Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Light Bulb Lessons, A Gun Review, and Nomenclature Rules

This is an unsolicited review of the Smith & Wesson  M & P Shield 9mm. It's brutal. I'm blunt in response to everything and everyone. My first duty weapon was a S &W 3953. Nice, nice. I miss that gun. I want it back and might offer the dude some day. However, upon departure with it, I have grown to really love Glocks which I know is passe and so ordinary.

It's cute, right? This is not the gun I fired, btw. Photo credit: GunsAmerica
Many light bulb lessons occurred during a recent trip to an indoor gun range. Yes, it was in one of those armored pods. Very cool. Except the AC didn't work fast enough. But I'm not here reviewing the pod.

Rule of thumb for range day. You need ammo. Don't forget to bring it. Some people might call these "bullets." In case you are wondering, if you forget your ammo you got at a good price, gun shops will sell you some but they jack it up when they realize you forgot it because they know you are desperate. It's called supply and demand emergency. Not really. That was an attempt at economics humor. 

This isn't just any ordinary review. This is a review based upon my preferences and likes and dislikes. I will explain in detail, but you might disagree with me. You might hate on this, but that's OK.

I think for the first time in my life, I looked at reviewing firearms in a totally different light. That is not what I mean by light bulb lessons. Watch. And. See.

As a side conversation, I don't know why gun manufacturers put paperwork and manuals in there for us to read. I like videos. Reading makes me fall asleep. I know. It's about liability and some brain surgeons would rather read a manual. I get that. I will use mine for taking up closet space.

First of all, I'm going to get past semantics. I am over the nomenclature rules. Fuck that shit. Use your own words. I don't care. Now to be clear,  many people ban or frown upon using the words "handgun"or "gun". Military gurus think different devices running through their heads like lollipops when you use the word "gun". It probably means a lot of different things to each person. That's not the point. The word firearm probably does the same thing. Or maybe the word "gun" is too lazy for you and only applies to those who don't know how to use them. Perhaps you prefer the word "sidearm" for pistol. So anyway. Fuck the gun guru rules. We're here to talk about bang bang devices. All of them. All the words. Who gives a shit about the nomenclature. That was a statement, not a question.

So what do you like about firearms? You might like different things than me, so don't take this as the gospel. It's all preference.  I do what I like. If you don't like, don't like. It's a free country.

The ammunition of choice on this day of ammo blasting was Speer Lawman 124 grain. Yes, it was an expensive day. Ammo gone. Like a lot of it. Similar to a fart in the wind. Only gunpowder smells a lot better.
This is the type of ammo, but not exact boxes.
Why? Because we used it all up,  duh!

Anyrambling, back to the S & W Shield. Just to preface this post, I have zero pics of my day with Smith and Wesson. I went with the boss. He bought it with me at the gun shop about a month prior and didn't want to shoot it until I helped him understand safety and stuff. It was time to break wind...I mean blast.

It looks cool, it's light, it's small for carrying purposes. It's easy to conceal. I really like that part.

So first order of business is handling and familiarizing yourself with your weapon. Do it. Got it? Good. This of course is without ammo. EMPTY. Figure it out. And if you can't figure it out, Google or YouTube it.

I've had to do that a few times when shit goes wrong or when I am stuck in processes.

The day started off with the gun shop dude eyeballing my Glock 19c. Get yer mitts off my goods, sir.

"What kind of magazines are those? I've never really seen ones like that."

I looked at him like he was an alien: the green type.

"Uh. Regular kind. They go in there and it goes pew pew just like any other Glock."

"No, I mean they are 13."

"No, they are 15."

"Oh. How did you get those?"

"What do you mean, how did I get those? At a gun shop."

"You can't get those."

By now I'm thinking he is going to call the cops and report me. I'm really leary of strange new persons.

"I used to be a cop."

"Oh. That explains it."

Weird. At that point, I was about to hide my weaponry, but they insisted on inspecting it before firing. Next time, I will bring a throw down Hi-Point so they don't judge me or try to take my magazines away. I could hide my Glock in my bag. They don't stick around to watch you shoot. They just inspect and leave.

Once he left, we started to die of heat sweats because the AC was slow to cool the metal box. But we didn't care because there were red lights and shit and it was cool in there.

Now I've read a lot about the Shield and have had questions answered by a few friends. Everyone seems to rave about it. So, naturally, this made me excited about it. It is not ambidextrous. Just saying. Right handed only.

So the Shield is full of surprises for me. Mostly, how do I operate this fucking thing? I mean to tell you, there are too many safety precautions and widgets on this thing that by the time I figured it out I would already be dead. Looking down from heaven, I would watch the cops fidget with the firearm and then an aha moment would occur. Yes, I was really frustrated at first. I had to YouTube that shit.

The first 20 minutes were very embarrassing moments for me because that normally doesn't happen when I get a new gun in front of me. I looked pretty stupid when I wanted to use the damn thing and it was only as good as a club.

