Against the wishes of the wife who hates anything that makes bad fun of Christmas, I bring you:

It is so cold down in Miami, I’ll gladly take the coal.

And it will be my last bad Christmas Joke…… this year.

I think.

‘Twas the night before the Night before Christmas, when all through the Mall

not a creature was stirring, not even a Janitor.

The Surveillance cams were hung by Starbucks with care

In the hope that a Burglar soon would be there.

The Snipers were nestled all snug in their hides

While night visions and lasers danced at any head.

And the LT’s in his shemag, and I in my tactical cap,

Had just settled down practicing double taps

When out by Sears Lawn & Garden arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the mat to see what was the target.

Away to the window I threw a flash bang,

it tore open the shutters and blew up the glass.

The green hue of the new-bought infra-red

Gave the luster of kryptonite to targets below,

When, what to my hunting eyes should appear,

But a tactical sleigh, and eight Terr friends,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Tactical Nick.

More rapid than Predators his Tangos they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Ali! now, Mohamed! now, Pancho and Viktor!

On, Carlos! on Aamir! on, Hanni and Feodor!

To the top of Borders to the top of the Gap!

Now blast away! blast away! blast away all!”

As dry debris that before the wild backblast fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, blow it to the sky,

So up to the house-top the food court they flew,

With the tac sleigh full of ammo, and Tactical Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The bouncing and falling of each hot brass case.

As I drew in my HK USP .45, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in Marpat, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot;

A bundle of grenades he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a trainer opening his Versipack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! he was running out of breath!

His cheeks were sunken, I am sure he popped Meth!

His droll little mouth was drawn up in a scowl,

And the beard of his chin was as dark as his soul.

The stump of glass pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

Full of gravy, ketchup and grease and it was quite smelly.

He was dangerous and armed, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A spakr of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know that I had to go ahead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his guns,

And filled the mall with huge amounts of lead.

And laying his finger, heavy on the triggers

And giving a howl, made the mayhem bigger;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew shooting off one last missile.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he extricated out of sight,

“Happy Tactical Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

By Gecko45.

Since Seniors are texting and tweeting, there appears to be a need for a STC (Senior Texting Code).

ATD: At The Doctor’s

BFF: Best Friend Farted

BTW: Bring The Wheelchair

BYOT: Bring Your Own Teeth

CBM: Covered By Medicare

CUATSC: See You At The Senior Center

DWI: Driving While Incontinent

FWB: Friend With Beta Blockers

FWIW: Forgot Where I Was

FYI: Found Your Insulin

GGPBL: Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low!

GHA: Got Heartburn Again

HGBM: Had Good Bowel Movement

IMHO: Is My Hearing-Aid On?

LMDO: Laughing My Dentures Out

LOL: Living On Lipitor

LWO: Lawrence Welk’s On

OMMR: On My Massage Recliner

OMSG: Oh My! Sorry, Gas.

ROFL…GU: Rolling On The Floor Laughing… And Can’t Get Up

SGGP: Sorry, Gotta Go Poop

TTYL: Talk To You Louder

WAITT: Who Am I Talking To?

WTFA: Wet The Furniture Again

WTP: Where’s The Prunes?

WWNO: Walker Wheels Need Oil

This animation making righteous fun of IDPA is doing the rounds around assorted gun blogs and forums.

I had a good laugh and most anybody that shoots IDPA also had a good old chuckle. Unfortunately, reading the comments in some of the blogs, you realize that the ButtHurt Boyz wasted no time in denouncing IDPA as the Evil of all Evils in the Shooting World. Sort of the old “IDPA will kill you in real life”  meme you found in the forums some years back. That people in our culture would actually snipe at a shooting sport is something I still cannot wrap my brain around.

This “Fuddish” attitude is baffling. What reasons would anybody have to perversely attack anything that bring people to shoot and sponsors camaraderie and interest in improving skills? Mostly can be explained by the two main class of attackers to the sport: Dumb Instructors and Cowards.

