- Joined
- May 9, 2002
- Messages
- 12,692
Here I am at one of those crossroads in life that so many people talk about. Frostian, introspective, slightly out of control, etc etc etc. 24 years old, out of college for now (not graduated yet, but will. As Don Adams used to say on Get Smart: "Missed it by that >< much."), have a house with a mortgage, and I'm getting married 3 months from tomorrow. This where most guys start to freak out, get cold feet, and start making up the excuses they are going to tell the future mrs. what REALLY went on at the bachelor party and why there was lipstick on his boxer shorts. That's not Steely's style. Me=control freak. Straight head on with a smile on my face about the changes in life...as long as I am the one doing the changing. I got the jitters tonight. I needed to make SOMETHING happen. I needed to make SOMETHING move forward to get me out of the young man's limbo.
It was time to clean out the garage. Time to throw out the crap that had snuck aboard boxes that i could have SWORN made it to the dumpster when i left my old apartment back in April.
Tonight I started with the furniture. The disgusting stained futon that I had carted around from my freshman year of college was the first on the list. It's not the nice kind of futon. Ya know, the kind with the frame and mattress that in some way actually resembles a couch. Nope. This was one of those squatty little foam jobs. No springs, no mattress. Just a piece of particle board wedged into some purply foam and covered in a cheap paper thin material. They have the lovely colloquial name given by dorm dwellers as the "flip and 'fornicate'". This thing had acted as my "guest bedroom" for the last 6 years. It had a good run. Now it had to be cut to pieces so that the garbage man would pick it up. The thing weighs about 7lbs, but he wouldn't pick it up because they "don't haul away furniture". This isn't furniture. It's an episode of CSI and lighter than my trash can...pick the nasty (not Nasty
) thing up, will ya, dude? Oh well, he'll take it if I hide the foamy corpse in multiple trashbags. Out come the khuks to help me say good bye to my life as a slob, my life as a dirty college student. Time to be a "real" adult. I chose three khuks to help me do the job: My cherokee rose, my M43, and my 22" GRS.
I looked at the thing and decided that the first thing to do was to lop off the arms. I chose the Cherokee Rose for that. I call her Steely Resolve. I drew the 13" blade across the cloth at the seams and futon opened like a sickening rancid whale carcass. the smell of 6 years of cheap beer, cigar smoke, and a multitude of spilled noodle based dinners came pouring out. It was like all my college years flooded back into my face like huffing some kind of psychotic ether. But the rose, she bit deep and in no time I had the smelly thing amputated. Next I moved on to taking the back rest off from the seat. No problem at all. The rose cut through the cheap material like it was nothing. I could only imagine what this beautiful beast would do to a man out of vixen spite. Hell hath no fury like a scorned Cherokee Rose. The more i use this blade, the more it grows on me. It's smooth and deadly and sank hilt deep into the foam like it hated the stuff, like it knew it was going to be the closest thing to blood lust it would ever probably taste. Kinda scary.
Now I had 4 pieces of futon, 2 arms, a back, and a bottom. I thought it best to split the back in two so that it was roughly the same size as the arms. Out came Uber, the 22" GRS. Now Uber ain't pretty. Bura forged him heavy, but when he got to the tip he gave him a bit of a prize figher's profile. Uber's tip is just a tad off center. I've thought about fixing it, but this is a khuk that only comes out when work needs to be done. One of my most trusted and loyal khuks. I figured that i would make short work of the particle board skeleton inside the foam with a few scoring slices to the foam, then a couple of death blows from Uber to the wood should break it in two. My feet and shins are scared to death of the path of Uber. Bura not only made him big, but musical as well. He sings when you run a steel down his edge. He also gets razor sharp with little effort. He's not mean, but you gotta watch your piggies when you swing him. I always wear steel toes, anyway. In 3 swings I had covered 24" of wood and 6" of foam, and the back was in 2 pieces. Impressive.
Finally, I needed to halve the seat/mattress so that is was the same size as the rest of the pieces. I chose the M43 for this because, frankly, I bought the knife in January and have never given it a propper workout. The YCS has always won out over it, but the YCS is getting a facelift by Dan right now. Lemme just say this, I was surprised at the M43's bite. This thing chewed right through two full layers of foam in one swipe. The nylon zipper didn't even phase it. Actually, i didn't even know it was there until i had stopped and saw that the hungry knive had bisected it with little regard. The only thing thing it struggled with was the cloth backing. It twisted and ripped and shreaded the cloth. The thing kind of reminded me of a hyena greedily stuffing it's powerful jaws on a stolen kill. The M43 is now dubbed such, and will be my hiking blade the next time i have to hump it into the woods. Light enough to pack, tough enough to trust, mean enough to help you survive. Very cool knife
I'm not exactly sure what this post is about. It's not a review as you all already know what these knives are capable of. this was not a real test of their might, just a good excuse to thrash stuff with them. Whatever tonight was about I enjoyed it. I enjoyed reliving some memories from years gone by. I really liked the fact that i got to bond with my M43 and reaffirm my lust for the Rose and trust in Uber. I love the fact that I have done something to say, "Hey, Jake isn't afraid. He's not holding onto the past. He loves where he is at in his life. He's looking forward to marriage, and kids, and spending the next 120 sundays at Home Depot helping his wife choose between the colors of "nightshade" and "evening grove" to paint the mailbox. He loves the fact that he is not a kid anymore. You can take his smelly ol' futon, but you can't call him afraid"
Thanks for reading and sorry about the long babbling post
Jake
It was time to clean out the garage. Time to throw out the crap that had snuck aboard boxes that i could have SWORN made it to the dumpster when i left my old apartment back in April.
