Neanderpundit

Actually, what I told the Ogwife was, “Kiss me I’m a genius”

She’s been having difficulty with the ABS on the Escape, and I’m not in posession of the magical ABS scan tool, so it’s a tough diagnosis. I went through everything I knew- but no dice. Finally, unable to do much electronically, I started testing the air gap between the sensors and the tone ring, and found that one sensor was almost .120 high! it seems a piece of ice or dirt or something had gotten jammed up under the sensor and pushed it up, causing it to not sense the tone ring all the time. Woof!

Cleaned it, reaffixed it, and voila! A functional ABS system. Without anything but labor expended.

Good lord, am i glad of this.

as much as I lurves it

has developed an annoying malf, and it is Gonna Get Fixed.

If you cock the rifle manually, it gives you a solid and reliable two stage trigger pull, but if you cycle it nomally, the trigger doesn’t seem to have two stages and will break unexpectedly.

Now, I can SHOOT this rifle. And I am got-damned if a freakish trigger is going to change that.

SO I have to drill out a few cases and seat some bullets to make action proving dummies.

I don’t know if it’s dirt or a weak spring or what, but I will have this SOB working properly by the next NPCCC military match.

come from far afield.

On the way to the range today, Partner (Easily the smartest person I know) and I are humming the Burl Ives song I tortured you all with last week.

“Great. Two functional brain cells working and they have this damned song caught in a loop”

“Actually,” I said, “I think all the other shit is still there. All those hooky bubblegum songs. All that crazy shit they tried to pump into our heads in high school. I think the loudest one just cows the others”

“Like the lobster who got the rubberband off his claw” he responds.

And in a flash I’m taken back, almost twenty years, to a double date we were on (I think. he thinks it was just us boys). We sat in the waiting area with a couple women whose locks we fully intended to pick later that selfsame evening, and watched as a rather large lobster who had managed to slip the rubberband off one claw had cowed the other lobsters in the tank- it sat in the middle, king of it’s domain, while the other lobs kept to the ends and corners of the tank lest they lose extremities.

yes, I thought, that’s a goddamned powerful metaphor for not only the way your brain catches a thought, or an earworm, but also how one person slips the rubberband off his claw and tries to take over the show.

I specifically asked for that lobster, and I ate his ass.

You may think your a big shit now, but sooner or later, something bigger is gonna come along and eat your ass, and their digestive system will turn you into shit.

I have actual hope for this country now.