I have been blissfully ignorant of most things sports for six months. It is time to mount that NFL beast and figure out targets for that sweet auction cash. There is no way I could manage this with MLB.

Monday Night Poker: I placed second in the main tourney and took out the bounty player for an additional hard cash prize. The main game went long, so no Omaha.

My quiet .22lrs arrived! My local big box retailer had target .45 ACP on the shelf! The prices for both were steeper than I would have liked, but it might be the last time I buy ammo at COVID inflated prices. Time to quietly punch holes in paper.

Last night: Pork tenderloin with a commercial dry rub on the grill. The taste made me happy.

I have been hunting for some subsonic .22lr ever since the Wu Flu turned the ammunition supply upside down. A random check of the interwebs today brought me to CCI's homepage where everything in any other usable caliber was sold out. But fifty boxes of low-speed .22lr were available for $6 per. Not normal priced, but also not obnoxious either. The shipping screwed the cost-per-round. CCI was offering free shipping for orders over $99, but with no .380, .45 ACP, or 9mm in inventory, there was no purchasing combo to reach that threshold. I am excited to hear (or not hear) that CCI running through my Rugged Obsidian, especially in shorty mode.

I took down the No-Limit Omaha game last Monday. I made up for my early exit from the main Texas Hold 'Em. I didn't mind so much getting knocked out early because the host also was eliminated around the same time. We grabbed cigars and started a fire in the backyard pit. It was a chill way to wait for the second tournament to start.

I am going make some bacon and eggs this morning. "Bacon and eggs" is a common breakfast combination, but I would bet that few would consider that a complete breakfast without toast or English muffin. In fact, I wouldn't bother making bacon and eggs if I didn't have white bread for toast accompaniment. I am going to the store to get bread this morning for that reason. In a restaurant, serving bacon and eggs without toast is a credible reason to send the entire meal back and demand a breakfast steak instead. Hash-browns are no substitute for toast. Noodles are never appropriate before noon. Unless you are a starving poor, neither Birch, nor Beech, are tree types upon which to base your breakfast syrup. Canadian Maple is the one-and-only true source for syrup.

Latest gin experiment: Gray Whale

I like it. It does have a noticeably unique flavor profile without being in-your-face with a particular botanical. I keep calling it Blue Whale because of it's bottle's color. The hook is that all the botanical flavorings are available along the whales' migratory journey. They come off as totally hippy when describing their sustainable sources for the ingredients of sea kelp, fir, juniper, lime, and mint. That sentiment slams into a brick wall when they mention their final ingredient: Almonds. I am happy to run California's unsustainable agricultural policies straight into the ground by drinking the Gray Whale and eating Nature Valley Almond bars.

Latest rum experiment given as a gift: Zacapa 23 Centenario

Smooooooth. Something Guatemala can be proud to call its own. I would drink this on the deck overlooking the water with a good friend. Or the person I am drinking this with on a deck overlooking the water might become a good friend.

I am amazed that fantasy football preparation time is almost here. Core found us a meeting place. Tony has a flight into GRR booked. I haven't checked, but I imagine the Commish has the website up-and-running. Did I hear there is an extra game this year? Aren't they watching the shit-show the NBA finals have become? That waiver-wire budget is becoming more important than the auction budget.

I just found out that a proper full-sized, metal-deck peripheral and crowd-source software is available to turn a PC into a Dance Dance Revolution machine. Once the crypto miners have their fill of microchips, my planned Microsoft Simulator 2020 machine might be pulling double-duty. We're gonna need some bigger speakers.

It is somewhat disturbing how the father of Brittney Spears is still controlling her life (by controlling all the money). Her recent comments about being under a forced-sterility regime seems like an impossibility in what is supposed to be a free America. She must be a special level of crazy for the courts to mandate such a tight conservatorship To be clear, Brittney cannot have a baby currently because she doesn't have the money to pull her IUD. What I find odd is that her 26-year-old boy-toy doesn't make enough money as a model/Gold's Gym trainer to float her the removal cost. You'd think he would want that anchor-baby with Spears as a more reliable way to stay plugged into the potential windfall when Brittney finally has her dad assassinated. Forbes says dad's pre-tax earning since taking over in 2008 is around five million U.S.D. Jamie Lynn must keep her mouth shut.

First time playing with the Monday night crowd in over year yielded a second-place finish for this guy.

Final heads up hand: my K-3 not suited, against 6-8 not suited.

That player had been pulling middle straits out of his ass all night, but the final hand, all he had to do was pair his six on the flop.

In March, some people were encouraged to use their apps to enter a contest to get sweet Peeps-flavored cola drinks in custom designer cans from Pepsi. Unlike most people who responded, I did that thing that I believe the law requires of any contest runner: I used my flippy 4G phone to illuminate an index card in order to create an old-fashioned write-in entries (limit 2 per person). How does one get selected out of a pool of InstaSnaps? I don't know either. But when only me and Granny McPhee's four write-ins are put into that re-purposed Bingo tumbler, I am running a solid 50/50.

