“The Wife in the Arena”

Sometimes I dig around my writing files and find strange stuff that makes me realize how weird I am.

Example: Teddy Roosevelt’s ‘Man in the Arena’ speech from 1910.. turned into ‘Wife in the Arena’… I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume I typed this for my awesome wife on our Anniversary and then did something more normal instead like a ‘My wife rocks’ post on Facebook with a cutesy wedding picture.

Enjoy.

***

“It is not the critic who counts; not the single friend who points out how the married woman stumbles, or where the single woman could have done better.

The credit belongs to the woman who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by sweat and blood and smears of yellow baby poop; who strives valiantly; who errs, who burns dinner and shrinks her husband’s shirts again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to please the husband and care for her family; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends themselves in the worthy cause of femininity; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if she fails, at least fails while loving greatly, so that her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who live alone with numerous cats, drinking wine from boxes, and sobbing silently into their pints of ice cream while watching romantic comedies.”

***

Anyways. My wife is pretty awesome… and I’m grateful I was picked over all the other better looking dudes out there.

(There’s something to be said for the big, ugly guy with charisma and a self deprecating sense of humor.)

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Glock 18 – The most deadly gun on Planet EARFFFF!

This article is a national treasure…. nay… an earthly treasure…

Why the Glock 18 Might Be the Most Deadly Gun on Planet Earth

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“In December 2003, soldiers of the U.S. Special Operations Command captured the Ace of Spades himself, Saddam Hussein. The former Iraqi president, on the run since the capture of Baghdad, had appeared in a deck of playing cards with the profiles of other fugitive war criminals and naturally was the top card. Hussein, bedraggled and bereft, was armed with one of the rarest of handguns: the Glock 18, the full auto Glock.”

Not even remotely true. But this is a good place to put a picture of the prettiest and rarest pair of pistols on the planet. The Big Bang Pistol Set. Made out of a freaking meteor! (Anyone wanna loan me $4.5 million?)

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***

“Turning the selector switch counterclockwise down, on the other hand, turns the Glock 18 into a fully automatic weapon with a rate of fire nearing Germany’s fearsome MG42 machine gun. In fully automatic mode the Glock 18 has a rate of fire of 1,200 rounds per minute.”

MG42:

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Glock 18 (actual picture from the article):

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Yup – Good comparison. -eyeroll-

***

“Early Glock 18s had ported barrels that vented gunpowder gases in a direction to counteract barrel climb. However, this increased overall pistol length and created a situation where the gas ports could catch on clothing while being drawn—not a great feature for undercover work.”

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If your more concerned about your recessed barrel’s gas ports catching on clothing, but not your front sight – you’re doing something weird. And you should try using a holster or not shoving it into a coat pocket.

***

“The fully automatic pistol is available for police and government purchase in the United States but without the benefit of frequent, expensive training it’s difficult for even the largest police departments to justify the cost. This specialized weapon may be fun to shoot, but it has little practical value outside of units such as EKO Cobra. For the foreseeable future, the Glock 18 will remain a rarity that roars at 1,200 rounds a minute.”

Well… then there’s this:

***

“Kyle Mizokami is a defense and national-security writer based in San Francisco who has appeared in the Diplomat, Foreign Policy, War is Boring and the Daily Beast. In 2009, he cofounded the defense and security blog Japan Security Watch.”

Annnnnddddd….. That explains why this article is so full of wrong.

If you get the opportunity, you should always kill your siblings off. (And how to go from Beast to Kitten in 5 seconds.)

My little brother moved from NC to Minnesota about a year ago. Since it snows year round, I don’t know if he has realized it’s been a year. He’s still waiting on spring…

But within that time span, I think he’s been in at least two fist fights and last week was pulled over three times during a single ten mile drive home.

Because, apparently, in Minnesota it’s illegal to drive while Diabetic unless your doctor has sent in a note to the DMV that you are healthy enough to operate a motor vehicle… which is strange. The doctor didn’t send it the note in, thus he got pulled over, given a ticket, then pulled over twice more for the same thing before making it home. (That’s what he gets for driving home at 2 am in a snow storm when no one but law enforcement is on the road)

After that he took to the buses while waiting on the DMV records being worked out, and some goon tried to snatch and run with his backpack near a bus stop. Except it was strapped across his chest instead of over a shoulder.

Which started fight number two.

I mentioned to our dad that he was on his way to becoming the most wanted Southerner in the Mid-West. And he replied that the wanted posters would say ‘Blue Ridge Kid’.

So, my little brother is going into the sequel with that moniker.

(I’m going to find a humiliating way to red shirt him.)

As for the ‘Beast to Kitten’ part…

I’ve discovered the rowing machine at the gym last week. Once I figured out how to get my uncoordinated 6’3″ frame strapped in and how to operate it without looking like a goon – I started using it to end every workout. (5 minutes = 60 calories. Good stuff.)

And I’ve enjoyed it… I hit 500 meters at 1:59 on the highest setting and pretty much thought I was going to die before I could get my feet unstrapped.

Anyways – On Monday I was four minutes into my rowing, and a lady sat on the machine beside me and started rowing at a slightly faster pace. And rowing isn’t real quiet, especially when you’re three feet apart. You hear the wheel turning inside as the row-handle-thingy is pulled.

The sound created the feeling similar to walking across a parking lot and someone driving by blaring music. You have to force your body to not start diddy-bopping along in rhythm.

That’s how I felt with rowing next to her. And I figured if I started to speed up, she’d think I was being a show off or something by rowing harder than her. (Because I have a penis, and you know how people without penises view people with them….)

Anyways – After a miserable minute, I jokingly told her I was having a hard time not syncing with her speed because she was going faster than me.

Her response?

“Oh, I’m not going fast. I just thought you were injured.”

So… that hurt.

Happy Birthday to ‘the beast’.

Our English Mastiff is pretty epic.

We rented for 5 years before we bought our house and decided to get the dog we finally wanted. At first we wanted a Dogue De Bordeaux.. or French Mastiff as we unpretentious American’s call them. Like Hooch. (Which took me until last year to realize why he was named Hooch… Sigh.)

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But their life spans are around 7 years, and we didn’t want to do that to ourselves or our kiddos. Instead, we went with an English Mastiff that live a few more years.

Even from birth, he was pretty big. When we brought him home, at 12 weeks old, he was 17 pounds already. And obviously, super cute.

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Then he grew up. Real fast.

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He’s also a giant baby.

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He tolerates our rambunctious two year old with gentleness… and she’s pretty much a future UFC fighter already. (Fight Club has nothing on changing her diaper.)

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If dog’s could take Selfies – This would be what they look like. With hash tags like #FavoritePet #Tailpuller #Stinkybottom #HumansofInstagram #NeuteredandLovingIt

Happy Fourth Birthday Bear. Thanks for being you.

 

I’m going to write a book I said, it’ll be fun I said…

And I was right!

I just printed it for the first time. Really weird to hold something you created in your hand, kind of like a baby… but not gooey. Awesome feeling. The awesomeness to weight ratio is about 122.5%.

Which is perfect.

This is the working title, but it has really grown on me… because it’s just kind of nifty. 🙂

The ‘Badass American Novel’ part needs to stay though. Cause – ‘America.

Anyways… SO close to being done. I can already taste the ink on the paper.

Novel

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