I was reminded of the book The Falcon and the Snowman, wherein a spy was caught (according to the official FBI story) by someone determining the suspect liked falconry (hence his clever nickname), so agents lay-in-wait for him in Coos Bay, Oregon (a big falconry place), and captured him!
Truth was (as is so often the case), is one of his friends gave him up!
Brownells Expands into Tactical Falconry
First they started selling ammunition, then they opened a retail gun store, then they started selling guns online and now the logical conclusion: tactical falconry. They are also manufacturing the first ever Falcon Night Hunter Owl Conversion Kit …
Brownells, known for its incredible selection of firearms and firearm accessories, proudly announced today it has become the internet’s largest tactical falconry dealer. Brownells’ new Birds of Prey product line features hundreds of items dedicated to enabling private citizens, law enforcement officers and military personnel to engage in the ancient art of falconry for the purposes of self-defense, hunting and homeland protection.
The new line features well-trained tactical birds ranging in size from the sub-sub-compact Black-Legged Falconet up to the full-size Steller’s Sea Eagle – an offensive raptor designed for maritime operations.
For customers in arctic conditions, the Birds of Prey line offers Gyrfalcons in traditional Snowy Tundra camo as well as a special Ghostly White Limited Edition, exclusive to Brownells.
Also available are a full line of tactical bird accessories, gear and supplies.
Some of the notable, cutting edge tactical falconry products include:
- Miniature Tactical Falcon Pants
- Falcon Action Camera Mounts
- PreyVision™ Falcon Spotting Scopes
- Falcon Handler First Aid & Suture Kits
- Tactical Falcon Treats
- Widening Gyre® Tactical Falcon Signal Whistles
- TalonHone® File & Pedicure Kit
- Falcon Night Hunter Owl Conversion Kit
“Housing the falcons has been the biggest challenge for us,” said Chad Martin, Brownells COO. “Well trained as they may be, we’ve noticed they tend to get nervous around lift trucks.”
Some of the newest tactical falconry products in the line come from the innovative company Critical OperRaptor Dynamics™. Miniature Adhesive Falcon OperRaptor Beards are available in several colors and sizes and are guaranteed to resist bloodstains and not jettison during flight.
Also from Critical OperRaptor Dynamics™ is a large assortment of Picatinny-Compatible Falcon Perch Rails to let the tactical falconry practitioner park his bird on his favorite AR-15 handguard, scope rail or ballistic helmet interface
Yes, this an April Fools joke. No falcons were harmed in this ridiculous hijinks. Actually, we’ve never even seen a real falcon.
FALC! Wouldn’t that have been cool?!
Most of you know this is a bad time of year for me.
I’ve not happily celebrated this holiday for years. I remember prepping my daughter on Friday for school, making certain she had something green on.
Then, the weekend occurred. (1995)
But, I saw a cartoon on FB recently, that made me chuckle. Guess that means I am healing (?)
HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!
Today is St. Patrick’s Day, on a Friday, just as it was 22 years ago. Most Fridays (in recent memory) I wear a red shirt, as I am a member of the Red Shirt Society. (NO, not the Italian militia, Southern white supremacist group, or an expendable Star Trek guy!)
It would be awesome if everyone wore RED Shirts every Friday in honor of our military who are deployed. WE as American citizen’s need to keep our Veterans and Military close to our heart and in our prayers.
R – Remember
E – Everyone
D – Deployed
But today, in deference to my celebrating the holiday for the first time in 22 years, I am wearing the GREEN! (Orangemen, of course, are acceptable, too – this IS The United States!) 🙂
HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY, EVERYONE! – O’Guffaw
aft gang agley* (oft go awry – Robert Burns, the poet laureate of Scotland)
I’d plans to ‘improve’ and edit my blog, prior to the Sixth Blogoversary (March 5). I definitely need to edit out of The Usual Suspects (my blogroll) those who are no longer blogging, or have left the grid.
