Showing posts with label Glock 21. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glock 21. Show all posts

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,


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,


Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Eat A Peach - Cooking With LSP

There you are, in the midst of an Agenda 21, Kalergi replacement project when one of the the test subjects asks if you'd like some peaches. "Sure, that'd be great," and there they were, thanks to Eduardo and Maria, a basket of wild fruit. What to do?

Not tender enough to eat, so boil 'em up, blanche with ice water, remove skins, or not, and slice those peaches up. Then add a few tablespoons of brown sugar, flour and lemon juice to the mix. Bring to a boil and set the fruity thing aside.

In the meanwhile, combine 1 cup of flour, 3/4 of a cup of light brown sugar, cinnamon and a lot of butter, a stick (8 Tbls). Mix it up with your fingers until the thing's crumbly but clings together. This is your "crumble" or "topping" or whatever, it's not like there's some kind of weird rule.

Congratulate yourself on this achievement and watch Geobbels on BitChute. How could he have been such a monster as to kill his beautiful children? Same applies to you, Magda. Well, there's a special place in Hell for those who kill children, but let's not dwell on the infernal logic of the Pit.

Instead, put the beast in the oven for around 40 minutes at #375, take it out, let it cool for a bit and then, fall on your scoff like a warrior. Don't be shy, soldiers.

Your Ally,


Monday, June 29, 2020

Cheer Up Kids, It's Not All Bad!

Don't be sad, readers, statues have their say too.

And so do Labs.

Uncle Don's standing strong too. See Rasmussen.

In related news, the Episcopal Church's local representative just drove by in his red Porsche. Odd, in a 67 year-old man? Perhaps. Whatever, he assured me the Mission's missing millions had been returned to the church's frozen investment account. 

"Thank you! So much better than a lawsuit in Tarrant county, don't you think?" which is exactly what would've happened otherwise.

Sadly Lost in a Terrible Boating Accident

I invited my friend to a cheerful glass of wine, and a celebration of the successful conclusion of our business. He declined, curiously.

Don't say embezzlement,


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, 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.



Sunday, March 22, 2020

Private Mass

While not able to worship publicly at this time, I did offer the Mass this morning on all our behalf. This service is known as a Missa sine populo (Mass without the people) or a Private Mass. 

However, the grace in this worship is very far from private and ripples or reverberates throughout the whole Church, not least our part of it.

This is because all of us are joined to Christ and one another in a mystical, spiritual communion. As the Apostle Paul teaches us, "For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body." (1 Cor. 12:13) And so the blessing of even one faithful Communion at the Eucharist extends to us all.

Please know that you were all offered up at the Altar of Our Lord this morning and rest assured of my daily prayers. May God bless, preserve and keep you. 

Be strong in Him and take courage, for Christ has "overcome the world,"(Jhn. 16:33) and neither death nor Hell itself have any power over us.

With much love and every blessing,


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, July 30, 2019

LSP - All Talk No Action?

So Where's The Action Buddy?

Yeah, so what about the new rig and the lever gun, so-called "LSP," if that's your real name, which we doubt. 

Good question, and right about now the readers of this popular if lighthearted mind blog are wondering if it's all talk and no action. Sure, you talk the talk, "LSP," but where's the walk?

Where's the fishing, the guns, the horses, where's all of that? Where's the country life we don't pay good money to see played out in real time, straight from a rural haven deep in the heart of Texas? Where is it? I'll tell you.

Shaolin Glory Brexit

First off, unexpected evolution with a returning son; there goes the rig and the gun. Secondly, recovering from being kicked off the back of an Arab, who btw self-identifies as a woman, and being tended to by a dog and a recruit. 

Will the leg heal in time to see the kid off to Basic? To find out I hopped and climbed into the rig and drove to Walmart. Guess what? No problem, couldn't have done it a week ago. So there is movement and this, philosophers, signifies life. Which in this instance is made up of small triumphs.

In other news, the European Union's setting up an Army! The world trembles at the dread step of the rainbow phalanx. Who knows, perhaps the enemy'll die laughing.

Advance to contact,


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,


Wednesday, March 13, 2019

This & That

The day started off well, with strong covfefe on the porch.

It moved ineluctably to guns, note health food.

And now? Stations of the Cross.

God bless,


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,