Fun with a normal white guy...
Sharing experiences in the world of debauchery.
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
Homemade is Always Better
Posted:Jul 15, 2020 4:11 pm
Last Updated:Dec 12, 2020 4:40 pm

I'm sure many of you have been riveted, awaiting my assessment of the silencer I bought and recently came be in my possession. It was a bit of a let down, honestly. I bought it before I knew a whole lot about suppression and it wasn't exactly the best choice I could have made.

How did it stack up the silencers I've built, myself? After doing heads up testing against the three cans I've built, I can honestly say that two of my three beat the commercial unit handily. The third is too close to tell. Mine are all lighter, as well, since they're either partially or entirely titanium.

So, there's your range report for mid-July.
Be Very Very Quiet
Posted:Jul 7, 2020 4:40 pm
Last Updated:Dec 12, 2020 4:40 pm

This entry has zero to do with dating or sex, but it's cool stuff and keeping my shelter in place mind off of dating, sex, and my hatred of the Midwest. Also, per typical Heated Affairs, words will be removed for no reason, so give me some credit for being coherent.

I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice to say one of my work friends is an evil enabler, when it comes to things that go bang. My current stop on the train to a permanent spot on the government's watch list is Silencer City.

Late last year, I purchased my first silencer. Cool, right? For a gun guy it is, so humor me. What's not so cool is I still can't take it home. You see, once you've purchased and paid for your adorable tube of quiet, the ATF must still approve that purchase, so, your little black cylinder of joy sits 'in jail' until the that happens, which can be up to a year. I'm at 188 days, not that I'm keeping track. I own the silencer and can use it at my dealer's shooting range; I just can't take it home. Shortly after my second conjugal visit, I discovered that you can legally build your own silencer. The best part is that the associated ATF approval for that only takes about 30 days. Well, why didn't you tell me!?

You may be thinking you need your own machine shop to fabricate one of these little gems, but it's amazingly simple. There are devices called solvent traps, which are tubes that screw onto the end of your barrel during cleaning, and are designed to catch excess solvent and cleaning patches. They have little dividers and chambers to maximize the amount of material they can hold. But when you drill a hole through the center of the solvent trap and through the dividers, it becomes a silencer. There's quite a bit more to it than that, but nothing that can't be done with a drill press and a Dremel. And like most hobbies, there's a very active online community that you can lean on for advice.

So, off I went. So far, I've designed and built three silencers, and am waiting on ATF approval for one final can. God bless the ATF. Each and every silencer application, officially known as a Form 1, requires a background check, submitting two sets of finger prints, and a $200 tribute to the crown. Once approved, you receive a tax stamp (it literally is a stamp) for the silencer you want to build. With that in hand (or in your email), it's time to break out the tools. Should you drill prior to receiving your stamp, you are committing a felony.

The best part is that if you've done your homework, you'll wind up with a can that outperforms ones you can buy off the shelf. That is, if you design for a particular application. For example, my first silencer was designed to be used solely for subsonic 300 Blackout, and it's damned good. The loudest thing you hear is the rifle's bolt cycling.

And now, the Q&A:

Do silencers really work as well as in the movies? In a word, No. A silencer will decrease the level of sound created by a gun shot, but it won't eliminate it. This is particularly true with higher powered rounds, which still require hearing protection, while using a silencer. Plus, there's the noise of the gun cycling, as I mentioned. One of the folks I know measured the sound of a bolt cycling at 112 decibels; about as loud as a jackhammer, which is not quiet.

Why would you need a silencer? I'll admit my primary reason for wanting to own a silencer is because it's fucking cool (for a shooting enthusiast). I'd be lying through my teeth if I claimed to not to have felt a little James Bond ish, when I threaded a silencer onto a gun, the first few times. There are also legit benefits to using these devices. If, heaven forbid, you have to use your gun to defend your home against an intruder, you either suffer permanent hearing loss or use a silencer. They also protect your hearing, when shooting at the range. High power rifles are really loud, so hearing protection can only do so much; I had a mild ringing in my right ear after a recent session. A silencer attenuates the sound enough to make them safer; you'll still want to wear hearing protection, though.

