Showing posts with label .45 ACP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label .45 ACP. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Boy's Alright


Hadn't spoken with the Private for a while and Mama LSP was a bit worried, "How's he doing?!?" sort of thing. Probably well, I assured her, suggesting no news is good news. And so perhaps it is; the kid's doing fine, taking courses and getting the most out of the Army so far. Well done. Fit to fight.

Other children take a different course, they want to stick it to the Man because they're revolutionaries and hope to bring about an Anarcho-Communist utopia. It's a beautiful vision, playing out right now in real time in Kentucky. But what's gonna happen when push comes to shove?

I'll cut to the chase. One section of one one platoon would sort out our Marxist friends in about as many seconds as it'd take to say the Biden crime family's corrupt as hell. And don't think for a moment that the rank and file aren't ready to move from safe to fire.

Or do. Give it a go and find out. Regardless, the kid's enjoying S. Korea and levelling up. Well done.



Monday, September 14, 2020

Cooking With LSP - Chicken Pot Pie

What? Cooking with LSP, that's both dangerous and stupid. Not so fast punters, here's how it's done.

First up, get some chicken thighs (4) for around 5 bucks at Walmart, or wherever. Boil them with salt and pepper, maybe a bay leaf, in a pot for around 30 minutes. Then remove the boiled thighs to your fridge in a bowl to cool down. Keep the water they were boiled in, this is your stock, chicken stock.

In the meanwhile, melt 1/4 cup of unsalted butter in yet another pot. Add 2 sliced carrots, a small chopped onion, a sliced stick of celery, and maybe some garlic, your call. Simmer these in the butter for 5 minutes or so. Wow, look at that, vegetables. So very healthy.

Next step, add 1/3 cup of flour to the simmering veg. Stir it about, then pour 2 cups of your homemade chicken stock into the mix, followed by a cup or so of frozen peas. Stir that too and watch in wonder as it reaches creamy consistency. If it doesn't, add more flour, if it's too thick add more stock. While you're at it, apply salt, pepper and a dash or two of Worcestershire Sauce.

Let it all combine and simmer for around 20 minutes, stirring. In the meanwhile, you've removed all the chicken from the bone, fed the dog with chicken skins, chopped up some mushrooms, washed up and... added chicken and mushroom to the pot.

Stir it up. Let it simmer. No need to rush and freak out, have a glass of wine and admire your pistol, or kukri. Bull up a shoe, a gas mask, clean a gas regulator, shine a cap badge or whatever comes to hand. Reverie over, unfold some unfrozen puff pastry, roll it out on a floured surface and stand by, you're almost there.

Pour the pie mix into whatever counts as your pie dish. Cover the mix with a rolled out sheet of pastry, maybe add some leftover pastry bits to the thing by way of fun. No matter, your call, then put it in a 375* preheated oven for around 30 minutes.

At the end of which, take the pie out of the oven and fall upon your scoff.

Like a warrior,


Sunday, September 6, 2020

Sunday Sermon

Here's a Sunday sermon, but not from me, I'm too busy sharpening  quills, dusting off ammo pouches and polishing .45s. Regardless, this preacher says you can't be a Catholic and vote Democrat. 

I'd agree, just substitute Christian for catholic, are the two synonymous? and there you go.

You CANNOT be a Catholic -- or a CHRISTIAN and vote DEMOCRAT.



Saturday, September 5, 2020

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Glock?

We're just hanging around at the Compound and wondering, is the Pen mightier than the Glock? Good question, let's do a quick thought experiment and see where it takes us.

You're in a restaurant in Rochester New York, enjoying Italian fusion cuisine with a twist, having a good time. Life is good after months of lockdown. Then, suddenly, as if out of the very aether, up comes a mob of rampaging undergraduate Marxists.

They're overturning tables, screaming, bullhorn in your face. Yes, you, you systemic racist Nazi, are guilty of eating out while white. So what do you do? Pull out your Glock and shoot the nearest Bolshevik or, and here's the rub, pick up the pen your lefty waiter's ironically delivered to you and stab the commie in the neck?

I'd argue that the Pen, in this instance, is paradoxically mightier than the Glock, even though it's an ostensibly lesser weapon. Granted, more bloodthirsty than a pistol, but seemingly less so. More to the point, you might not have a Glock or even be allowed one in Rochester. Different story with a Pen. Every restaurant has one, delivered right to your table, unlike pistols, which aren't.