I have not yet done that. 😦
A general observation of my blogging world – It saddens my to two of the finest bloggers out there (Brigid and Tamara) have had to change their blogging formats to by invitation only (in Brigid’s case) and no comments allowed (in Tam’s), both allowing for responses in other venues (FB and Borepatch guest blogging status (in Brigid’s case).
Because of attacks in print by certain blog readers!
I’ve had a few spammers in my six years, but considering the difference in volume and quality of Brigid and Tamara vs. Guffaw, it’s completely understandable I’ve had many fewer.
I will continue my lowly blog, until it no longer is physically possible, or I lose the need for morning discipline and structure.
We come now to one of my first Internet-blogging friends. Rev. Paul. Paul lives in Alaska with his family, and has been a virulent supporter of both this blog and this blogger! His blog Way Up North is rife with tales of the weather, local crime, politics, and moose pictures(!) And often religiously-themed (he IS a Rev., after all) messages of hope for all, whether religious or not.
He announced recently he will be cutting back from almost daily posting to occasionally. Because reasons.
And, this too, makes me sad.
All three of these fine folks have been anchors for me, have given me much which to aspire, and have supported me to a degree they will never know.
It was said a few years back that blogging is going the way of the dinosaur, what with FB, Snapchat, Flickr, Google+, Twitter, and numerous other avenues almost daily being added to the list of social networking.
To all fellow bloggers and friends out there, please keep blogging, reading and commenting.
I’m to old to change formats! 😛
*”Tae a Moose, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough“ (English: “To a Mouse“)(Wikipedia)
From a name-long-forgotten children’s joke book: “Robert Burns wrote ‘To A Field Mouse’.
“I bet he didn’t get an answer!”
(The fact this was a joke book for grade school children further shows how the American public education system has failed. Ask any grade school (or junior high, or even high school) student who Robert Burns was, or what ‘To A Field Mouse’ is.)
I’ll bet you won’t get an answer!
An Obama has joined the birther movement.
Malik Obama, Barack Obama’s half-brother, tweeted image of what appears to be Barack’s birth certificate.
Except it’s not from Hawaii, but rather Kenya.
From the Day Late Dollar Short, or the What Took You So Long Department!
Seriously – How many birth certificates ARE THERE? And how did he get a Connecticut Social Security number? And why are his school records sealed?
And, why would one’s half brother do such a thing? Now?
Inquiring minds want to know!
(Just because sometimes, I like adding fuel to the fire! – Guffaw)
from the desk of GUFFAW
Back in 2011, I had been laid off from TMCCC, disabled due to having had lymphoma, and had been spending a large part of my day reading blogs on the Internet.
No, this was NOT in my mother’s basement! 😛
Frankly, as I had found a number of women who were shooters who wrote blogs (they became my Blogmothers ™!), I had hoped to find someone closer to home. Unfortunately, they were in Indiana, Ohio and Idaho.
I’m in Arizona.
But, I had no luck in the geography department… 😦
After a year-and-a-half, it occurred to me, ‘Hey, I could do this!’ (or, at least mimic others, and steal their material…)
And Guffaw in AZ was born.
So now it’s YEAR SIX!
Posting something DAILY (sometimes two, three or four posts). Daily funnies, beauties, videos and quotes, additionally.
With no real purpose, except to have something to do, and a daily discipline.
And the completely unexpected happened.
I MADE FRIENDS!
Friends all over the World! Europe, Asia, the Middle East, Pakistan and India, South America. Mostly, of course, in the United States.
A huge thank you goes out to the generosity of people I only know through the Internet, who have offered me support, both moral and financial. And given me gifts! You know who you are…
I miss those who are no longer blogging, by choice or life circumstance – North, Matt, Maura, CoolChange, William the Coroner and many others. (If I’ve left you off the list and you are still around, please forgive me).
I am SO GRATEFUL for (in no particular order) Bobbi, Tam, Doc in Yuma, Ron, Proud Hillbilly, Paul, Kevin Baker and the other Kevin, Southern Belle and KX59, Tom, Biff, Keads, Bluesun, Wirecutter, Jim, Greg, Kenny, Quizikle, Sean, Irish, Jeffery and Wilson.