Why would I want to build a own silencer? Because You.Can.Build.Your.Own.Silencer. Plus, as I mentioned above, you can frequently achieve better results versus commercial offerings. They're lighter, too, because we tend to build everything out of titanium. It may seem unusual, but some people make a hobby out of it.

Once I finish my last suppressor, I'll be departing Silencer City. It's been a fun hobby, but it's not inexpensive. The can I mentioned above cost me $640, not including the $200 tax stamp.

And under the heading of fortuitous timing, I just received a call that the stamp for the silencer in jail just arrived. Off to claim it as mine.
Heated Affairs Blogs - Worse than Trump
Posted:May 13, 2020 2:40 pm
Last Updated:Jun 11, 2021 2:27 pm

Rant - I copy paste my blog entries from my real blog, which is what I did with my most recent one. When I went reread it later, I discovered the word '' had been removed from the first half of the entry.

I think I'm entitled ask 'what the ever loving fuck????' If there are actual mods this thing, they're most certainly victims of horrendous brain trauma, sitting in their own feces.

Let's see how long it takes for this get pulled.

, Motherfucker!
When This Is Over...When Is This Over?
Posted:May 13, 2020 12:30 pm
Last Updated:Jun 5, 2020 10:20 am

The pandemic has caused us behave in a way that's so atypical for most people. Everyone wants this to be over, obviously to end the suffering and death, but also to get the hell out of their houses. Most everyone longs to break from the confines of their homes and interact with friends, family, lovers, and so on.

I've read and heard so many sentiments, from people, regarding what they're going do when this is over. Road trip, begin dating, have sex with whomever I want, pursue a life long love of curling, raise pangolins in the Belgian Congo. The list goes on.

But when is this over? When do you emerge from your bunker and resume life?

If you're waiting for someone broadcast an ALL CLEAR, you'll be waiting for some time. That will take an effective vaccine to be developed and distributed, which is at least a year out. Until then, you can count the sociopath in chief to bungle the response, with the infections and deaths flowing from peak to peak. He'll likely screw the pooch getting a vaccine to the populous, as well.

Countries with competent leaders thought they'd contained the virus and allowed a slow reopening, only to have to shut things back down, when the number of cases began to surge again.

And the virus has become a nasty fucker, killing people without them exhibiting symptoms and attacking beyond the respiratory system.

So, when is it over for you? At what point will you attempt to resume some sort of normal life?

Is your decision tied to an infection or death rate dropping to a certain level? Perhaps, it's a mental barrier, where you say 'fuck it, those fucking pangolins are calling!'

Personally, I'm nowhere near that point and won't be any time soon. And I truly feel for those who's lives have been upended and lost their incomes. My stylist texted me yesterday, telling me her salon was reopening and could she book an appointment for me on the 24th. Hell no. I told her I'd for an appointment, but not show.

So when is it really over for you?
Fuck Me Harder!!...And We'll Put In a Happy Little Tree Over Here
Posted:Apr 30, 2020 6:44 pm
Last Updated:May 1, 2020 12:23 pm

In trading notes with the remaining ex, who recently resurfaced, she reminded me of one of the most amusing moments we had in bed.

It was a Saturday afternoon and we were relaxing to an episode of Bob Ross. We apparently began to feel frisky and after pausing Bob, we found ourselves in the heat of passion in my bedroom. I had a first floor master, so the living room was just outside the master bedroom. Anyway, as I'm thrusting deep inside her, her nearing her next orgasm, Bob Ross begins to talk about putting in happy little trees. The DVR I had would only pause for 20 minutes, then resume playing.

