Blowguns
Moderators: Bonzo, Wally J. Corpse, The Motley Crew
Forum rules
There are a few things you should know before posting in these forums. If you are a new user, please click here and read carefully. Thanks a lot!
There are a few things you should know before posting in these forums. If you are a new user, please click here and read carefully. Thanks a lot!
Heya Vagrant!
Thanks to Pushbutton for pointing me to this thread. I'm interested in purchasing a blow gun Mr. Vagrant. Any favorite sites or sellers?
-
The Falcon
- Posts: 2927
- Joined: Fri May 24, 2002 11:21 am
- Location: The Peoples Republic of California
....I've just recieved these pics in my mail...... they show darts fired from a .50 calibre blowgun.....
-
Mors Profundis
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Sat Aug 30, 2003 8:21 pm
- Location: Baltimore
What a wonderful place this is, to have friends who appreciate switchblades, butterfly knives and blowguns........ah, is there a proper word?
As one who sold the Jivaro blowgun of hallowed memory(the bead darts were not as efficient as cone darts, but you got to make them yourself.)
Now, the wire that those darts was made of was carbon steel, and could be heat treated.
It could also be sharpened.
Long years ago, when I practiced strange and forbidden martial arts, a Peeping Tom began to afflict my neighbothood.
Tired of the jerk rummaging around my door after dark, I resolved to do him bodily, but non-fatal, harm.
This skell showed up every Tuesday night(Baltimore cops being what they are-and I was one of them-the lack of a specific time seemed to prevent them doing anything about this.)
I cut six inches of that wonderful spring-steel wire(I miss it, it had many uses, not the least of which was cleaning clogs out of my tobacco pipes when they reached the vitrified stage I too often allow to happen), then lit my alcohol lamp.
I heated the rear end, set the amber bead in place, the capped the lamp for later, as there was work for my Dremel tool.
A needle sharp point was soon achieved, and the lamp lit again.
I heated the point to cherry red, then quenched it in an ice cube.
Dead hard.
Next, with sharpening stones grooved for fish-hooks, I honed that dart to surgical sharpenss.
Tuesday night, swathed all in black and grey, I disappeared into a convenient patch of weeds, and practiced the art of invisibility, in one of it's many forms.
And this ring-meat showed up after only a two-hour wait.
I let him creep and peep, as he always did, until I had the angle I wanted for my shot-our boy bent over, and his prat in the air.
A sit-up, poof-spung, yeeowwww!!!!
Imagine the effect on this dildo, as he thinks he's all alone, he's all keyed up with the thought of what he might see, and the fear of getting caught, and suddenly, out of nowhere, as if by the hand of some avenging old biddy ghost. a six-inch hatpin is sunk bone deep in one of his ever so tense nates.
The scream was devine, the fall down the back porch stairs was exquisite, the limping retreat in a stream of very bad language was satisfying in the extreme.
As were the traces of feces and urine I discovered on a discreet reconnisance the next day.
And the parking-lot pizza I found not far down the alley.
He wisely did not return, as the next stage was going to be more severe, and involve him being blown away, just a little.
I had a couple of those nasty little cherry bombs that simpletons make out of little CO2 capsules, gunpowder and cannon fuse.
These I had taken from a pie-faced brat who had tossed one down a sewer hole, and been stunned by the concussion.
Of course, I saved them for some noble use, like dropping down the sewer clean out, if the damnable old bat who rented me my apartment decided to toss me out.
But they were never needed to deal with either situation, so I rolled them both down a sewer hole in Fell's Point on New Year's Eve.
Nobody even noticed.
As one who sold the Jivaro blowgun of hallowed memory(the bead darts were not as efficient as cone darts, but you got to make them yourself.)
Now, the wire that those darts was made of was carbon steel, and could be heat treated.
It could also be sharpened.
Long years ago, when I practiced strange and forbidden martial arts, a Peeping Tom began to afflict my neighbothood.
Tired of the jerk rummaging around my door after dark, I resolved to do him bodily, but non-fatal, harm.
This skell showed up every Tuesday night(Baltimore cops being what they are-and I was one of them-the lack of a specific time seemed to prevent them doing anything about this.)
I cut six inches of that wonderful spring-steel wire(I miss it, it had many uses, not the least of which was cleaning clogs out of my tobacco pipes when they reached the vitrified stage I too often allow to happen), then lit my alcohol lamp.
