Tactical Bacon and the Trebuchet...

Well I survived another hard day  flippin' burgers at work in a kitchen the size of the interior space of a Mini Cooper. The original Mini mind you, not one of those fancy new ones with the vast interior space. A kitchen with a normal operating ambient temp of 95-100+ degrees.

So, when I finally got home and sat in front of the 'puter to finish my work related to the MC business. I figured that my feet and knees hurt way too much to walk down the stairs into the man cave so I could veg out in front of the TV, and low and behold I came across this web site (yeah I am whining today but I hurt...).

http://bingebuyr.com/

So far the "Tactical Bacon" (10 year shelf life, yeah baby pork fat rules! Read some of the reviews, I'm not the only one...)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003RC5FQ2/?tag=bb9374-20

is tied with the "Stirling Warwolf Trebuchet"

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B001ALL6LK/?tag=bb9374-20

for the number 1 item(s) I would purchase with my hard earned "sweat labor" pay ($9 an hour mind you).
That is if I really felt that I could not live without either of them (wants/needs), huh, let me think about this...They could be a really cool combo though, right???

Another thought; "Shit, if I order them both I could get free F'n shipping"!!!

Think about it.

OK so I am bored/tired after a long day slaving in a 100+ degree kitchen...

If I had in my possession both of these things earlier, I would have rather been sitting on my deck under foliage/camo cover, savoring tactical bacon, launching miniature boulders off of my nifty Trebuchet at my neighbors!
All I would have to do is have the patience to practice with numerous mini boulder projectiles, various trajectories, atmospheric conditions and of course, most importantly, consider if the spouse is home...
Additionally I would have to make sure that the neighbor is not home during any of my various critical testing sessions. They might come out to investigate the various thumps on the roof, the dog yelping, or shattered glass if my aim sucks...

How many beers is this going to take...

Eat Tactical Bacon.

Gather projectiles, smooth ones that will launch perfectly and fly without resistance to their target.

Eat Tactical Bacon.

Heck, maybe I'll get me one of them stone polishing machines, no wait that will blow my budget, no wait I can get free F'n shippin' on all three items!

Should I use some kind of lubricant on my projectiles, olive oil? Got lots of that around...

Eat Tactical Bacon.

Shit, I just figured it out, lube the projectiles with bacon fat!
Damn, sometimes I even amaze myself...
Think about it, they might fly quicker, quieter and farther, but here is the real bonus! Wait, wait, wait for the brilliance to settle in (sure hope mom is not reading this).The dog would eat them, the savory smell of bacon fat. Evidence gone...Boom Batta Bing Baby!
Why the F' not, how many of you can say this was how you wasted your afternoon?
Yeah well I know, none of you...

I would be launching miniature boulders at the ones (neighbors) that either have a barking dog, or the one (neighbor) that traps the neighborhood squirrels in his yard (that they were feeding), because the squirrels tried to get into their house through their open door, duh! All they had to do was shoo them away and quit feeding them!
The same squirrels that we loved to see on our fence and our grandchildren loved to feed peanuts to (another story). Heck we even named one of the squirrels!

Back to the simple facts, pork fat rules!
How many of you remember the muleskinner from Dances With Wolves?
Shit he was eatin' the bacon right out of the cast iron frying pan, couldn't even wait for it to cool down.
Why do you think them injuns killed him? For his bacon, duh!!! They could smell it from 10 miles away...
The smell of cookin' bacon can drop a Trebuchet boulder carrying warrior to his knees.
Yeah really, and those guys were mean ass bitches!

That is, as long as they did not drop the Trebuchet boulder, on their "Poor-toe"...

W

"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut."

Ernest Hemingway

New Addition To The Herd...

Some of you will understand what this story feels like, others of you will say; "WTF"...

Well Marg & I have completed buying more motorcycles and various parts for our training fleet (now at 44 motorcycles).
The problem is that one of them makes me stop an ponder it's future and to write this story.

Do I send this young buck to the battle front? Or do I hold it back and savor its athleticism and stamina to hold out to the very, very end; and never, never, never fail me?

I am actually thinking about draining the fluids out and mounting it on the wall in the living room; no wait my wife would finally realize I am insane and that I needed to be committed, no wait we can not afford that, she could afford a 25 cent bullet but doesn't own a gun.
These are some of the problems in life...

After teaching for over 8 years and riding hundreds of motorcycles, you start to bond with some of them. Some actually touch your heart by what they can do, or what they can put up with.
One that will ever hold a place in my heart is the Yamaha GTS1000, if you have ever been fortunate enough to have ridden one, or taken it to the track you would understand.
Another is the Honda Nighthawk CB250. This bike is the Marine grunt (yes) seriously, of the motorcycle safety training realm. They are the "war horse" of the front lines.
In my opinion the best engineered and designed tank for living a life as a trainer.

Only some of you that actually read this will understand...

Here I have a Honda Nighthawk with 852 actual miles on it. It has maybe seen one or two training classes in its short life (bet it got the crap scared out of it! They never told it about the students on the assembly line, ha). If I put it in the shed with the other older more experienced nighthawks; (some with over 10,000 training miles) what do you think they will start to tell this young buck?

"RUN,RUN,RUN now before you are hammered like we have been. We still have the stamina but no longer the heart. Some people should never ride a motorcycle, period!
They think a clutch is indestructible, they think you can rev the crap out of us and it will do no damage to our internals, they think that the brakes are to be grabbed and jammed, they think that a tip over/low side is like, oh well not my bike, show us some respect, PLEASE!" 

"You young ones have no idea how it is on the front lines. I would suggest that you spin a main and shell yourself now, look at us, some of us have been in this shit hole for over 20 years and these people keep fixing us and sending us back to the front line".
"Some say the Marines are the real men, well let them sit in our shoes for a training season, they all would run home screamin' and crying to their mamma's after two classes!" 

The black one is the virgin (852 miles! Really)

I can sit on a Nighthawk and ride it a few feet and feel its pain, or as with this one it's naivety as to where it is going. 

Kind of like what I would perceive as the glory of young men enlisting. Becoming hero's and such... 

No disrespect intended to anyone in our armed forces, I appreciate what you have and will do for our country!

Just making a comparison of a machine to the machine, of our fighting men and women. 

Anyway, looking back at the miles I have logged on one of these bikes is staggering, as it would be for any instructor who does safety training as their livelihood. 

You get very comfortable with the bikes and can feel any slight difference between them. You start to have your favorites and the ones that you just stay away from; kind of like the proud old gray mule in the corner of the corral just darin' you to come over, get me to move! I'll kick you in the... if you try!

Me, I still pull that old mule out to show it who is boss; and who still cares for the service it has done, all these long/tough years. 

Every body including the 300+ pound person that sat on or almost crushed one of these grunts, was taught something by that trusty steed and the instructor. The bike was never applauded, but sometimes a student would run their hand over the tank slowly, almost a caress, saying thanks...

Good enough for me, and good enough for our trusty steeds...

W