Family wallops would-be robber, wraps things up for police: "WEST PALM BEACH — While covering his head amid the barrage of flying fists and feet, his legs bound with a jump-rope by children half his size, a bruised and bloodied Craig Mack had a sudden realization, police say: He'd picked the wrong family to mess with.
Mack arrived at the Perez family home at 611 28th St. Monday night just as an exhausted Mateo Perez was getting home from a 12-hour day of landscaping and cleaning buildings. Mack probably figured he could swipe Perez's wallet and get away without much of a fight, police said."
If they're not citizens yet, I vote we award them citizenship immediately.
14 comments:
Yes, people should do a better job of standing up for themselves. It would deter some of this nonsense.
When they named Sam Colt's revolver "the peacemaker", there was not even a trace of irony or sarcasm in it.
Shouldn't that be wobber.
That would be an unfair trade, Skook. We need to get up to at least a 10/1 ratio for it to be equitable.
Never liked the safety on that model side-by-side. It's a thumb center-toggle between the breech and the break pivot, and unless you look at it in good light, you have to remind yourself "push/fire, pull/safe" (or is it the other way around?).
Then, when one of the kids is using it, you have to worry about *their* memories, too.
The exposed-hammer side-by-side is neat-looking and positive-safe.
Skook, Rossi still makes the hammer shotgun. I have one, called "the Overland", just like Gabby Hayes carried on the stagecoach, except it's modern-made. Well, 70s, if that's modern.
Oddly enough, I know exactly what you mean.
I bought the Rossi when I was working in Brazil, tho, as a thank you to the nice associates. Bought it here, but while doing hitch work there.
Same kind of whimsy, trying to add a dimension to the little things, as a sort of hobby.
Really sweet little lightweight short-barrel, cost about $50, learned today looking for it on the web that it's discontinued (tho not Rossi's hammer line) and worth $600. Hey, that's better than a sharp stick in the eye!
That 870 is a fail-save workhorse--but that's a pretty extensive modification. You probly did wise to hand off to a real shop.
I was in Venezuela most of my South American sojourn, offshore some--tests in the Golfo, but most of the time out of Anaco & El Tigre and southeast. I was consulting for Fluidos de Perforacion, under CorpoVen, but mainly on Santa Fe rigs--which they lent out to Petrobras a few times in the Orinoco basin area. Those heavy crude wells in the southeast that Hugo just expropriated (or nearly so), I was the drilling fluid tech on the wildcats that found that stuff, late 70s early 80s. I finally quit and came back stateside as the kids were growing up without me, month-long hitches with little sleep as the Vens had a native-training rig-crews program, and they were not experienced, to put it mildly. So, stay awake a month in the jungle, go home and sleep a month to catch up, then go back. Okay for a young guy, for a few years, cause the $$$ was so good.
What were you doing down there? If it was illegal, don't tell me!
\;-D
I tried to shop Venezuela, too, but couldn't keep buying fruit baskets forever.
Right-o--tell the indians in the outback about Gaia--ha! They got Gaia up the wazoo; they want Westinghouse.
Caracas is utterly sublime, the mountains running down to the sea and moons as big as dinner plates over the silvery sea. Never mugged except whatever I did to myself, which was tantamount to it a few times, ouch.
The highways--mercy. two lane strips, no shoulder, often a foot of drop-off the outside edge, and everybody barreling along on bald tires at 100 mph on that 20-cent gas. Little groups of crosses stuck in the ground every few miles where someone had a head-on, and the families placed the little wooded memorials at the site. Cities were okay, but that back country--wow. The firsy 707 I caught, out of Maracaibo to Anaco or someplace, I board the ship, the AC is off and it's hot, and the pilot is sitting at the yoke in his drawers. Little indians about 4' tall running around everywhere with a parrot or a monkey on their shoulder, grinning like maniacs. Wasted American ex-pats in the bars running out their strings, can't go home because of all the subpoenas and such. Wild west.
Johannesburg--you must've been contracted to some gold miners, too, huh? Boy, betcha THAT fee scale is jumping!
being a South Africa hand and a gun guy, you must know this site--Kim DuToit--lots of gun pics & info and SA lore--
Yeh--he's a wild man.
If you haven't seen 'em, by all means rent the movies "The Gods Must Be Crazy" -- and the same-name sequel, "part II". South Africa, 70s, the brush wars with Angola and Cuba, and the little Hottentots trying to make sense--they're the sweetest-spirited comedies I believe I've ever seen. Aussie flix, about Southern Africa.
Well yakkin' with you about old times brought back some fun memories, that otherwise might've never seen the light of recall again--who knows. So, it was a recharge--yep, the internet is wonderful!
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