Dropping the magazine is easy. Ok? Anyone can do that.

It's a small gun, so it's nice for small hands. Guys, I don't want to know. Just don't talk about the size of your hands. Ladies, you can feel free to discuss that because it doesn't apply to us.

Pulling and releasing the slide is a little tricky dicky and this one was stiff like a dead man. Poppin' it like a top isn't always going to happen. The slide locked and got stuck and the releasy thingy didn't work as planned. There is a little trick and some finesse.

And of course Smith and Wesson are kinder to you when you are empty rather than full of magic bullets.

This video is showing you the insertion problem I had. I'm used to giving that magazine a good shove and maybe an extra. Tactical training, you know.

Let me just say, don't forget a new firearm is stiff as hell and needs some attention before you use it, like fucking oil. The Shield magazines can be over inserted. Oopsie daisie. Fuck yourself in the ass. Don't do that.

Another issue I found was that it has too many safety precautions and widgets on it for me. Fuck you, you gun control freaks! The Shield answered the liberal cries for help. I hope you don't die because you are too slow and you have to switch all the safety doohickies before your fire. I don't like the safety. It's too hard for me to use in speedy time. I would leave it off. *gasp* I know, right? No safety. Well, the Glocks don't have one either, scaredy cats.

Here's a viewpoint from an OK hick.

Speed reloading that thing in a hurry would be a bitch if the slide didn't drop and just stayed stuck there. Just saying. That happened a lot. Why? Because this was the first time the boss handled a weapon and it was eye opening to watch someone who had no knowledge struggle with things we gun gurus take for granted as a muscle memory. And when I tried it? I was worried about over inserting it again and wussy loaded it.

So yeah. Be familiar with your weapon. We created stovepipes and bad jams and scenarios just to practice with it. We both became familiar with the weapon and once we did that, it was a nice firearm. In the beginning, I hated the bastard. So did the boss.

After we were all done, I gave my Glock to the boss and told him to handle it and shoot it. He said, "Wow, that was a lot easier and nicer."

Ok. It's really not fair to compare a new stiff gun to a nicely worn and loved one.

The boss is an excellent shot. He's a very left leftist and I was really proud of his willingness to learn and practice. He said he was going to properly store it and practice many times. We have future range times. I gave him some tips to go home and take the gun apart several times and dry fire a lot.

So am I sold on this? Yeah. I would recommend it as a good carry option. It's a great priced device and a really nice firearm. It's made very well. It's easy to conceal. I can push the safety off if I don't want it on. Will I be purchasing my own? Not sure yet.

I'm a little partial to Glocks and really would rather have a 42 or a 43 as a backup.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Wake Up, Fools!

Here is a list of some pet peeves. Why? Because. I felt like sharing. You're welcome!

1. I really hate the fact that Soros is funding all these DA positions all over the United States in a way for him to "reshape the justice system" according to his liking. I mean, not only do I hate it, but it scares me to death. That man is really, really dangerous. People don't think so, but money can really buy you things. Some things are dangerous. What does that mean? Something nefarious, no doubt.  Cops will fry. I'm sure it includes burning all officers at the stake. You should pay attention to this. Wake up, fools! Not you. The other guys. You should sleep with one eye open. Why? Watch his reformative justice take over sentencing parameters and people will nary go to jail. Why? Because if we hold their hands, they won't be so bad. Now, I think restorative justice is necessary, but you need to do it wisely and those who do really bad should do their just time and not be slapped on the wrist.

2. I can't stand the liberal agenda on wolves. They spread lies. And many of them are in nice articles of peace in the high country and pat ourselves on the back type of shit. People believe them because they don't know what is really going on there, so they are spoon fed propaganda which they absorb as the truth. It's bullshit. Happy park. Happy animals. My ass. If you really want to know what is going on in the west, you should live there or shut thy mouth. The wolves are out of control. Herds of wild life and livestock are devastated every year. Wake up, fools! Yeah. I said it. I am mean like that. Not you. The other people.

3. Assholes. I know too many. I wish there was a shampoo to wash them away like flea and tick stuff. Or something.

4. The news. It sucks. Everywhere.

5. The perma frown on my forehead. It's making perma wrinkles. Gah.

6. I don't like being forced to live where I don't really want to live. I want to retreat to a high mountain area where I can shoot wolves and make a coat. Not really. That was just funny as hell, though.

7. I hate one of my classes right now. I am getting bad grades and I think my professor hates me too. It's sad really. I am a very nice and good student. Sigh.

8. I can't stand mouthy kids or disrespectful kids. I don't know how to change it. The parents are way messed up these days. That includes me. Our generation failed America. True story. We did it. Now we are griping about it. Ironic much?

That's enough today. Oh, yes. There is more. Most times I am pretty laid back but today I am pissy like a cat.

I know. I'm whining.


I will go now.

