Another Day In Texas

 

What a beautiful, clear, springlike day in rural Texas, and I tell you, it was all go at the Compound. Salvador was up on a ladder, scraping, caulking and priming, these wooden houses have to be kept up, and Carlos was busy with his crew inside the church, where they were replacing an interior window frame.

Well done Team. Catching the spirit of the thing, and not wanting to seem like some kind of idle layabout, I set to, polishing a serried rank of loafers. Those shoes weren't going to shine themselves! The same held true for a couple of guns.

Apply cleaning rod, patches, Hoppes, and get those weapons fit to fight. You see, if you don't clean them they get dirty, and a dirty gun left untended has a nasty habit of not working. Some of you may have noticed that out in the field.

Cleaning imperative complete, it was time to dial up the Royal Scots Club in Edinburgh with a view to a September exeat. Why the long lead time? Because if you don't get on the RSC early, you won't get the excellent room at truly excellent value that you want.

What a great little club in a neat city, check it out if you can. In the meanwhile, all's well in this part of the North Central Texas Exclusion Zone.

Your Friend,

LSP

All Souls - New Gun

 

A friend gave me his old, rusting, neglected barn gun today, a Remington 870. It was a mess but the bore was clean enough, so I took the beast home and applied Hoppe's and a bore brush.

Filthy Gopping Mess

You should've seen the rust liquefy off, what a nasty, minging, filthy mess. But what a good result in the end, a clean gun, ready to shoot and do battle against the avian adversary and their clay simulacra.

A Clean Gun Is A Happy Gun

That in mind, say a prayer for the repose of the soul of Ronnie Storrs, it was his gun and he wasn't above using it on people who made the foolish mistake of messing about on his land unannounced.  Well, may he rest in peace and may his 870 find a place in the Compound's armory.

#2A

Have a blessed Feast of All Souls and as always,

Gun Rights.

LSP

Build The Wall & Other Things

The Compound's fortunate in many ways, not least for having a sturdy wall. It's made of wood and topped off with a flexi-mesh system to keep out illegal chickens. I know, it sounds cruel, "think of the children!," but it's doing them a favor. 

You see, they fly over looking for a new life, then Blue Terminator kills them, and the poor birds get breasted and turn into jalapeno poppers. Who knows, maybe America's southern border will have a wall one day too. 

Then there's the statues. Do you remember them? All those Confederate statues which prevented people of color from escaping the oppression of systemic racism?

These obviously need to go and many have, leaving a gaping void in our civic landscape. This needs to be filled and quickly, but by what? The answer's clear, statues of a new hero, the Grand Commander, President Trump. In gold obviously, yes, real gold.

In other news, I was going to ride but it's raining and don't want  to slip and skid in the slushy mud of the Texan tundra. So it's time to clean guns instead.

Don't forget, all four of you readers, a clean gun is a happy gun.

Cheers,

LSP

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,

LSP

A Clean Gun Is A Happy Gun

Remember, if you don't clean the filthy beasts they don't work. To that end, here's a short inspirational video.

As you were, 

LSP

Strip The SKS

Being a Russian bot's a lot of fun but it does involve work, such as exposing secret societies, FIB corruption and cleaning your various weapons systems. Not least the handy, fun to shoot SKS (Samozaryadny Karabin sistemy Simonova), designed in 1943 and still going strong today.

So here's a short infovideo which we hope you find as helpful as we do here at the Compound. #WeAreRussianBots #LockThemUp

Shoot straight,

LSP

Cleansing The Temple

I preached this morning on Our Lord throwing the money changers and animal sellers out of the Temple. And I managed to include the words "bag limit," "Polled Herefords," and "cattle brokers" into the sermon. 

Random Money Changer

The Baylor faculty got a look-in, too. "If the Baylor Faculty were to sin, heaven forfend," I declaimed, "They could buy the finest bull from Mr.***** here, and kill it. But what difference would it make? None at all. It would be, at best, a symbol."

The homily was on atonement and sacrifice, obviously.

God bless,

LSP