Until I win. Then it is all 100% bliss:

They even threw in a package of those rancid Yellow Peeps.

I haven't opened the pink or blue can yet, but I had to share that yellow bastard with people nearby. It tastes like those colored marshmallows I had access to as a lil' tot. In this day and age of no artificial stuff in the food, I am not sure if green and blue marshmallows exist anymore. But they did once, and they tasted just like this pop starts. The mid-range gains a peep (pun int.) of cola flavor. The finish is complete mental confusion. You should not want to take another tiny sip, but you will. By the end of the can, I was convinced that this is a viable seasonal product. Some chick might pair her Skinny booze with it instead of eating cake. Of course, it ain't no Baja Blast, my favorite seasonal pop--because fuck going into a Taco Bell.

Things I still cannot properly buy at a non-ludicrous prices: handgun ammunition, rifle ammunition; computer motherboards, chips, video cards, RAM; tackle boxes, organizer boxes; rifle parts, rifles; and until recently, lightweight outer-layer vests

I have recently been scouting estate sale announcements. I do not expect to find the things listed above at these sales, but I am looking for deep-discount padlocks out of old farm barns and tool sheds. So far, my lock-picking skills have defeated every padlock found in my residence. I am cautiously excited about an upcoming farm sale in May with this line item: 75 padlocks. There is a separate line item that, no-shit, reads: hundreds of keys. God, I hope those keys are all the padlock keys along with every other key this farmer ever owned all jumbled in an ice cream bucket. If that is the case, I am the sole bidder, buying me 75 pickables for pennies--not on-the-dollar, just pennies. I want to buy 50lbs of steel and brass in the shape of 75 padlocks for pocket change. Or $5. I will give them $5, if necessary.

Also, I have sent away for extra tensioners, using at least six different ones for successful opens. But as far as my picks/rakes, there can be only ONE:

The short hook.

(Props to the Internet for the picture. I couldn't be bothered to find and shoot my own.)

MH is rewiring the Thrustmaster stick and throttle from '93 to work USB. If this works, I might soon be teaching myself to fly with Microsoft Flight Simulator 2020. We shall see if he still has the chops to get this done.

Tip of the hat to whoever sent me:

I haven't asked anyone yet, but these showed up via Amazon the other day. I haven't tasted any yet, either. The five in the bottom-right have English labels supplementing the Japanese. So I know the flavor of five of them. I made a search just now to determine the other flavors, and I haven't found a one-to-one key yet. Oh, I just found the English on the two one-bar packages near the top. What makes Ruby Chocolate? I know the purple one in the middle is the Halloween special this year. I recall seeing it when I was obsessing earlier this month.

On the backs of many of these two-bars is a space to write a note to the reciepent. The pink on the right even kicks it off with "Good Job!" in English. Why English?

Anyway, I suppose I should question the family, but if the sender is out there, I owe you one. Well done. This might help soften the blow for being removed from contention in the law school fantasy football league. Also, after a couple of failed attempts, I now have a copper spacer to enable the use of my new toy on the SR22. Still need that sub-sonic .22LR. If that comes via Amazon in the next couple weeks,  I am going to go ahead and treat this blog like a Death Note, but for positive wishes. Too bad it is such a hassle shipping Scotch to this state.

Barry sent me a picture of a winery product from Texas by name of Dirk's Vodka. There is also Dirk's Gin. I called them direct. The nice, older, Southern woman was wonderful to talk with. However, no dice on anything but bootlegging via US highway.

Well, it wasn't my mother. Just talked to her. She didn't buy my expensive Japanese Kit-Kat. I will split the strawberry cheesecake bar with her.

A buddy gave me a bag of venison on Saturday. It is all now jerky. Me gusta! I owe him some back. I hope we can work out a delivery day/time before the supply dwindles.

I almost lost my mind and ordered an $80 sampler of Japanese Kit Kat bars in their myriad flavor offerings. They don't make "American" size bars, either. Just one plank or two joined half-plank are the regular sizes over there, so the prices are even more unforgiving than if you thought full-sized bars would be shipped. I really want to try the three sake flavors (made with real alcohol), the champagne strawberry, the green tea, the yogurt, the wasabi, the cheesecake, etc. I could get a forty-dollar with ten types, but the flavors are randomized. Sometimes you have to hit that little X up in the right corner and walk away.

I was unintentionally given a preview of a Christmas present today. The .22 pistol is going quiet on the 26th. I need to pick up that spacer for sure now. Anybody have a line of some subsonic .22 lr?

I want them all.

Created during deposition by unnamed counselor:

I do not know why this editor flipped it 90 degrees, but I can't do anything about it. I like to think this might be the orientation the artist would most like to encounter the subject of the composition.