I rolled off of her, both of us laughing hysterically about our sexplay being interrupted by Bob Ross. Needless to say, I went out and properly shut Bob down, before returning to complete my mission.
A Herd of Exes
Posted:Apr 28, 2020 6:23 pm
Last Updated:Apr 29, 2020 3:17 pm

At some point, over the past few weeks of lock down, I recall seeing something on social media on a trend of people reaching out to reconnect with their exes. I quickly dismissed it, because it's just not something I would do. That's not to say I wouldn't like to reconnect. With the exception of those like the thing that wouldn't leave and borderline ex-wife, I still respect the hell out of most of those I've been intimate with. Unfortunately, these are also the women who I was unable to give them what they wanted from me. Trust me, I miss interacting with a few of my previous partners and had tamped impulses to reach out, before the quarantine. But the last thing I want to do is dredge up feelings they've hopefully put in their little boxes. Causing others pain because of my own selfish motives isn't something I can allow myself to do. I just wish that someone would tell the ones I miss about the selfish thing.

This evening marks the third woman, who lives on the above list, to reach out. Two immediately ghosted me, one remains present and in communication.

How many exes have you reconnected with, during the lockdown?
Down in Flames Part II - The Insightful Bachelor Bares His Soul
Posted:Apr 21, 2020 5:28 pm
Last Updated:Apr 22, 2020 5:53 am

This afternoon, I connected with Number Four's mother and we spent two hours chatting. I think she needed the conversation as much as her needs my advice. I filled in the gaps where she had been stuck at 'something just isn't right'. Long story short, borderline doesn't change its stripes. If anything, it's worse for Number Four, because it seems as I suspected, the ex has added narcissistic personality disorder to her mix. She's essentially a more sophisticated Donald Trump, with boobs and no legs.

We cleared up a number of lies that have been told about me and confirmed certain suspicions I had at the time of my divorce. Even the most independent soul appreciates some occasional validation. The conversation provided validation for her as well. There were a few chuckles over the blatant manipulation tactics my ex continues to use and it made me feel good to be able to provide some guidance that'll minimize the damage to Number Four, his mental health, and bank account. Unfortunately, the call also broke my heart.

I've likely mentioned it in another entry, but when borderlines have more than one , one becomes the 'white' and a another, the 'black' . The white can do no wrong and is the apple of their mother's eye. The other rarely does anything right and never feels unconditional love; their childhood is a series of loyalty tests. In most cases, the black become borderlines, themselves. I knew nothing of this when I met my wife, but it was impossible to miss how she favored her over her . In an effort to balance the situation, I made a point of showing Alexandra consistent, unconditional love. She was my golden haired princess and I was both her fiercest protector and biggest cheerleader. The two of us were thick as thieves. But as she grew into her teens, our relationship became a bit rocky. I continued to do my level best to be the constant in her life, but it was tough. She had already begun to exhibit what I now know to be borderline tendencies and was frequently just out of control. We had some contact after the separation, where I begged her to get into therapy, offering to choose a therapist and pay for her treatment. Her mother had thrown her out, so I even offered to support her living expenses. All she needed to do was go in with an open mind. She wound up breaking contact shortly after, not managing to go to a single session. Worth noting is my ex made it more attractive to the not to have contact with me, so we completely lost touch. No, that didn't hurt at all or become one of the few topics I refuse to talk about any further than what you've just read.

Anyway, I still kept tabs on the via social media. Alex went on to drive urban revitalization in our hometown, open two thrift shops, get married, and was named a woman in business to watch. I was so proud of her and overjoyed that she seemed to have broken the cycle.

During my conversation with Number Four's mother, she told me that the Alex she knows is what she can best describe as angry. She said she lies and manipulates almost as much as her mother, if not to the same level of sophistication. Learning that ripped my heart to shreds. She's the innocent, the baby, and she's had no one to protect her who understands what she's really been through. It's a fucking tragedy and a fucking crime.
1 comment
And That's Marriage Number Four - Down in Flames!
Posted:Apr 20, 2020 5:27 pm
Last Updated:Apr 21, 2020 4:00 pm

For those who've muddled through my previous entries, you're aware of how my ex-wife is the gift that gave and has kept on giving. From the manipulation, to the throwing of the ham, to the hell she put me through in our divorce, marrying hubby number four, and the piece de resistance, becoming a wedding officiant. I thought that she was done, hoped she was done because I genuinely hold no ill will toward her and want her to be happy, because she's got more than her fair share of demons to contend with. But I was optimistic because she and Number Four have been together for ten years, a new record for her. I thought of her the other day and wondered if she'd finally gotten it together.

