Arrgh! Just picked up the Marlin 795 I got my son for Christmas (after dutifully waiting my 10 day cool-off period) and the rear sight is missing! We are supposed to be going out to the range next weekend together for the RWVA Project Appleseed event. I contacted the shop I picked it up at and they contacted the manufacturer. They are sending the missing sight right away, but it won’t likely make it by next weekend. He’s going to be so disappointed to get his new rifle, but then have to wait for parts. Thankfully, a friend of mine has a rifle she can loan him and he’ll still get to participate. Just not with his new Christmas rifle. 
Gurl, Im not sure those jeans are the look youre after. Those crystal encrusted back pockets CALL ATTENTION to the fact that your ass is wide. Its like wearing a Las Vegas billboard on your backside, if you get my drift.
RWVA? Rednecks from West Virginia? Jes’ kiddin’, bubba.
But seriously, can you jerry-rig (jury-rig?) a rear sight, like make a mark on the barrel, or supe-glue something on, or bend a paperclip just so? I bet Annie Oakley could’ve shot without a rear sight.
Yesterday on my lunch break I stopped by a local shop (Goin’ Postal - awesome name!) to ship a small package. There were two customers ahead of me. The lone clerk was packing a large box with with a whole bunch of toys from another box the customer had brought them in. Packing and unpacking and trying to puzzle-fit them all in. This went on for about 10 minutes. Finally the clerk gets them all in and seals up the box. The customer wants to know how much it will cost with US Post and FedEx. The clerk weighs the box and gives her the options. THEN the customer says she doesn’t have any money with her and will go home to get it and could the clerk just hold the box until she comes back. WTF! First, why didn’t she pack her shit herself and second, who the fuck goes to mail something without bringing any money? To her credit, the clerk did not go postal on her. 
The other customer and I just looked at each other and shook our heads. And I just managed to get back to work in time.
Flight delays flight delays flight delays :(:(:(
My parents want me to delete a photo of my dead husband off my Facebook account b/c there’s a beer between his legs. “What if someone sees?!?”
No. Just … No.
(Also, other dude in the pic? Sooooo not my ex. His brother. Not the same thing. Please don’t mix 'em up.)
Yes, what if someone does see it? :dubious:
What the fuck are they expecting to happen? Why would you possibly be bothered by anyone playing Moral Mary over it? I’d laugh in their faces!
[monotone deadpan]Oh my yes, he has a beer. What a shock. Whatever will people think. :rolleyes: [/md]
A possible solution: I think Facebook lets you block certain people from seeing certain photos. So keep that photo, but change the privacy settings on the photo so that your parents can’t see it.
They’ll think he liked to drink a beer, like the majority of adults in North America?
Ooh, ooh - I know what you should do - photoshop some kind of obvious, obnoxious thing over top of the beer bottle to “appease” them! 
I vote that you change the beer to a bong.
A huge syringe would fit over that PBR longneck. Or a naked cub scout…
How about a Pedobear image? They would probably think it’s just a cuddly-wuddly teddybear.
I went to the grocery store early today. I usually do not go on Sunday; but I really wanted some of the Polar Holiday Seltzer before it sold out. This store has double doors and they display the holiday seltzer and some sale items when you walk in the first door; but before where the carts are (after the second door.) There are no carts outside. I come all the way in, grab a cart, check the shelves where the seltzer is inside the store, no holiday flavors. So I push the cart all the way back to the door to go out and come back in past the display.
The wheels lock up and an alarm goes off. WTF? There are people right behind me leaving with full carts so I just keep pushing and lift it out. A female store employee comes up behind me and starts to grab the cart out of my hands and pull it back the way I came. She must have made the full cart people back up. She does not say anything. She just has a nasty bitch expression on her face. I quickly explain why I am doing this I want to fill my cart with bottles of seltzer. No I do not want to carry the f—ing bottles in one by one you stupid bitch. And if I wanted to steal a cart I would take one from the cart return outside.
The store was filled with aimless shoppers waddling three abreast stopping to yap. I finished making selections proceed to the checkout area. Some dim bulb stops blocking the way and begins pawing his ass; presumably to verify the location of his wallet. I swerve around him. (Yes I was following too close.) Now the way is clear. I slide into the farthest check out. Dim bulb suddenly puts on the gas and comes up on my right and tries to get in front of me. He gets all huffy and mumbles about how he was there first. WTF? Mr. Bulb you were indeed first to the area of about 20 checkout lanes. But I passed you and went to the farthest one. You had your choice of all the ones I passed that were open.
My laparoscopic incision sites each have one perfect hive surrounding them.
So itchy, goddammit. Benadryl helps, but I can only take it at bedtime. Damn, I hope these go away soon. Walking around rubbing my belly like some weirdo.
I knew I had something else.
The previous/first owner of my house did all manner of “improvements” many not to code.
He added an enclosed back porch. Great, windows on three side. I hang laundry out there and it dries without the ubiquitous bird crap or bee snuggled into the corner of the fitted sheet.
However he built it on a slab that was not properly insulated so whenever there is a drastic change in temperature the tile floor is covered in condensation. Lots and lots of condensation. I am never expecting this so every time there is an opportunity to slip and fall.
Sounds dangerous. Maybe get some of that paint with sand mixed in?
Burf, I hear ya. I got some weird rash on the back of my upper thigh and was trying so hard not to walk around at work scratching my ass.
Starch your pants. They will be so scratchy that you won’t need to scratch on your own.
Company Christmas party Friday night. I wore high heels. :smack: I should have guessed that I’d be on my feet all night. Did I learn anything? No, I did not. Last night we had a much smaller and more intimate Christmas party with friends at home and I fucking wore high heels again. Gawd, I’m so fucking stupid. :smack::smack::smack:
But you looked hot!
Sand paint! Yes, duh. Where have you been for the past 20 years??