I shot the AR for the first time the other day. Too many double feeds. There will need to be some adjustments made. I put a couple dozen more rounds through the can and I am still tickled at how well it works. Shooting those pumpkins was much more satisfying than paper targets.

I am going to jam on some Angle's Envy. There is a song oft performed by country music singers and Jimmy Buffett with the refrain: "It's 5 O'clock Somewhere" That somewhere is here.

If anyone is reading this other than Cyrus, I will let you know that I still have hope in the law school league because Cyrus let me beat his crew this week. The high school league has left me in the dust thanks to a man named Thielen in Minnesota. The last thing he did before getting quarantined for Covid was to hang 30 fantasy points on me, turning my certain win into a standings pummeling.

I received my $200 tax stamp as required by the National Firearms Act of 1934 ("NFA"), allowing me to take possession of the Rugged brand suppressor ("can") I bought back in the late spring. The can had been in NFA jail at a local gun store since arriving there in June. The check that accompanied my paperwork was cashed by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives ("ATF") on June 15th. Based on the average wait times then, I calculated that I would not get to put any rounds through it until sometime mid-January. I do not know what is behind it, but it appears the ATF has found another gear for processing stamp apps. I took possession of my can last Saturday. Next step was to try it out.

Today, I found my opportunity. Tommy P is a blueberry farmer now. The farm has a nice dune that works as a shooting backstop. We grabbed some pumpkins off the Halloween leftovers pile for targets. My initial test used plain 230 grain .45 ACP FMJ round-nose. Those pumpkins were made into grim reminders of what would happen if a self-defense need is met with that firearm. I could have put some hollow points through, but I did not think the pumpkin had enough substance to get those tips to open before exiting the back side. The round-nose were devastating enough.

I was super happy on the performance of the can. After one shot, I took my ear protection off. I could run that gun comfortably outdoors without any discomfort. Tommy P thought the echo from a treeline ~100 yrds to our right seemed louder than the original report from my handgun. I was also really happy that the can did not change the trajectory of my unsuppressed barrel, as can happen in some situations. The shots we took were dead nuts on. Also, with that extra front end weight, it felt like my recovery time between shots was cut down because the gun wasn't jumping around as much as it normally wants to when naked. Here is what my little friend looks like with his new attachment:

I am excited to see how it works with my .22 pistol. I already have the correct adapter, but I need the threaded barrel. That is why we have Christmas lists. The can worked so well today, I now contemplating turning my unfinished AR lower into .300 Blackout instead of a 5.56 Nato or .223 Wylde rig. Rugged claims I can use this model with .45 ACP, 9mm Luger, .22 lr, and .300 Blackout. I assume calibers like .380 Auto or .32 ACP aren't listed because they might not generate enough energy to cycle the firearm with a piston set up. The .22 lr will work because that pistol is a fixed barrel that doesn't cycle with the action. In fact, I need a spacer to put where the spring normally goes on the piston when I put it on the .22 lr. I can get that at the hardware store (copper pipe fitting).

I took a six-week "season" break from Monday night poker a few weeks ago. I had a general foreboding regarding the upsurge of Covid. Also, with the holidays, I know the season would be chopped up, and I would be missing some weeks anyway. Three days after I skipped the first Monday of the season, the poker host suspended the season because he caught a proper case of Covid. He is recovered now, but poker remains on hold. Thanks, gut instinct!

Hey, there was an election recently. Does anyone out there know how it turned out?

I am playing two fantasy football leagues this year for as long as the NFL conducts business. I am probably screwed in the law school league. I like my chances in the no-stakes league. Kirk on both teams, so let's cheer for his accession to the NFL elite.

No poker on the holiday, but last week I had a roller coaster experience. The Hold 'Em tournament saw me go out first. The deal hadn't made it around the table one time, and I was dealt K-K. I four bet to clear the table of chasers. Only two others were left to see the flop: J-8-4 rainbow. I bet again, and one folded. The other guy tripled my bet. Instead of thinking, I snapped an "all-in". He called with J-J in hand. 4th & 5th Street did not deliver a savior K.

The Omaha tourney went better for me. With me and three others left, 3rd stack went all-in. The low stack went all-in behind him. I had 10-J-Q-Q two suited. I figured it wasn't going to get any better for me, so I went all-in with the thought the guy trailing me would drop. Instead, he decided to wade in as well.

The flop: 4-K-A of spades, which matched up nicely with my 10-Q of spades. The board didn't pair, I killed three with one blow, and walked with that delicious tourney first place money.

Roast beef and macaroni and cheese tonight. It sure beats dumpster-diving for my dinner. For non-special occasions like tonight, we just use the Velveeta block with the macaroni. Elaborate mixes of Swiss, Reggiano, and others are used for the fancy baked version. The longer I live, the less I like cheddar. I need more of those Alpine creamy cheese options.