mall ninja thread

[Izistan]

"As I was leaving my house for the 7-11, I stuffed my Glock 10mm "man gun" Mexican style in my pants. My backup is a fully customized 1911 with all the IPSC add-on options in my $500.00 leather pancake holster custom made by Belgian Monks who have devoted their lives to silence and holster making. These are the ones used by Delta, which I used to be a part of but all records of my activities were destroyed in a fire "accident".

I put on my Royal Robbins photographer vest to match my pants while wearing a T-Shirt underneath reading "RANGER." That way, nobody can see what I'm packing. I had my Centennial .38 Special in my ankle holster, just like the gun rag guys carry. Lastly I had my "Covert Sniper" I.D. Card in my wallet with my "Concealed Weapons Permit Badge".

I was ready for anything.

I drove my "bug-out truck" to the 7-11 for some beer, 'cause you never know. It is a performance-styled Subaru BRAT with 4 cylinders of ground pounding fury.

I pull up to the 7-11 store and notice a nervous looking girl scout eyeballing me from the back of her mother's SUV. A likely cover. The mother returned to the truck and went for the keys in her purse, but I knew from my years of combat-honed instincts that she was actually making a furtive movement for an offensive weapon. I attempted a tactical shoulder roll, but fell flat on my face, kind of flopping on the pavement to avoid any incoming rounds and to make it look like I meant to do that.

The store owner called 911 which is good, because I then did a roll and attempted to draw my Glock. Unfortunately, since I did not have a holster, the gun "went off" and the bullet creased my wiener. But I was prepared for that and bit down on a 9mm casing to take my mind off the pain as I dove for the garbage barrel. That's when I noticed the girl scout shouting something to her mother who began to take cover. I knew they were closing on me so I drew my trusty custom 1911 Wilson COMBAT....I knew that they would be impressed with that.

I then duck walked to the front of her SUV but my gut kinda got in the way and I fell on my ass, which caused me to swallow my 9mm casing.

I then tried to roll to my right, but didn't want to scuff my holster, so I just threw myself into a telephone pole, but I landed on my right side anyway. So I fired one shot towards the woman's SUV to pin them down as I recovered my wind.

Before the mother knew what was happening, I charged her and I threw my groin into her knee. I knew that as I vomited on the ground in front of her that I had interrupted her OODA loop, and I had the advantage now. As she ran screaming for the Girl Scout (I knew she was going for backup) I made for my super-charged BRAT tactical truck.

I jumped into the driver seat, forgetting that I had left my rare Israeli contract AR 15 Bayonet on the seat (honed to a razors edge). I could handle it though; half my ass is an implant from war wounds. As I attempted to start my truck, police and paramedics arrived on the scene.

My truck would not start and instead backfired once and caused the police to taze me.

At this point, I tactically soiled myself while in convulsions. My custom 1911 then fell out the window, but I still had my Centennial .38. I knew then that I had to take out the woman with the purse. So I aimed my revolver at her, at which point the first police officer fired once striking me in the chest. Fortunately, I was wearing my level 3A body armor.

I didn't want to hurt the cops, they had obviously been duped by the evil temptress who was now embracing her partner in crime and crying to the police in the background - I knew it was a ruse. I pulled out my concealed weapons permit badge and showed it to the officer who shot me and yelled out "I'm one of you guys!!!" He continued to cover me, and ordered me to drop my 38 so I laid it down. After all, I still had my bayonet attached to my ass. The cop walked toward me, and upon reading the badge maced me right in the eyes.

Fortunately, my Oakley shooting glasses stopped most of the spray and I was able to rip free of the Taser cords easily. It only cost me one nipple...easily replaced. I dove for the passenger side of my truck and began to run zig zag for a ditch. Unfortunately, the bayonet sticking out of my ass slowed me down. I knew it would have to be hand-to-hand now.

I knew the cop couldn't take me when I saw he merely carried a Glock 17, not a man's gun. So I immediately threw my eye into his right hook, followed by a knee into his mag light. As I lay thrashing on the ground, I took the heel of my Bates enforcer boot and kicked at the cops ankle. I knew from my classified experiences in Tajikistan that once I broke his ankle, the cop would fall down and I could "stun kick" him in the head, knocking him out but not hurting him.

Apparently the cop had also been to Tajikistan, because he side stepped me and struck me in the back with his ASP baton, but my trauma plate absorbed it. I then drew my Benchmade auto knife and was promptly tased again, but I was ready for it this time and only wet myself a little bit. Next thing those cops knew, I was unconscious.

That'll teach 'em."

[Izistan]

Hello All.

I am new to this group; however I am not new to carrying. I have been carrying for awhile now. I have lived my entire life by the traditional Republican values (yes I said I am a Republican and damn proud of it!), the Boy Scout Motto of Be Prepared, and the motto Better to be judged by 12 than carried by 6.