Friday, May 19, 2017

And the Ghetto cried...Hey Cop!

As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
And his mama cries

We went predator hunting one day. Sex Offender Registry. Address Checks. Banjos Playing.

We checked 43 of them. Beat me. No wait, not in those words, they just sound naughty.

Anypervert, we checked about 20 when we ran into two very well built strapping handsome 30 year olds in the middle of a rundown part of town who stopped us at our patrol car.

JIM GYM: Officers, could you help us with this Nebraska citation I got for no proof of insurance?

PUNKY BREWSTER: Nope. We don't mess with out of state things.

ME: [whack to Punky's left arm] What can we help you with, sir?

JIM GYM: I'm afraid I'm late on this fix it ticket.

ME: We better run you for warrants, then.

JIM GYM: [hesitant] Well...

ME: You aren't going to run, are ya? Cuz, you looked like you were going to run.


EXERCISE EDDY: Oh, he  thought about it.

ME: I'll give ya a 7 foot head start.

EXERCISE EDDY: Taser. [laughing]

JIM GYM: Oh hell no.

ME: Come on. We need the training.
I miss my Punky Brewster. 

So...we listened to their horror popo story of getting pulled over in Nebraska, then ran both of them because they wanted to make sure Nebraska didn't have any warrants for them. They were college grads working on their master's degrees. Seems the oil company they interned with had provided them housing and they monitored gas drilling every day for their studies. They were clean cut, went to the gym as much as they could, and appeared to be very nice, seemingly normal men.

ME: So...what are you two doing living in the hood? Seems like you don't belong here. It's like Sesame Street puzzles...one thing doesn't look like the other.

EXERCISE EDDY: Yeah. We got the shaft from our company. Put us up in the ghetto. We shut ourselves inside and lock everything up every day.

ME: Nice. Well, have a nice day. OH. I almost forgot. The Boogie Man lives next door to you, so be careful.

EXERCISE EDDY: [points to a neighbor house] Harrold?

ME: If that is what he calls himself these days. [It was a random popo scare tactic, I just made it up. I don't even know if Harrold or any of their other neighbors were the Boogie Man] Have a great day.

JIM GYM: Thanks.[weak smile]

Punky and I got into the car and I looked over the list of sex offenders.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Now there were two nice looking ones for you to date.

ME: Moving on with the perverts. [looking at my list]

PUNKY BREWSTER: [sigh] I can't wait to tell the boss I found two nice good looking men for you and you looked down at the sex offender list and said, "moving on with the perverts "

ME: Yep.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Have you noticed today all the sex offenders answer the door without shirts on.

ME: Yep. It's disgusting. Lots of moobs out today.

We made a citizen contact on the street. Punky and I thought the contact was very disturbing and it made us contemplate things later in life...like how your tattoos look when you are old. I told her I wouldn't care about my tats at that age. However, plastic surgery was another thing. The citizen contact really made me do a double take on any aspirations of plastic surgery I might have had.

PUNKY: That freaked me out.

ME: Me, too. They were like all up in my face, pointing at me.

PUNKY: Ew. What am I going to do?

ME: Well, I can tell you one thing, I am not going to be your friend when you are 70. I don't need anything all up in my face when I try to wipe the drool off your chin.

PUNKY:  That was disturbing.

ME: Yes. I might have nightmares.

So...we met a 70 year old woman who didn't wear a bra. She didn't have to. She was perky. A size double D and perky at 70. Fake boobs. It was scary. I wish I had pics to share of this old woman with perky boobs, but it was too traumatizing. Just picture it. Or don't. Oy.

It was dark with no street lights. We were later assigned to foot patrol in the trailerhood. All of a sudden, a dark Suburban with limo tinted windows jumped the curb and stopped at my feet...and my gun... drawn ready to shoot the drunk idiot that tried to run me over. As we aimed for the window that was rolling down, we  were greeted with a site.

It was someone from Montana we did not know who apparently liked to get right up in the popo's face to ask a question. Or perhaps the person had a death wish. I don't know. He might have peed himself at the sight of our Glocks. Our show of force was quickly deflated as we were just looking at an idiot that had no regard for personal space or officer safety. If he had been anywhere else, he would have been toast.

Anyfreakshow, the driver wanted to ask about the safety of our ghetto as several officers had been noticed in the area. The driver's bling was bedazzling us along with the long black shiny hair, bright red lipstick, and long fingernails....and very large bosoms. We weren't looking there, they just appeared in our faces. I then was asked a barrage of questions regarding my hair and makeup choices and asked some tips. The driver departed after blowing us kisses and thanking us for our time.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Was that a drag queen?

ME: Yep. Never seen him around here, must be a new one.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Huh. He's something else. Crazy.

ME: It's the ghetto. Isn't it great? We didn't even have to shoot anyone, just exchanged makeup tips.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Yeah. That's what scares me. We almost got killed  over makeup tips.