon on the sands of Mars aside, it was good to spend time with fellow clergy, what a good bunch of guys, easily the best clericus I've ever served with.

And it was good to be at the cathedral too, so many memories gathered up over the years and not bad for all that. Reverie over, I climbed into the rig and headed East on murder expressway 183 to Ma LSP's place in Dallas. She was in fine form, though recovering from oral surgery, and announced, "Your parcel's arrived."

Keepers Tweed is the best tweed imo

Good! And there it was, a Keepers Tweed coat, thanks, eBay. "I tell you, Mother, these things cost a solid 600 GBP new, if you can even find 'em." She thought about this, "It's awfully heavy, perhaps you can wear it for about two days here." I replied, quick as a flash, "It's the cloth, you see, Winter coat." Which it is, and tough as nails to boot.

On the way out to the bucolic boulevards of rural Texas she gave me a Japanese altar, I think that's what it is, which belonged to her Mother who collected such things. This now sits next to the front door, sanctified by icons, guns, rods and all of that.

Maybe 18th C? I'm guessing

So there you have it, what a good day, and today being the Feast of St. Matthias it's celebration all 'round.

Cheers,

LSP

The Snake Is Back

 

That's right, the iconic blued Colt Python .357 Mag revolver is back. Discontinued in 1998, Colt saw the error of its ways and reintroduced an upgraded snake gun in 2020, featuring harder steel and a simplified action. Well done, but the new Python was stainless, all good, but somehow without the Delphic magic of the original. Now that magic's returned, here's the marketing:

The resurgence of a true legend – the Colt Python, now in a Carbon Steel Blued finish. The new Colt Python is a testament to timeless design and modern innovation. Initially offered in 4.25" and 6" barrel lengths in .357 Magnum, featuring a target adjustable rear sight and user-replaceable front sight, this legendary double-action revolver combines dependable and consistent performance with material innovations and upgraded actions. The black oxide finish, adorned with gold medallions, walnut grips, and signature vent rib barrel, pays homage to its iconic roots. The updated action ensures a consistent and reliable user experience. Responding to customer demand, the Blued Python returns, surpassing its predecessor in durability and effectiveness. The Colt Blued Python is a celebration of tradition, craftsmanship, and the relentless pursuit of perfection in every shot. Embrace the perfect blend of tradition and modern manufacturing in this reimagined classic.

 

And here's a short video:

Well done Colt for recreating a classic, I want one.

#2A,

LSP

A Shoot - In Texas

 

Do you even remember how to shoot, so-called LSP? Good question and I loaded up some guns in the rig and drove out to the range with Fr. C to find out. There we were, out in the field with a collection of guns, a few old pumps, a CZ SxS, a single shot 20, a no name Italian O/U and a collection of Rugers.

OK, all these guns, awesome, but could we shoot them? Sure enough we could, with C opening up handily with his Ruger .357 Mag revolver against steel plates. Bang. Watch those plates swing. Then it was onto shotguns.

C kicked off with his older Remington 870, which worked flawlessly, then I followed on with a Mossberg 835 Ultimag, smoke those skeet! Big fun and it was good to see the  old workhorse doing its thing, that gun's shot a lot of dove. Then my Remington 870, which worked well enough but has a rough cycle, it's newer than C's and not as good.

Next up, my CZ .20 SxS and C's 20 single shot 20, I think it's Turkish. The single worked just fine in C's capable hands and knocked our biodegradable enemy outta the sky every time. The CZ was great too, though you have to remember to sight right down the barrel, if you see the rib you'll miss.

Great result and as always, remember kids, it's important to actually aim your shotgun, firing in general direction, whilst enjoyable, tends not to hit the target. There is, perhaps, a moral in that. A box of White Flyer down, we finished off with Rugers, a .22 American, a Mk. IV 22/45 and a .357 Mag revolver.

The latter two belonged to C and I'm jealous, I want those pistols, even though I didn't shoot the Mark IV particularly well. Obviously need one to get more practice in. And it was all plinking enjoyment from thereon in, nice one.

So there you have it. Yes, both of us remembered how to shoot and shot pretty well, see those skeet smoke and explode like Focke Wulfs over the Oder. Great result, what a boost to get out and shoot, just you, the guns and the country of the great state of Texas. It clears the head, I tell you.

#2A,

LSP

Wymxn And Guns

 

Many wymxn are against guns because so violent. Get rid of gunz, they argue, and no one will shoot anyone because no gunz. Hey, it's not a bad argument, and wymxn use it all the time. 

Ban guns and there'll be less of them around, the wymxn say, and welcome to the new green rainbow gunless utopia! Unless, of course you're a criminal, in which case you've got a couple of Ukrainian AKs, an NLAW and far moar besides.

Old but Gold

That in mind, flash back to Ludlow October '22, where my friend, what a good woman, was not only against firearms but lamented the lack of police in her tiny little hamlet. No cops for miles around, no budget for that, and thank Gaia, no guns either.

"But tell me," quizzed the Colonel of the Dallas Light Cavalry (Irreg.), "What happens when some roughs out of Birmingham turn up at your door stop with a baseball bat, will you call the cops who won't be there? Yet another argument for the Second Amendment." Quite.