Tonight I started with the furniture. The disgusting stained futon that I had carted around from my freshman year of college was the first on the list. It's not the nice kind of futon. Ya know, the kind with the frame and mattress that in some way actually resembles a couch. Nope. This was one of those squatty little foam jobs. No springs, no mattress. Just a piece of particle board wedged into some purply foam and covered in a cheap paper thin material. They have the lovely colloquial name given by dorm dwellers as the "flip and 'fornicate'". This thing had acted as my "guest bedroom" for the last 6 years. It had a good run. Now it had to be cut to pieces so that the garbage man would pick it up. The thing weighs about 7lbs, but he wouldn't pick it up because they "don't haul away furniture". This isn't furniture. It's an episode of CSI and lighter than my trash can...pick the nasty (not Nasty
) thing up, will ya, dude? Oh well, he'll take it if I hide the foamy corpse in multiple trashbags. Out come the khuks to help me say good bye to my life as a slob, my life as a dirty college student. Time to be a "real" adult. I chose three khuks to help me do the job: My cherokee rose, my M43, and my 22" GRS.I looked at the thing and decided that the first thing to do was to lop off the arms. I chose the Cherokee Rose for that. I call her Steely Resolve. I drew the 13" blade across the cloth at the seams and futon opened like a sickening rancid whale carcass. the smell of 6 years of cheap beer, cigar smoke, and a multitude of spilled noodle based dinners came pouring out. It was like all my college years flooded back into my face like huffing some kind of psychotic ether. But the rose, she bit deep and in no time I had the smelly thing amputated. Next I moved on to taking the back rest off from the seat. No problem at all. The rose cut through the cheap material like it was nothing. I could only imagine what this beautiful beast would do to a man out of vixen spite. Hell hath no fury like a scorned Cherokee Rose. The more i use this blade, the more it grows on me. It's smooth and deadly and sank hilt deep into the foam like it hated the stuff, like it knew it was going to be the closest thing to blood lust it would ever probably taste. Kinda scary.
Now I had 4 pieces of futon, 2 arms, a back, and a bottom. I thought it best to split the back in two so that it was roughly the same size as the arms. Out came Uber, the 22" GRS. Now Uber ain't pretty. Bura forged him heavy, but when he got to the tip he gave him a bit of a prize figher's profile. Uber's tip is just a tad off center. I've thought about fixing it, but this is a khuk that only comes out when work needs to be done. One of my most trusted and loyal khuks. I figured that i would make short work of the particle board skeleton inside the foam with a few scoring slices to the foam, then a couple of death blows from Uber to the wood should break it in two. My feet and shins are scared to death of the path of Uber. Bura not only made him big, but musical as well. He sings when you run a steel down his edge. He also gets razor sharp with little effort. He's not mean, but you gotta watch your piggies when you swing him. I always wear steel toes, anyway. In 3 swings I had covered 24" of wood and 6" of foam, and the back was in 2 pieces. Impressive.
Finally, I needed to halve the seat/mattress so that is was the same size as the rest of the pieces. I chose the M43 for this because, frankly, I bought the knife in January and have never given it a propper workout. The YCS has always won out over it, but the YCS is getting a facelift by Dan right now. Lemme just say this, I was surprised at the M43's bite. This thing chewed right through two full layers of foam in one swipe. The nylon zipper didn't even phase it. Actually, i didn't even know it was there until i had stopped and saw that the hungry knive had bisected it with little regard. The only thing thing it struggled with was the cloth backing. It twisted and ripped and shreaded the cloth. The thing kind of reminded me of a hyena greedily stuffing it's powerful jaws on a stolen kill. The M43 is now dubbed such, and will be my hiking blade the next time i have to hump it into the woods. Light enough to pack, tough enough to trust, mean enough to help you survive. Very cool knife
I'm not exactly sure what this post is about. It's not a review as you all already know what these knives are capable of. this was not a real test of their might, just a good excuse to thrash stuff with them. Whatever tonight was about I enjoyed it. I enjoyed reliving some memories from years gone by. I really liked the fact that i got to bond with my M43 and reaffirm my lust for the Rose and trust in Uber. I love the fact that I have done something to say, "Hey, Jake isn't afraid. He's not holding onto the past. He loves where he is at in his life. He's looking forward to marriage, and kids, and spending the next 120 sundays at Home Depot helping his wife choose between the colors of "nightshade" and "evening grove" to paint the mailbox. He loves the fact that he is not a kid anymore. You can take his smelly ol' futon, but you can't call him afraid
"Thanks for reading and sorry about the long babbling post
Jake