I heated the rear end, set the amber bead in place, the capped the lamp for later, as there was work for my Dremel tool.
A needle sharp point was soon achieved, and the lamp lit again.
I heated the point to cherry red, then quenched it in an ice cube.
Dead hard.
Next, with sharpening stones grooved for fish-hooks, I honed that dart to surgical sharpenss.
Tuesday night, swathed all in black and grey, I disappeared into a convenient patch of weeds, and practiced the art of invisibility, in one of it's many forms.
And this ring-meat showed up after only a two-hour wait.
I let him creep and peep, as he always did, until I had the angle I wanted for my shot-our boy bent over, and his prat in the air.
A sit-up, poof-spung, yeeowwww!!!!
Imagine the effect on this dildo, as he thinks he's all alone, he's all keyed up with the thought of what he might see, and the fear of getting caught, and suddenly, out of nowhere, as if by the hand of some avenging old biddy ghost. a six-inch hatpin is sunk bone deep in one of his ever so tense nates.
The scream was devine, the fall down the back porch stairs was exquisite, the limping retreat in a stream of very bad language was satisfying in the extreme.
As were the traces of feces and urine I discovered on a discreet reconnisance the next day.
And the parking-lot pizza I found not far down the alley.
He wisely did not return, as the next stage was going to be more severe, and involve him being blown away, just a little.
I had a couple of those nasty little cherry bombs that simpletons make out of little CO2 capsules, gunpowder and cannon fuse.
These I had taken from a pie-faced brat who had tossed one down a sewer hole, and been stunned by the concussion.
Of course, I saved them for some noble use, like dropping down the sewer clean out, if the damnable old bat who rented me my apartment decided to toss me out.
But they were never needed to deal with either situation, so I rolled them both down a sewer hole in Fell's Point on New Year's Eve.
Nobody even noticed.
Life has no value, but death has it's price
-
Wally J. Corpse
- Level Zero: True Jerk
- Posts: 1865
- Joined: Thu May 23, 2002 7:59 pm
- Location: Fornicalia
Greetings, Mr. Mors Profundus-
First off, Howya' doin'? I kinna recall if'n I've ever cast my wooden eye and woolen wit upon ye' as yet...
Anyways- good work! Nothing quite as satisfying as dispensing a little frontier justice, 'eh?
Your ol' pal Wally has this recommendation for the next round of peeping. Using your TM-31 210 manual, simply substitute 1 pint liquid contact cement for explosive payload in homemade 'Bouncing Betty'. The effects upon the receipiant will be well worth the effort, especially if egress route is pre-paved with shallow, concealed trenches lined with Simplex nails in mastic, and decorated with mid-power snares made with old high 'E' electric guitar strings.
AS ever,
Your ol' pal,
Wally J. Corpse
P.S. The above technical data excerpted from the current Wally J. Corpse Grudge Program method doctrine-- any volunteers for sign-up?
First off, Howya' doin'? I kinna recall if'n I've ever cast my wooden eye and woolen wit upon ye' as yet...
Anyways- good work! Nothing quite as satisfying as dispensing a little frontier justice, 'eh?
Your ol' pal Wally has this recommendation for the next round of peeping. Using your TM-31 210 manual, simply substitute 1 pint liquid contact cement for explosive payload in homemade 'Bouncing Betty'. The effects upon the receipiant will be well worth the effort, especially if egress route is pre-paved with shallow, concealed trenches lined with Simplex nails in mastic, and decorated with mid-power snares made with old high 'E' electric guitar strings.
AS ever,
Your ol' pal,
Wally J. Corpse
P.S. The above technical data excerpted from the current Wally J. Corpse Grudge Program method doctrine-- any volunteers for sign-up?
Wally a better alternitive to your 10 penny punji sticks.
drill holes the same dia. as a .45 acp cartridge into a block of wood. Place a carpet tack in the center of each hole. Place a cartridge on top of the tack and leave under your window and wait for said stalker to step on a cartridge thus depressing it on the primer resulting in "The one foot hoppity hood dance"
I hope this helps
Missaman
drill holes the same dia. as a .45 acp cartridge into a block of wood. Place a carpet tack in the center of each hole. Place a cartridge on top of the tack and leave under your window and wait for said stalker to step on a cartridge thus depressing it on the primer resulting in "The one foot hoppity hood dance"
I hope this helps
Missaman