In similar vein, you may have noticed that 45's banned racist critical race theory training in the federal alphabet. No longer, we hope, will Marxist 5th Columnists be paid on the taxpayer dime to teach government employees that they're guilty of "whiteness," and have to be "dismantled" along with the country they serve. No more racism masquerading as tolerance, by Executive Order.

Trump did this at the stroke of a Pen, without firing a single shot. I rest my case, feel free to disagree.

Gun Rights, 


Sunday, August 30, 2020

A Sunday Sermon

Shadow LSP

Conversation in the sacristy before Mass #2 went like this:

"Have you seen the video of the Portland execution last night?"
"Another shooting?"
"Yes, dude rolled up on a skateboard and shot a Trump supporter who was crossing the road."
"Yes, they cheered afterwards."
"Keep this going on and there's gonna be pushback, serious pushback."

A beautiful unicorn

Said the former artillery officer. "Let's think happy thoughts before church," replied the MC who's also a retired rodeo star, bronc. Not being slow to listen to the laity I replied, "As in unicorns, rainbows and bunnies?" The MC, who gives as good as he gets, wasn't slow either, "Just say your prayers, LSP."

A typical defense rifle

Here endeth the Lesson and while we're at it, "Get thee behind me Satan!" Vade retro Satana! 

Be brave and rebuke the unclean spirit, a murderer from the beginning and Father of Lies. Say no to the world, the flesh and Devil, say yes to the Way of the Cross, of sacrificial love which is the way of light and life.


Friday, August 21, 2020

Random Guns

One of the many themes of this widely read international mind blog is God. That in mind, I was going to post a photo of an evil cryptid caught in a game cam followed by allusion to the current antics of the Anglican Non-Communion. But no, here's some random black gun pics instead. 

The 5.56 carbine started off life as a CMMG LE something or other and's gone through several upgrades. It's a handy little heater, light, reliable, plenty of red dot accuracy (Ballistic Advantage barrel, Hypertouch Enhanced Duty trigger), and just a lot of fun to shoot.

My old Mossberg Ultimag 12's seen plenty action too and it's been a workhorse since I bought it a decade ago, second hand at a gunshow for 200 bucks. Birds, rabbits, clay/skeet and various varminting, armed walkabouts. Well done, gun. Probably time for an upgrade though, as its ejection's getting a bit unreliable, despite replacing the ejectors, polishing the chamber etc.

And what's wrong with an Aero Precision 7.62 AR? Nothing at all, though they're heavy and who wants an exercise in weight lifting when you've got other things to think about? 

Still, it shoots like a champ with the easy recoil of a 20 gauge; zeroed at 200 yards for 165 grain ammo. I've only shot targets with the thing but my eldest boy's taken down a few hogs with it. Take that, tuskers. But what gun post's complete without a pistol?

Here's one, a kitchen drawer Glock 21 which stands ready and waiting put down tried and true .45 ACP if the occasion demands, or if it doesn't. I've had 1000s of rounds of gratuitous enjoyment putting this piece of Austrian engineering through it's paces against paper, steel, kettles, scrap iron, rocks, concrete, melons, stuffed toys and whatever else. Are Glocks the best of their kind? I don't know, I'm no expert, but I do like mine. 

Remember this, a free citizen is able to defend himself, a slave isn't.

Gun rights,


Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Weapons Hot Or Not So Hot?

It's 11.30 pm in North Central South Dallas. 3 shots were just fired close to the house, and there's sporadic gunfire in the distance. Choppers constant. Probably some Mexicans celebrating Wednesday; this is, after all, south of the river. Whatever, weapons hot. Or are they?

Comsymps and self-loathing, bend-the-knee libs think they aren't. Get rid of guns and you'll get rid of violence and everywhere will be Sweden, a veritable Ikean utopia. Unless you're one of the Swedish women who's recovering from being raped by a military age, Moslem refugee. 

Sweden aside, what makes you think a disarmed populace has nothing to fear from criminals who notoriously don't obey the law? By the time those three shots are slamming into your house or a gang of joggaz are running at you with 2x4s it's too late, right?

Point being, you don't need to be armed until you do, and if you're at that point without a weapon it's pretty much too late.

That we've come to the point where I feel that it's necessary to guard my Mother's house with a gun(s) is abhorrent to me. But there it is, humanity's fallen and pretending otherwise doesn't cut it.