The Dumb Instructor is the guy who opens a Ultra Ninja Tactical School after he served a tour distributing MREs in some third rate National Guard unit or were members to the Meter Maid Tactical Team Towing Team in a somewhat major urban community. They wear lots of Under Armor, 5.11 and Oakley stuff, sport a butch cut and look tough for the students. Their classes consist in rehashing what the they saw on a Clint Smith video and read in a couple of Gabe Suarez books. These people resent IDPA for two reasons: 1) IDPA is an affordable way to practice some basic handgun skills compared to the high three digit and even four digit amounts of money they demand for their fake classes thus hitting them in the pockets. 2) They probably attended a couple of matches where they got absolutely burned by some 60 year old with a exceedingly protruding belly and a bad knee in both speed and accuracy and they resent the shit out of the fact.

The Cowards tend to be those who are simply too scared to risk being embarrassed by a bad performance in front of other people or having proclaimed to the world their “badness”, do not wish anybody to know most of their “badness” is based in static range practice or XBox scores. Or in a moment of weakness they actually participated in a match and the total time for the match was scored in weeks rather than seconds with points down equaling the Stock Market crash of the 1920’s. So rather than admit they need to improve, It becomes much safer for their ego to criticize from afar and echo the complaints of the Dumb Instructors than actually have the balls to step into Position One, wait for the timer’s beep and actually shoot under pressure match after match.

The only ones I will not criticize are those who actually do not find the sport appealing and choose some other form of shooting to have fun. If you have attended an IDPA match and simply not found it to your liking, God Bless and I hope you are shooting in a activity you truly love. I am not a fan of Cowboy Action Shooting or IPSC but I cannot bring myself to say anything bad about them because they are fellow shooters doing their part and I admire them for it. Besides, have you seen CAS shooters reloading & shooting their shotguns? Suckers are damn good, you need a Class III gun and lots of ammo to face them somewhat evenly.

I was going to finish with a long list of notable and knowledgeable people who actually compete and promote IDPA, but I had enough for today. I leave you instead with a quote by some unimportant instructor that nobody knows:

” If you worry about shooting a match and “Oh My God! I’ll never get over it if I come in dead last,” consider you are pretty close to the one in a million people who is willing to test their skills at this. If you ever do come dead last, you still came out ahead of a few hundred thousands of people who thought they were cool but didn’t have the guts to get out there and test themselves like you just did.”

Massad Ayoob on IDPA

Not a single TactiCool School I know of teaches you for this eventuality:

Resident Eduardo Monteagudo said he witnessed the attack. “He was cooking and the monkey got on his shoulder and when he saw it, he tried to hit it and it bit him on the ear,” he said

The attacker eventually surrendered to authorities and will face a Florida Wildlife Monkey Judge. OK I don’t know if we have one of those but the way things work in Florida, I wouldn’t be surprised.

So, what do you use for a Home Invasion by monkey? I’d say shotgun with #6 for close range work.

Nifty page found by accident. An ‘ear” opener.

Keep in mind that conversational speech is approximately 60-65 dB, and the threshold of pain is considered to be 140 dB. According to Dr. William Clark, Ph.D. senior research scientist in charge of the NOISE LABORATORY at the Central Institute for the Deaf in St. Louis, the damage caused by one shot from a .357 magnum pistol, which can expose a shooter to 165 dB for 2msec, is equivalent to over 40 hours in a noisy workplace.

Or 3 seconds next to any Rice Burner banging Rap next to you at a stop light.

1) It is my Reasoned Discourse and I’ll cry wolf if I want to.

2) When proved I am wrong, deny, belittle or ignore.

3) When painted into a logical corner, accuse my “painter” of being violent and claim to be threatened. Ban him from the blog.

4) “Coming to a compromise” means I get everything I want.

5) When in doubt just say “I don’t accept it.”

6) It is morally superior to be an unarmed victim of violent crime.

7) It is immoral to defend yourself or your family with a gun, unless you are anti-gun.

8 ) Data is flexible. Bend it to my needs.

9) Above all remember: you are dealing with uncouth rednecks that hump their sisters and live in trailer parks. Be kind because they are not as smart as you.