In one day E.B. Misfit wonders what it would take to make an anti-vampire round. and Marko wants to know what kind of gun would be best for hunting werewolves.

Apparently zombies aren’t the cool thing anymore.

I awoke this morning around 6:00am to diesel engines firing up. It was the local county road commission rearing up to fix the freaking massive ditch they just tore in the middle of the road next to my driveway. This construction project is 100% needed, and I support it fully. If fixing it up right-quick means waking me up at 6:00am then go for it.

Funny thing: At 8:00am when I headed into the office with a glass of OJ in my hand they were gone. Never returned.

Apparently they worked this job-site from 6:00am to maybe 7:30am today.

I’m unable to come up with a logical explanation for this.

As I mentioned in my last post I’m working from home again, and wouldn’t you know it, I got a friendly reminder of just why I like being here all day long.

Around 2:30pm the dogs went ape-shit crazy upstairs, so I went to see what the fuss was about. There’s a car in my driveway pulled right up to the garage. No decals on the car, so it’s not a meter reader. Nobody’s in the driver’s seat, but I can’t find anybody in the yard. Though I will admit that I have less than 100% visibility out the front of my house. The wife zombie-walks out of the bedroom (she was just laying down to take a nap, she’s home because she’s working 4 10 hour days the rest of the week) and I gather that somebody rang the door bell. I look out front again and they’re getting in their car and heading off.

I have no idea what the nature of their business was, but the wife did remember that we’d left the garage door open upon returning from lunch. Being a paranoid whack-job my first thought is they were just checking to see if somebody was home before they looted the garage. When the dogs went bonkers they left. Or maybe they saw me walk up the stairs with my hand under my shirt around the 4 o’clock position. Take your pick.

Or maybe they were just a friendly neighbor wondering if we knew our garage door was open, but we didn’t recognize the car, and there’s no reason to drive by our house because we currently live at the end of a dead end road thanks to a construction project.

Perhaps they were going door-to-door selling something, but that doesn’t seem likely either. The dogs to bat-shit whenever somebody pulls into the driveway across the street too. That car didn’t drive across the street when she was done with my place, I watched, and she sure didn’t start across the road because I’d have known about it before she got to my driveway.

Weird.

Note: Cannot hear the doorbell from my new office room in the basement. Might need to work on that.

Heh:

Holy crap on a cracker, Batman. I literally had to put my left thumb in the trigger guard to try to keep it from leaping out of my hands. I’m not sure a follow up shot is going to be feasible unless I aim for your toes first, then maybe, the second shot will part your hair.

Robb knew what he was getting into when he bought it, and I bet he’ll be happy with the purchase after he’s had some more time with the pistol provided that it proves to be reliable.

Folks not familiar with guns would look at the itty-bitty P3AT and think it’s breeze to shoot, but it’s not. Robb’s a Marine, solid, thick, and stands about 6’4″. It’s not the kind of pistol you want your grandma to buy and stick in her purse at all. Well, not unless grandma likes to spend a lot of time on the range.

Puma makes one that’s only 24″ in total length. It has a stock, but it’s not a rifle, it’s a pistol. Not sure how they managed to get that classified as a pistol, but kudos for them for doing so. Available in .45 Colt, .44-40, and .44 Magnum.

Might make handy home defense carbine I suppose.

Discovered through Bill St. Clair’s blog.