In the meanwhile, gunfire's stopped for now, chopper overwatch continues.

Weapons hot,


Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Dindu Almost Gets Himself Shot - or a True Tale of Fatal Consequence in the Old Dominion

Several weeks ago an old friend was in a Lowes car park outside of Richmond, Virginia. As he was about to enter his vehicle he was charged by a crazed, shirtless Dindu, screaming "I'm gonna f*ck you up, mothaf*cka cracka!" My friend produces a pistol, a Tokarev of all things, and there it is, "Stop or I will shoot."

The Dindu swerves away and charges another man getting into his rig, same scenario but this man's more formidably armed with a .45, which he levels at the attacker who again runs off. So no harm done, though my pal was pretty rattled.

Some Dindus in Georgia. Angel Ahmaud Center

"LSP, I've shot at people from a distance but never up close. One more second, or less, and I would've fired."

Imagine the result if he had. Headlines, protests, perhaps a show trial, and all because yet another holy, innocent angel was sent across the glittering rainbow bridge. Perhaps you're tempted to say Ahmaud Arbery, and we'll wait and see how the case of that utterly innocent jogga works itself out.

A Busted Dindu

In the meanwhile, I advised my pistoleer colleague to upgrade to a .45 carry. "Think about it, old chap. Stopping power, important, and picture the trial, 'Crazed white gunman fires six shots into unarmed black bystander' versus two shots. Do the math."

Speaking of math, 13.5% of the population commit over 50% of the crime and what, 85% of violent crime in this country. We're not allowed to draw attention to this curious statistic for some reason.

Gun rights,


Wednesday, April 22, 2020


You know what it's like. There you are in the midst of a pandemic threatening to shut down Western Civ, what's left of it anyway, so whaddya do? 

Go for an armed stroll 'round town at 11 pm to see what's up. Load up and off you go, born to have adventure, sort of thing.

But what was up? Not very much. Flags were flying but the streets were empty. Had a neutron bomb gone off? Would you hit anyone if you fired a canon down the middle of the street? No.

So I strolled about and went to the downtown filling station for Marlboro Lights, then stood in the middle of the road and took photos. There wasn't any traffic, it's all shut down because of China, you see. Not that it's especially very busy ever.

Heading home, First Methodee was all lit up but no one was home and the Meth Shack was getting it on with a "domestic." I sensibly ignored the furor and strolled by, round in the chamber. And that was that, mission accomplished.

Message? If you're going walkabout, take a gun.



Monday, December 23, 2019

The Shoot Before Christmas

"Up for a shoot, old chap?" The Private didn't need much prompting and sprang out of bed, eager to show off his skills. "I reckon I'll smoke you on the AR," he quipped in a merry two days before Christmas kind of way. 

"I reckon there'd be something wrong if you didn't," I replied in the famously understated way of irregular cavalry, "But first I have to walk the Blue." The Blue being a dog, obviously.

That done, off we went to the range with a couple of .45s, an AR, a 20 SxS, and a big box of bullets courtesy of; thanks, guys, great result. And what a good day for it, the sun shone, the ground was firm, the air clean in a big Texan sky, and all was well. 

CZ 20

First things first, we set up a silhouette along with a few playing cards and warmed up on the .45s. I kicked off with a Glock 21 and pounded five rounds into an approximation of the X Ring. OK, for a rusty shooter. The kid followed on and did well with a PX4 Storm, the green terr was definitely down. We moved onto playing cards at 10 yards.

Hmmm. Rusty.

I know, nothing outrageously skilled, unless you're out of practice like me, but we put the paper beast back in its box and had plenty of fun to boot. Nice. Then onto the 20 and a box of skeet, which we hurled redneck style into the sky. They mostly got smoked. 

Go Army

Next up? AR, and disaster struck. The battery'd died and the helpful red dot was no more. Good thing the weapon had back up iron sights. We blasted away like good 'uns, mostly against steel plates which swang like fury at the impact of the small but forceful 5.56. 

Did the kid "smoke me on the AR"? No, but I feel he would've if the shoot had gone on much longer and he got the feel of weapon. More training, you see. But what a neat little beast, Hipertouch trigger, Bison barrel and lightweight furniture. Far better, thought the Private, than issue. Such, perhaps, is the value of being irregular.


We finished off with .45s against steel plates and had a blast knocking the adversary about. Boom, off you go. And then it was time to head for home, mission accomplished.

