A knife is not a gun, but it is a tool all the same. I have knives, and many of them are razor sharp, but not all.
A busted tire, a felled tree, a crying child, each of these a priority in no particular order as is often the case.
So the unsharpened knives go on, dull and unused.
I had opportunity today to address the chip in a particular blade and it is now usable, perfection being the enemy of the good.
In the back of garage drawers and rusty toolboxes lies a blade or two of your own.
My suggestion is that you pay attention to the tools you have, and whether or not they are of any use to you in their current state.
Fix something, my goats, whether it be yourself, a long neglected heirloom, or the thing that may one day save you from necessity, that Mother of All Inventions.
I was at Publix about 9pm. I'm loading cases of water into the bed of my truck.
A black kid every bit of 6'4" comes walking up in the parking lot headed toward the store. He's very young. 18 at the most.
I look at him and he walks past me. 2 seconds after he walks past I look over my shoulder to see where he went.
The motherfucker had made a U turn and was approaching me from behind! With my left shoulder toward him I put my right hand on my concealed gun in the holster in my waistband.
The son of a bitch did an immediate about face and walked off in a perpendicular direction. Not headed to the store after all.
He couldnt see my draw hand. Was it the look on my face? What would have happened if I hadnt looked behind me? He wasnt panhandling.