I carry six guns. All of them are Glocks in .40 S&@ caliber with Night Sights and are bone stock except for some wolf springs. I carry 2 Glock 22s on my right and left hips in C-Tacs, 2 Glock 23s in my Alessi Bodyguard shoulder holster, 1 Glock 27 on my left ankle, and another Glock 27 in my right hand pocket. I also carry some folding knives. I carry 2 Chris Reeves folding knives, both of them are Sebenzas. I carry the small one in the left hand pocket of my 5.11 Tactical pants. I carry the larger one in the mag pocket on the right hand side with a Glock 22 magazine. I carry another 4 Glock 22 magazines behind the guns on my hips. I carry an extra magazine on a mag pouch on my right hip. I also carry a surefire E2E flashlight clipped onto my left hand pocket. You never know when you will need a light. I am going to be carrying 2 pairs of hand cuffs when I decide on a decent manufacturer and holster (suggestions are wanted). For my commo gear (I wasnt in the military but I adopted some of it into my everyday lingo through many CCW courses) I use a Nextel I560 phone in black (dont want to get the yellow one and give my reflection away in case some BG seems me in an alley) and I have a Pager with Skytel service. I also have a Zippo lighter in case I need to make a torch or something if stuck in a Hurricane Katrina situation. I also carry some OC spray (Fox labs if youre wondering)

I just wanted to share some of my experiences. I have been carrying a long time. I remember when I got my first permit. I felt ecstatic. It was an awesome responsibility I was ready to deal with. Not to mention I had been trained for it. I took an intensive CCW class that was several hours in length and have taken a few classes since then. I was like a Police Officer on his first shift. I was so happy that I had been granted the right to carry because there needs to be many more CCWers to help bring crime rates down. It is a heavy burden that we as Sheepdogs have to bear to protect the sheeple.

On my first day CCWing I went on patrol and walked around the entire neighborhood watching things with my hyper sense of awareness. Nobody but other CCWers understands what I am talking about. I walked through the neighborhood and I saw the illegal immigrants sitting on the stoop watching me with a keen eye. I suspect that they were intimidated by my presence (I am 61 and 325 lbs) with a 50 inch waist. I dont understand Spanish but they must have been talking about me.

As a side note, what does Gordo mean?

I continued walking and I saw some gangbangers. There were 4 urban youth (read black kids playing basketball with jerseys listening to crap music err I mean rap music) who were probably carrying illegally. They were talking on someones porch. They looked at me and started talking amongst themselves. One of them called me biggie (some sort of respect thing?) and I kept walking.

As I got further into town I realized I needed to recharge my batteries with some food. I got myself a burrito at the local store. It was being worked by illegals (they are everywhere arent they?) but they make some damn good burritos and nachos. I got a huge super burrito (the kind that are football size) and some nachos with extra cheese and jalapenos. A large soda would wash that down nicely. I brought my food to the table and then got up to fill my soda (it was a self serve soda fountain) when some illegal immigrant gangbanger drug dealers walked in. One of them looked at me and I knew I was in for some trouble. They were probably packing guns. Gangbangers always pack lorcins and hi-points and not quality tactical gear. I made eye contact to let them know that I am hyper aware and that they will not be getting past me should something go down. Those stupid illegal immigrant gangbangers would regret messing with me.

Sure enough they called me a racist name. (Only white people can be racist, stupid racist illegal loving liberals!). I ignored it because I never start trouble when I am CCWing. I just waited in line for the soda machine when one of them pushed me. He wasnt strong enough to push my 345 lb frame. I told him not to touch me and took a defensive posture. I read about it on some tactical forums. Its one Navy SEALs use when going into close quarters combat. (I am not a SEAL or a veteran but I train just as hard with my CCW.) My CCW instructor approved of it and I told the illegal scumbag gangbanger that I would use force to defend myself and my family (who were not there, they dont patrol the neighborhood with me) if he should continue his attack.

They laughed and pushed me again. I pushed back. I threw my weight into it and pushed him into some tables. His other stupid Mexican illegal immigrant friend started saying something in Spanish and he put his hand into his pocket. I reached for the Glock 22 on my right hip and drew. The illegal immigrant took his hand out of his pocket and I told him to get down on the ground. Then I told his buddies to do the same thing. I then proceeded to handcuff the one who pushed me and the bigger of the other two. I then put on some Hatch Cooltac gloves and searched them. All of the employees in the store and the customers started clapping and cheering for me.

Bu not one to neglect my civic duty I had to keep a close eye and my Glock on the other one until my backup arrived. The responding officers came in with their guns drawn and ready to do some wet work. I laughed as once they saw me they put their guns away and I holstered mine. They proceeded to laugh once they saw I had the situation under complete control. They asked my advice on guns and we talked. I told them how I considered law enforcement at one point but I felt the job wasnt my forte. They didnt cuff me or anything and just took a statement. One of them even offered to buy me lunch and I got the number of one of the female officers who responded to the man with a gun call. When will the liberal anti-gunners learn that people like me are able to handle ourselves and act as sheepdogs for them (the sheeple)? Anyway we are going to the range and I am going to show her how to shoot. She also expressed getting her CCW permit. Luckily I have a lot of training and know a lot of people so she will probably taking a class where she will learn to think tactically.