Then today, my father called to inform me that Number Four's mother reached out to him. Apparently, the marriage is on its last leg and circling the drain, and NF wanted to know what divorce attorney I'd used. I can only speculate that my ex complained about how much of a bastard the guy was, hence his desire to go with the same formula. My attorney has no love lost for my ex, partially because she was trash talking him to his (unbeknownst to her) at a cocktail party. Oops... Maybe he'll offer a discount; she is a repeat defendant after all.

I feel for the guy, because everyone who knows him has nothing but praise for how kind and goodhearted he is. But as I've noted before, you have to be pretty naive and more than a little dense to sign up to be Number Four in the first place. Poor guy is about to enter a living hell, when he asks for a divorce and no one deserves that. I'm hoping to connect with him before he pulls the trigger, so he can at least be a little prepared for the firestorm that's about to engulf him.

All part of life's rich pageant, my friends. Thankfully, I'm not on the stage as one of the players, this time. Someone please pass the popcorn?
Your Quarantine Automotive PSA
Posted:Apr 12, 2020 4:23 pm
Last Updated:Apr 13, 2020 6:29 pm

For those who have been not out and about for several days at a time, there's yet another thing you should be aware of. That's your car's battery. Nothing will kill a car's battery more quickly than very occasional driving.

I highly recommend either a battery tender or, if circumstances don't allow for one, take your car for a ten minute spin every days. That will allow the electrical system charge the battery back . I can't recommend the Battery Tender brand enough. I bought the battery in the Porsche within the same 3 month period as my daily, except it lives on its tender. Thing is still going strong.

Being a car guy, I should have known this, but didn't think until the battery in my daily driver shit the bed. It was in its twilight years, before self-isolation, but not quite ready go into the great battery beyond. However, not being driven regularly allowed its charge to dip further and further each time I drove it. I've had it on a tender for the past two days and it won't rise from the dead, like Jesus did on this day.
Living In KC During the Super Bowl
Posted:Feb 2, 2020 5:24 pm
Last Updated:Feb 5, 2020 4:27 pm

As anyone 's read previous entries knows, I'm less than fond of living in Kansas City. As a result, I'm militantly apathetic about their little sports teams. However, I discovered positive aspect of the Chiefs making it the big game.

Now that I've decided resume shooting competitively, it's been a nice way fill the time and be more social. I belong an amazing club, with some great people. Obviously, a 60 degree Sunday in KC would typically mean a packed shooting range. Except today. I waited later in the afternoon head over and efforts were rewarded. I practically had the place myself.

I broke in barrels on rifles and dialed in scopes.

It was a good day and I'm thankful for it.
Tale of the Self-Centered
Posted:Dec 29, 2019 12:43 pm
Last Updated:Mar 12, 2020 10:42 am

Under the heading of shit I've only encountered in Kansas...

Long story short, I had made contact with a woman who, after a year of being celibate, wanted to get laid on NYE. We agreed to meet beforehand, in order we weren't stuck with someone we didn't like the day of.

So she arrived Christmas evening and quality sex was had. She appeared to be dateworthy, so she stayed and additional quality sex was had. Her selfish tendencies came to light during that sex, however. Before we met, I made a point of sharing how a previous partner's selfishness in the bedroom doomed our relationship to a platonic one. The condensed version is I rarely inside a woman because I typically don't stop until I've done my best to blow her mind. So, my energy for that one last push just isn't there. All I ask is my partner take one for the team, occasionally, and finish me orally. I reiterated my wish each of the five times we had sex and I'd run out of steam, but she couldn't be bothered. In all, I think I received a total of 2 minutes of oral.

One of the two nights I was getting ready for bed, when she asked if the phone charger next to the bed was mine. As if it could belong to someone else? I responded that it was. Except she decided it was hers, because when I came into the bedroom, her phone was plugged into it, .

While she was here, most of the conversation was her relating drama about her family, the divorce process, and a few other topics. That got a bit old, as one could imagine.