And especially Murphy, Brigid, ASM826 and Borepatch! And Judy, my roomie!
And my dear friend Dave the genius (who prefers to be called Dave the mechanic) who sends me multiple funnies daily to possibly include in the blog! And who – when he is in town – takes me out for Red Devil pizza! And who has been a loyal friend since 1973.
And to all you loyal folks who don’t blog or even leave comments but bother to stop by – THANK YOU!
On to 2018?
PS – (Why Tamara is in red, above) Apologies to the lovely and talented Tamara, who somehow was left off my gratitude list last year! A correction has been made, and I plan on penance by shooting myself in the knee with a VeloDog, as soon as I can afford one!
PPS – TMCCC (for the uninitiated) stands for That Major Credit Card Company, where I worked as a credit card fraud investigator for almost 22 years.
I used to LOVE the rain! Growing up in the desert, it was rare. Coupled with the addition of huge thunderheads, lightening and sudden downpours, it was the BEST!
Then, I got older and two things happened.
- With age and illnesses came THE arthritis. (It’s a rule, once one reaches their sixties, one is required to put THE in from of the infirmity, i.e. the flu, the AIDS, the arthritis.)
- As people in Arizona don’t get rained-upon very often, unlike Midwest, South, and East-Coast people (and pretty much everywhere else!) they are less familiar with the process of driving in the rain.
AND PRETTY MUCH BECOME DANGEROUS IDIOTS ON THE ROAD, WHEN WATER IS INVOLVED!
So, rain isn’t as much fun for me, as it was when I was age eight.
BUT, I’ve developed a theory.
Remember, when it rains, how earthworms surface on sidewalks?
I’m now convinced that those that escape the sidewalks make it to cars, and start driving like maniacs! Obviously they have less driving experience (with the rarity of precipitation). And many don’t even have licenses!
THIS explains how there seem to be more idiot drivers during rainy weather, than when it is dry!
I like speaking and writing correctly. Sometimes, I even succeed at so doing. 🙂
Perhaps a better title for this post would be Word Pet Peeves.
I loathe the use of this instead of the correct word, REGARDLESS. Sadly, the O.E.D. (Oxford English Dictionary) has added this variant as a real word, because it is in common use.
My guess is people were trying to pronounce SUPPOSEDLY, and stumbled. Or mis-heard. Then adopted it as correct. It’s not.
I used to work with an investigator. An educated man, I can only surmise he mis-heard VERBATIM, and ran with it.
(One from my roommate) FORTE
When one is good at something. You may notice an accent is missing. It is NOT FORTE’ ! And is pronounced fort. Again, something done wrong in common usage. Look it up. I had to.
And don’t get me started on mis-heard song lyrics! I blame overly loud speakers, concert noise and the tinny AM radios of my youth. Any suggestion that over indulgence in alcohol or other chemicals does not apply – to me, anyway! 😛
There have been books written about them.
Doughnuts make my brown eyes blue
There’s a bathroom on the right.
Hold me closer Tony Danza
‘Scuse me while I kiss this guy.
I’m certain you can add to the list(?)
But trying, nevertheless.
With my knee being ‘iffy’, and The Horrible Chair, just going downstairs can be a challenge.
And, when my roommate having breathing difficulties and sometimes staying in bed, it’s up to me to be (as my Father would label himself) the chief cook and bottle washer!
That is, take care of the livestock and fetch medicines, water, soda and food for the ‘infirmed’.
I’ve no complaint about so doing – after all, it was my roommate who saved me from possibly having to live on the street with my income decreased and I lost my home.
The ‘problem’ (and this is a joke, folks) is the livestock in question sometimes makes it difficult to do chores. Because, they, too, want attention.
Or just to be in the way!
The first hurdle is (are?) the stairs. I know, not livestock. But just going down them can be painful. And sometimes the kitten (Belle) plays the ‘can I trip him on the stairs’ game. (Does this count as a second hurdle?)
