ZoidMeister

. . . . and quite the FLAME THROWERS too . . . . . .

The Old Man and the Marine . . . . One sunny day in 2017, an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Avenue, where he'd been sitting on a park bench. He spoke to the Marine standing guard and said, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.” The Marine replied, “Sir, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn't reside here.” The old man said, “Okay,” and walked away. The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton”. The Marine again told the man, “Sir, as I said yesterday, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn't reside here.” The man thanked him and again walked away. The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same Marine, saying “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.” The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, “Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mrs. Clinton. I've told you already several times that Mrs. Clinton is not the President and doesn't reside here. Don't you understand?” The old man answered, “Oh, I understand you fine. I just love hearing your answer!” The Marine snapped to attention, saluted and said, “Yes, Sir, see you again tomorrow."

I love the M1 Carbine in .30 Cal so much that I started looking for a handgun in the caliber to match. My search led me to both of these. An AMT/IAI Automag III and a Ruger New Model Blackhawk - both in the awesome .30 Caliber Carbine.

I was planning on adding these before I read ARO's post above, but my two Dan Wesson 1911's are both Guardians . . . . . Now I feel like an insensitive arse . . . . . kinda . . . . . The Twins - Dan Wesson Guardian Bobtails - .38 Super & .45 ACP

Arrrgh . . . . I hate that for you. I would like the post, but nobody could like getting something that nice unknowingly "borrowed" . . . . .

Two married buddies are out drinking one night when one turns to the other and says, "You know, I don't know what else to do. Whenever I go home after we've been out drinking, I turn the headlights off before I get to the driveway. I shut off the engine and coast into the garage. I take my shoes off before I go into the house, I sneak up the stairs, I get undressed in the bathroom. I ease into bed and my wife STILL wakes up and yells at me for staying out so late!" His buddy looks at him and says, "Well, you're obviously taking the wrong approach. I screech into the driveway, slam the door, storm up the steps, throw my shoes into the closet, jump into bed, slap her on the butt and say, 'You as horny as I am?' . . . And, she always acts like she's sound asleep!"

The Little White Dot . . . . A kindergarten class had a homework assignment to find out something "exciting" and relate it to the class the next day. When the time came to present what they'd found, the first little boy the teacher called on walked up to the front of the class and with a piece of chalk, made a small white dot on the blackboard and then sat back down. Puzzled, the teacher asked him what it was. "It's a period," he replied. "I can see that," said the teacher, "but what is so 'exciting' about a period?" "Darned if I know," he said, "but this morning my sister was missing one. Mommy fainted, Daddy had a heart attack, and the boy next door joined the Navy."

Rose . . . . An elderly couple had dinner at another couple's house, and after eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen. The two gentlemen were talking, and one said, 'Last night we went out to a new restaurant and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly.' The other man said, 'What is the name of the restaurant?' The first man thought and thought and finally said, 'What's the name of that flower you give to someone you love? You know, the one that's red and has thorns.' 'Do you mean a rose?' 'Yes, that's the one,' replied the man. He then turned towards the kitchen and yelled, 'Hey Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?'

Vaseline . . . . A man doing market research for the Vaseline Company knocked at the door and was greeted by a young woman with three small children running around at her feet. "I'm doing some research for Vaseline. Have you ever used the product?" She said, "Yes. My husband and I use it all the time." "If you don't mind my asking," he said, "what do you use it for?" "We use it for sex," she said. The researcher was a little taken aback. "Usually people lie to me and say they use it on a child's bicycle chain or to help with a gate hinge. But, in fact, I know that most people do use it for s*x. I admire you for your honesty. Since you've been so frank so far, can you tell me exactly HOW you use it for s*x?" The woman said, "I don't mind telling you at all. My husband and I put it on the bedroom doorknob and it keeps the kids out."

Awesome story . . . . with a happy ending!

JAB, The cause of most of the feed problems I have seen with 1911's tend to fall under one of two problem areas. The magazine The EXTRACTOR and it's tension. Many guns are just plain fickle when it comes to which magazines they will run with. The geometry of the feed lips seems to be one of the biggest areas of concern. Even identical models of the same gun - the first gun may work with one magazine, but the second gun of the same type will choke on it. Some mag manufacturers tend to be more reliable than others. Kimber mags are most know for problems, even in Kimbers. The second area is where I get to "cherry pick" good deals all the time. A gun may have the reputation of just never running correctly. The owner will take it to a local gun guy who isn't well versed in 1911's, and may pronounce the gun a "lemon." I will buy it cheap, tune or replace the extractor, get it to run like hot steel on ice, and never look back . . . . . Feed ramp polishing doesn't hurt, but incorrect magazine geometry is the most likely cause of the problem you describe above. Z

Out for the Evening . . . . A couple were going out for the evening. They'd gotten ready, all dolled up, dog put out, etc. The taxi arrives, and as the couple start out, the dog shoots back in the house. They don't want the dog shut in the house, so the wife goes out to the taxi while the husband goes upstairs to chase the dog out. The wife, not wanting it known that the house will be empty explains to the taxi driver:"He's just going upstairs to say good-bye to my mother."A few minutes later, the husband gets into the cab. "Sorry I took so long" he says. "Stupid bi*** was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her with a coat hanger to get her to come out! Then I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching and biting me as I hauled her a$$ downstairs and tossed her in the back yard! She better not shi* in the vegetable garden again either!"

Zoid's Grandpa . . . . My 90-year-old grandfather went to his doctor, "I've never felt better. I have an 18-year old bride who is pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?" His doctor considered his question for a minute and then said, "I have an elderly friend who is a hunter and never misses a season. One day when he was going out in a bit of a hurry, he accidentally picked up his umbrella instead of his gun. When he got to the Creek, he saw a rabbit sitting beside the stream. He raised his umbrella and went, 'bang, bang' and the rabbit fell dead. What do you think of that?" Grandpa Zoid replied, "I'd say somebody else killed that rabbit." His doctor stated, "My point exactly."