She frowned, stoically, and didn't press the point, being a gentlewoman, and neither did I, but let's be honest, slaves can't defend themselves and free-men can. True, eh?

Ludlow observation aside, and what a lovely town it is, things could get right rough in the next few years, if you can bear to do the math and face reality however grim. That in mind, smart people are taking note and planning accordingly. Don't say ammo and precious metal, and DOGE$, obvs.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Back In Dallas

 

At Dallas HQ on a pre-Christmas mission. Part of that involved going to Hunky's in Bishop Arts for excellent burgers. Seriously, they do a good job and you should go, but beware, it's not easy to find parking and you might have  deal with the Bat Woman muriel.

Rando Revolver

Huh, since when did Bat Woman free Palestine? Last year she was standing with Ukraine and the year before she was trusting the science, wearing a mask and getting vaxxed. Like no kidding, zhe's a right social trend barometer.

Genuinely Good Burger

Delicious burgers complete, we drove around the neighborhood, looking in awe at new apartment blocks going up in what was once shacktown ghetto. Smart people snapped those shacks up and guess what, now they're worth lots. 

A Wooden Tree With Glass

We balked at that investment opportunity, oh well, but did manage to set up a tree which glistens in the living room. Nice. In other news, the Pope's gone gay but not as gay as the Church of England, and the Senate's apparently some kind of bath house. And people are fleeing Democrat cities because Climate Change. But of course they are.

Cheers,

LSP

Random Gun Ramble

 

Get A Better Bipod

Waved the young, ahem, gentlemen off to the range via Chevy Trailblazer this afternoon and off they went with various weapons. A ChiCom SKS, a CZ SxS 20, a no-name Italian O/U 12, a Ruger American .22 and an Aero Precision AR 10, all very 7.62.

Boom, and what could possibly go wrong with this scenario? Good question, and I asked one of the young men if he was a shooter. "Not really," came the reply, "Just some time with 9s and .22," so I fixed him with a steely eye, "Just make sure you don't shoot your buddy, alright? That's a no-no." He then rattled off the rules of marksmanship and I felt marginally reassured.

Random Hallway Weapons

Well, all you parents out there, perhaps you get the concern and in case you think me somehow "micro," "helicopter" or "nanny state," consider this.

The man who owns the range, it's part of his farming empire, loves to shoot and he took his only son out to the place for some plinking enjoyment. All good, until the kid shot himself in the groin with a .22 and bled out on the way to the nearest hospital. It's a larf, right, until it isn't.

Clean the dam pistol, LSP

That in mind, the boys did well, didn't shoot each other and returned back to HQ in good style following an unreformed diner burger at Campbell's(?). Looks like a shack, is pretty much a shack, but serves great diner burgers, rock on.

Message to market. Enjoy firearms, blast away and be free, but respect the weapon for what it is. Does that sound sententious or preachy? No, just solid common sense.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Monkey Business

 

There we were, in the dead heat of a dead hot summer and we prayed, when will this heat ever end? Maybe never, so there you are at your desk, sweat dripping down onto the Dell even though your AC's running full blast like a racehorse which just can't keep up.

No kidding, the very ground is cracking under the heat and there you are, idly chopping sweating mahogany with a razor sharp kukri, chop, chop, chop, in time with failing ChiCom ceiling fan dystopia.

A knock on the door. Rap, rap, rap. You look up through the heat haze, clearing a Glock .45, "Come in!" All very Master and Commander and enter the office, and he does, a complete 5.7' of hooded aggressor. Wow, 13% produces 50% of the crime. "Where's your money at?" demands our malfeasant POC friend, waving a blunt machete and a worse than useless garbage Hi-Point.

You look hoodrat in the eye and ask, "You want money? Yeah, we all want money, so take it, it's yours, it's up the monkey, just help yourself. Hey man, have at it, feel free, it's all yours."

100% eye contact. There you are in 110* waiting on the monkey rush, call it a stand-off. So what's it gonna be? Life and death. Rush the monkey to get the cash or... not. Your call, buddy, as a dystopian fan whirs overhead, and the heat does not lessen. No, it builds.

Hoodie looks at the munificent monkey, standing tall in your corner, full off cash, a veritable simian of a floor safe, and you can see the pull of greed versus personal safety playing out in Hoodie's mind. What's it to be, rush the monkey and get the cash and die rich, or retreat out of this hot, hot room, alive.

You watch, tapping your kukri impatiently against a scarred desk, "Maybe it's time for you to go, my friend. Or maybe you want to get all up in  the Rittenhouse. Your call, go ask the monkey. It's totally up to you."

Which way would you play this utterly unlikely scenario, punters?

Cheers,

LSP

The Southern Deanery

 

There are many deaneries in the Diocese of Fort Worth but only one deanery, the Southern Deanery. I'm in charge of that, which makes me a Rural Dean, curiously. But what do I mean by "curiously"? Loyal son of the South all the way. Let's have a look, plates to prove it.

We met together tonight amidst candlelight for wine, cheese, meat and Hawaiian buns, tasted pretty good. And what good boys, all for the Faith. And that's what we're talking about, when this sinful edifice comes crashing down as it surely must, the Faith will remain.

Bless you all,

LSP