Hurdle Two – the Cage. (In no way resembling Star Trek-TOS episode!) We have taken to giving the livestock the run of the downstairs. We used to pen up the older dogs in the downstairs bath-as a makeshift kennel. And that worked for many years. But, as they have aged (both 16 now), their hearing and vision has diminished. And D.J., especially, gets scared in the dark when he cannot move about freely. This wouldn’t be a problem, except he starts barking. One yelp every eight seconds or so. ALL NIGHT. Or until he finally falls asleep. The yelping resumes when he awakens – even at 0300! Letting them go free gives them enough ambient light to patrol the downstairs and see enough not to bark.
Unless, of course, a stray cat appears in the back yard. No plan is perfect.
(Back to the cage) We have a ‘cage’ kennel we have used for Lola (the puppy-now two, but forever nicknamed as such) which also is just the right size to block the dogs from going upstairs. They are supposed to use the designated paper by the back door, but sometimes they like to sneak to the upper landing. And we don’t like that.
SO, I’ve descended the stairs, and prepare to move The Cage out-of-the-way, when Gracie becomes involved. She likes to sit on top of said cage and add an addition three or four metric tons to it’s weight. HER nickname is BAC – for Big Ass Cat! Plus, she can be kinda snotty if asked to move and might hiss at you!
Gracie aka B.A.C.
Now that we’ve made it down the stairs, and moved the cage, there’s the kitten, again. No, she’s not gone away. If I walk past The Horrible Chair, she will jump up on the seat and demand tribute! Which means flopping over and belly rubs! (the cat, not me) I must admit this is not much of a trial, and rubbing the belly of a purring kitten is quite pleasant. 😛
She can continue with an additional trial, following me incessantly and meowing tiny mews, until I either fill up the water, the food, or change the cat box. She always lets me know. But every time I walk by The Horrible Chair I must pay! 🙂
Okay, okay! I know. Animals are a blessing, and three (or four) interactions with them first thing in the morning is great! (Except for the B.A.C.!)
And four is not twelve. Perhaps I need to rethink this. But The Three or Four Challenges of Hercules just doesn’t have the same ring to it. 😛
I think I was first employed as a private security guard in 1972. Last, in 1987. For about six different companies over the years. Interspersed with being a process server, private investigator, security consultant and numerous other jobs.
Consequently, sometimes my memories conjoin, and sometimes fade. Sometimes, they make me cry (like restricting access to the urgent care facility to allow access for a seriously ill cancer patient – because the cancer made them stink!), and other times they make me chuckle.
Why haven’t I posted about this funny ever before? I’d forgotten about it. A recent course of Nyquil™ helped me to remember! 😛
I was a graveyard shift guard for an urgent care facility three days. And substitute guard supervisor for two. Often filling in for sick, ill, and lazy guards. And those who just decided to quit at the last minute.
(If I couldn’t bribe someone else to fill in…)
One of the offices for the urgent care was adjacent to a popular stage theater/movie house. And sometimes, the audience parking would bleed over into our lot. Our job, as security, was to make certain they simply didn’t restrict patient parking.
Usually no issue or biggie.
But this was Phoenix’s Sombrero Playhouse! Where much of central Phoenix ‘old’ money would go to watch plays, and sometimes first-run films. Then they’d go up 7th Avenue to The Islands for a nice dinner out.
Generally nice, older folks who didn’t want to be annoyed. And had money to enforce that.
And, I was a conservative, somewhat sheltered young lad. Just trying to do my job.
As a last minute aside, I was told there was a new movie at the Sombrero. And some of the patrons ‘dressed in costume and makeup’ to see the film. I was not to express alarm at their ‘getup’.
I’d not heard of the film. It was THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW!
So, a guy pulls in and asks me if it’s okay to park in the clinic lot. I apologize and say no. The first of many times that evening to people who looked (somewhat) like this:
I didn’t express alarm, but did have to stifle laughter!
And my boundaries were again widened. Not because I wanted them to be, necessarily.
And Rocky Horror became an underground hit. And took over ‘Midnight Movies’ at my nearby theater, The Valley Art. The used to run indy films, then it became nothing but Rocky Horror every Friday and Saturday midnight!
Times were a changin’…