Trader's/Sellers remorse . . . . Is this a real thing, or am I the only one that suffers . . . . ? I'll start at the beginning. This will be a long one, so sit back . . . . I've had quite a few guns that I bought and got rid of over the years. Some because they were the "latest thing," some because I was intrigued by stories from others. I have never had remorse from parting with any of them . . . except for the first 1911 I sold. it was a standard Springfield Stainless GI 1911-A1. I loved that pistol, but when came the time to reallocate, it was amongst the Glocks and M&P's that were slated to find a new home. Then came the remorse . . . . I soon found a Springfield Loaded Stainless in 9mm. I had plenty of other 1911's in .45 ACP and none in 9mm at the time. This one had a nicer hammer, ambi safety, target trigger, and nicer Novak sights, so I picked it up. My remorse over the loss of the 1911-A1 subsided a little, but never fully went away. I still keep photos of it . . . . Then came the time I traded a Dan Wesson CBOB I picked up for that nice 1917 Colt Commercial y'all have seen me post about. I had a tiny bit of remorse at the time, but I really liked that Colt, and the only reason I bought the CBOB was to temp the owner of the Colt to trade, so I was fine . . . for a while. I ended up buying a Dan Wesson CBOB in 10mm, because of the remorse I had losing the .45 CBOB. Now here I sit, the owner of two nice DW CBOB's, the 1917 Colt, but filled with remorse over the loss of the Springer Loaded 9mm, and even the GI. So guys, what is your worst (best) 1911 trade/sale remorse story . . . . I'll buy the first round . . . . .

I just had carpal tunnel surgery on my right hand in December. It will be a while before I attempt to shoot that one . . .

Like slamming your palm in the door of your F-150. .38 Specials make it a little tamer . . . . .

The COP - 4 Barrel .357 Magnum Derringer

This thread is dedicated to photos of your Dan Wesson 1911's gents (and ladies). Post them up. I'll start with . . . . . The Twins - Dan Wesson Classic Bobtails - CBOB's - 10mm & .45 ACP (yea, I'm a lousy photographer)

A Texas cowboy walked into a drug store and asked to talk to a male pharmacist. The elderly woman he was talking to said that she was the pharmacist and as she and her also widowed elderly sister owned the store, there were no males employed there. She then asked if she could help the gentleman. The cowpoke said that it was something that he would be much more comfortable discussing with a male pharmacist. The female pharmacist assured him that she was completely professional and whatever it was that he needed to discuss, he could be confident that she would treat him with the highest level of professionalism. The old bronco-buster agreed and began by saying, "This is tough for me to discuss, but I have a permanent erection. It causes me a lot of problems and severe embarrassment, and I was wondering what you could give me for it." The pharmacist said, "Just a minute, I'll go talk to my sister. When she returned, she said, “We discussed it at length and the absolute best we can do is, 1/3 ownership in the store, a company car, and $3,000 a month plus living expenses.

My New Young Bull . . . . I recently spent $2500 on a young Black Angus bull. I put him out with the herd but he just ate grass and wouldn't even look at a cow. I was beginning to suspect he was gay, if that's possible with a bull. Anyhow, I had the Vet come have a look at him. He said the bull was very healthy, but possibly a little young, so he gave me some pills to feed him once per day. ... Holy Cow (YEP)! The bull started to service the cows within two days. All of my cows! He even broke through the fence and bred all my neighbor's cows! He's been breeding just about everything in sight. He's like a machine!" I don't know what the heck was in the pills the Vet gave him, but they kinda taste like peppermint.

It keeps getting better each and every time I remember it . . . Was testing the waters to see if the response for these oldies was favorable. Joe was a successful lawyer. . . . . nevermind . . . .

Sheesh, tough crowd. No humor fans here? Well, maybe one . . . .

Joe was a successful lawyer, but as he got older he was increasingly hampered by incredible headaches. When his career and love life started to suffer, he sought medical help. After being referred from one specialist to another, he finally came across an old country doctor who solved the problem. "The good news is I can cure your headaches... The bad news is that it will require castration. You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press up against the base of your spine, and the pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles." Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He couldn't concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to go under the knife. When he left the hospital he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life. He saw a men's clothing store and thought, "That's what I need -- a new suit." He entered the shop and told the salesman, "I'd like new suit." The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said, "Let's see ... size 44 long." Joe laughed, "That's right, how did you know?" "Been in the business 60 years!" Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about a new shirt?" Joe thought for a moment and then said, "Sure." The salesman eyed Joe and said, "Let's see... 34 sleeve, and a 16 and a half neck." Joe was surprised, "That's right, how did you know?" "Been in the business 60 years!" Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. As Joe adjusted the collar in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about new shoes?" Joe was on a roll and said, "Sure." The salesman eyed Joe's feet and said, "Let's see... 9 and a half." Joe was astonished, "That's right, how did you know?" "Been in the business 60 years!" Joe tried on the shoes and they fit perfectly. Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, "How about some new underwear?" Joe thought for a second and said, "Sure." The salesman stepped back, eyed Joe's waist and said, "Let's see... size 36." Joe laughed, "Ahh ha! I've got you! I've worn size 34 since I was 18 years old." The salesman shook his head, "You can't possibly wear a size 34. Size 34 underwear would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache."

A pair I made for a buddy of mine . . . .

I'm not THAT skilled . . . . I started with a few sets of grips I already had. Finding and embedding the coins in a non-destructive manner is my contribution . . .