I love shooting, I scorn the DNC. And thanks, CheapAmmo for making the whole day possible. Great result, and your bullets worked too, like fury. Result.

Gun Rights, 


PS. Look, they helped the Compound out so I want to return the favor. Check out CheapAmmo, they support our troops. Good, right?

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Just Driving Around In An Oven

"How's it goin' Padre?"
"A bit chilly, what?"

Meaning it's 105* in the shade and Devil take the hindmost. Undaunted by an I'm in a preheating oven kind of feeling, I climbed into the rig and drove to the Pick 'n Steal. Old habits die hard and there, predictably, was First Baptist shining in the sun.

I always wonder if being First translates to Best. Do the First Families of the town go to the  first baptist church in the town? Perhaps they do, though once they would've been Episcopalien. Well, we messed that up.

Whatever, unfold the frame and scoot across the melting asphalt to the Shamrock and the best filling station coffee in town. I tell you, the shop's AC's a welcome relief. How did Texans get by without air conditioning?

Well, they mostly didn't because no one wanted to move here before it happened. Note, Dallas and the associated metrosprawl have only ballooned out of proportion subsequently. Which brings us to shooting.

A few years ago I'd think nothing of getting out in the heat and blasting away for a day in the August sun. 105*? Whatever, pass the ACP and all the rest. Now? Not so much. 

Mind you, I don't have much choice coz the leg's busted. How's that going to work out for September 1 and dove? Set up on a tailgate with a couple of Mojos out front and a 20? 

This, as with so much in life, remains to be seen. In the meanwhile, try not to melt.

God bless,


Monday, April 1, 2019

April Fools Shoot

CC swung by from the metrosprawl with a truckload of guns, he especially wanted to see if an old Winchester 1200 pump worked after visiting an armorer. We drove out into the Texan countryside to find out. 


The 1200 was up first against the clays, which call themselves White Flyers even though they're orange. Anyway, hopes were high that the Winchester was going to work, it usually doesn't, and CC lined up to shoot, "Pull!" and off flew the orange adversaries into a big sky. Boom, down went a few clays, it looked like the gun was working.

A Glock & A Ruger

Until it didn't. After the first few rounds the troubled beast didn't want to feed, had trouble ejecting and then stopped firing altogether. You'd chamber a round, squeeze the trigger and... nothing. I advised CC to sell the April Fools gun to a pawn shop or part ex it for something useful.

Winchester Model 90?

We changed over to a CZ Bobwhite 20 and merrily smoked skeet till all the ammo was gone. What a lot of fun and what a great little gun. Thanks, TC. After a short bout with a Ruger Redhawk (sorry, Security 6) .357 Magnum and a Glock 21 .45, it was time to plink.

The Range

Shotgun shells, cans, milk jugs, bits of broken skeet, steel plates and more all fell under a deadly hail of .22 LR sent via Ruger and Remington. Hours of enjoyment and then it was time to head back to the Compound, a good time had by all.

Big Sky

In related news, New Zealand's banned pump action shotguns so that only criminals can have them. Now they're much safer.

Gun rights,


Monday, March 11, 2019

Monday Shoot

One of the good things about Mondays is you can shoot, provided the new Ice Age doesn't have you snowed in and it didn't, so off I went to the range. Nothing fancy, just a Ruger American .22 and a Glock 21 .45.

I hadn't shot the Glock in a while and wondered if it'd work. It did, blasting rounds into the X Ring like a good 'un at around 15 yards. Things opened up a bit at 25 yards and I wasn't surprised, given lack of practice.

Then it was time for the old playing card trick at 10 yards and they met their match, thanks to Austrian engineering and the mighty .45 ACP. But my shooting was getting erratic, time to move on while the going was good.

And there it was, the humble .22, ready to go with a fixed 4 power scope. Was it on? Kind of ish but to be honest I'd forgotten what the little beast was zeroed for, so I unscientifically dialed it in at 50 yards.

After a bit of tweaking the scope seemed on enough and Little Green was taking damage. Sorry, fella, you lose this thankfully one sided firefight.

Then it started to rain and it was time to head back to the Compound, mission accomplished. Needed pistol practice and a pleasant zero-in plinkathon with the Ruger.

The trail out of the range always looks as though it'll present some target of opportunity, like a coyote, a small gang of pigs or even a rabbit, but it never does, oddly. Regardless, there it was, a good afternoon out in the country well spent.

Gun rights,