The thing that wouldn't leave finally departed late Friday morning because she needed to attend a funeral. She said she'd me as soon as she knew whether she could come over or if things had gone long. When I didn't receive a 6: p.m., I decided she was on her own for dinner. When one hadn't arrived at 7: p.m., I'd pretty much decided that, sans another death or severe bodily trauma, she was getting the heave ho. At 7:50 p.m., a finally arrived, saying she was tired and would me in the morning. Yeah, thanks for letting me know early enough so that I could adjust my plans... In my potentially fantasy world, when you say you're going to someone with plans, you someone with plans, whether they're your friend or some dipshit you work with.

At :50 Saturday morning, I was awoken knocking on my door. It was followed door bell ringing. That pattern alternated without pause. Knock knock knock knock, ring ring ring... It was constant. At that point, I didn't know who was at my door, and willing them to shut the fuck up wasn't working. So, as one does when there's a lunatic at their front door, I grabbed something in a large caliber and went downstairs to investigate. You already know it was her. Well, I went off on her in the semi-coherent manner one does when one is awoken from a deep sleep. However, the message that she needed to stay the fuck away from me was crystal clear.

Fortunately, all indications are she did listen to that bit of direction.

In summary, holy fuck, I've never encountered anyone so self-centered and ultimately bereft of courtesy toward others. Such a shame, because the sex was about the best I've had in the flatlands.
Check Out My Juicy Sausage Baby
Posted:Nov 27, 2019 8:13 am
Last Updated:Nov 27, 2019 10:38 am
Sorry, not kind. I just threw a small batch of sausage into the smoker and hope to redeem myself for the previous one; also my first ever sausage. The first batch looked delicious, but was poorly executed and had the texture of sawdust in a casing.

But it looked good.
When The Balance Of Power Turns
Posted:Nov 11, 2019 8:08 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2019 7:04 pm

No, this isn't about D/s or even about sex. Consider it more of a life lesson on how you treat the candidates you interview for a job.

To keep it brief, back in September, I interviewed for a job North Carolina. It was a good fit, for a of reasons I won't go into and I was excited about moving back to the East Coast. Shocker, I know. I even had an inside track in the form of a friend whose agency does all the marketing communications for this company. He fed all the info he got on the other candidates and how their interviews went, from another friend who worked for the company. Total lock, right?

Well, the hiring manager didn't think so. This job was sales management and he thought I was 'too much of a marketing guy.' Except despite my follow up just outside the time he committed to have a decision to me, the guy was dark. I actually found out I didn't get the position from my friend.

Fast forward two months, to last week, and sitting in a global marketing meeting, where one of my colleagues speaks about developing an electric ass scratcher (make believe product the company I interviewed with manufactures). I see an excellent opportunity to partner with an expert on electric ass scratchers, instead of trying to develop our own, because our value proposition is tech anti itch solutions, of which we have significant market share. I intended to connect my team with the company in NC, but then I thought, fuck them; they didn't have the decency to provide with some form of feedback. The vindictive part of me wanted to reach to rub it in the ass scratcher's , that being an asshole lost them a fuck ton of revenue and market visibility. But too professional, burning bridges and all.

Things changed the next evening, because I finally did receive a rejection email from ass scratcher. Thank you for the opening!

I responded and concluded with this:

Furthermore, during our global marketing meeting, last week, one of the other market managers mentioned development on a ass scratcher unit and the potential need for a higher capacity ass scratching system. I informed him that there were companies whose sole business was ass scratching management and that he should consider partnering with one, rather than reinventing the wheel internally, particularly because the market position our company enjoys in this application would drive significant revenue for both parties.

Best Regards,

So, back to the moral which is essentially the golden rule, because being an asshole can prevent you from a partnership worth millions in revenue.
1 comment

To link to this blog (New2Midlo) use [blog New2Midlo] in your messages.

 New2Midlo 52M
52 M
November 2021
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat

Recent Visitors

Visitor Age Sex Date
iwant2lickuthere 54M12/4
pagancountrygirl  64F12/4
28shyblueyes  59M12/1
CuriousHer  52F11/29
positively4you 72F11/29
lust4life59  62F11/29
willybill66 66M11/29
alex943322  27M11/29
mechanictim  59M11/29