After about 10 minutes of questioning from the cops I was ready to hit the streets again. I continued to walk down the street and check the neighborhood out. I decided that I should probably check the local Dunkin Donuts / Baskin Robbins out. I wanted to stop and rest my tired feet but as a civic minded CCWer I would not shirk my god given responsibilities to protect the neighborhood. I went in and got myself an extra large Peanut Butter and Chocolate malt. As I waited for the ******* to make my malt I noticed one of the officers I saw at the burrito shop. He nodded at me and I sat down at the table next to him. He told me what a good job I did and how much he loved responsible CCWers. I told him that it was just the training from my CCW classes. The whole You default to your level of training thing. He was very impressed and said I would make a fine tac-officer (SWAT for all you non-LEO types). Then he offered to pay for my malt as the ******* guy who worked there called out my order.

That was just one of my many forays into the streets. What made it unique was that it was my first day CCWing. Since then I have become an old hand when it comes to CCWing. I just wanted to share what my first day was like.

[Allanea]

My wife and I have taken the plunge and are planning to spend a full week at Forest Hills Nudist Resort this summer. We've been to nudist camps twice before, but never overnight. Since these previous trips were to beaches, my concealed carry technique for those situations was to keep my Makarov in a Ziploc bag inside our cooler. This summer's trip, however will include volleyball, pot-luck dinners, and dances. My cooler can't be within arm's reach in those situations. I need some advice. I've become so used to my CCW, I can't imagine being unarmed. Here are my options, as I see them:

1) Go unarmed, because nudists are generally real nice folks.

2) Carry around a leather satchel or man-purse. With a shoulder strap, of course.

3) This one's kind of hard to explain. My wife and I are into a rather unusual type of entertainment, and I've discovered that normal duct tape adheres very well to human skin. You should also know that I'm quite overweight, bordering on obese. In a flash of revelation one fine morning, I realized that one of the advantages of being rotund is that I'm able to conceal a NAA mini-revolver between the two largest rolls of my belly. A bit of duct tape holds it in place. Its completely invisible when I'm standing or sitting upright. It does show a bit when I recline or lie down, however.


Other than those three choices, I'm stumped. Any suggestions?

[Bloody_Sahara]

teh fuck

[CuriousCatgirl]

"hello friends,

Last year I made the decision to trust my life on the street to Second Chance body armor. I got the level IIa because it stops the most rounds. plus I got the Trauma Plate for the front.

What scares me is that, although I can fit an extra trauma plate in the front, I cannot fit a second one in back. As of late I have taken to duct-taping a second trauma plate to the area of my back where the heart and vital organs are located. Then I put my vest on.

Here is the questions. The ducttape solution, although tactically sound, is hot and painful to remove. I would like to go to the single-plate solution in back. What I am worried about is repeated hits to that area with .308 ammunition. I have a high-risk security job and I fear that I would be the target for repeated long-distance shots to my back.

Are any of you aware of a thicker plate that could stop, say, .338 Lapua or something like that? Is there a better way to do the second plate?

BTW, I am, of course, usually carrying a pair of ceramic plates in my briefcase so that I can shield my head. My SO (we work as a team when necessary) has a similar accessory containing a breakdown NEF single-shot 300 WinMag with an 18" bbl. The plan is that I shield us with my body and “catch the rounds” while she assembles the NEF. I lay down covering fire with my 23 (Bar-Sto .357 Sig barrel) and she makes the long shots. I will then throw smoke grenades to obscure the area while continuing to lay covering fire. The problem, of course, is when I have to turn my back to run, and then the problem crops up.

Thanks!"

[Satirius]

I do not understand the “joke” or the “Rambo.” I am in a high-risk job. It is not the Mall of America, but Ill tell you what its no podunk mall either.I am a responsible citizen who has made the choice to carry at all times. I defend others. If something happens at the Mall then I would be the hero, not those of you who are making fun of me for no reason. Yes Im not a Green Beret but guess what neither are you and unlike you I have to face unruly shoppers every day.My REAL problem is that, like any LEO, I have enemies because of my job. They may have access to high-powered rifles. My job starts and ends at the same time every day. Although I use four rotating routes to drive to and from work, I am still vulnerable during the walk to and from my car. This is the time that I load up on the trauma plates because I DO NOT WANT TO BE SHOT DEAD!Also, someone said that my Tac Team doesn’t get training. Not true. We meet at the range every night and shoot 400 rounds each through weapons that closely resemble our duty setup. We also practice unarmed combat. I am a Master of three martial arts including ninjitsu, which means I can wear the special boots to climb walls. I don’t think any of you are working as hard as I am to be prepared. I asked a serious question about tactical armor and I wanted a serious response. If you want to laugh at somebody, try laughing at the sheep out there who go to the mall unarmed trusting in me to stand guiard over their lives like a God.

[CuriousCatgirl]

"Well, I did learn a lot from that particular operator. I studied his tactics in depth. In a way you could call him my mentor.

I enjoyed the seminar a lot, but didn’t actually learn anything new and unique. Those young SOCOM types just don’t know what it’s really like.

As far as the heat we’ve been catching from these chairborne ranger types, I think it is for two reasons: first they are jealous of our experiences, and that we get to actually use the guns that they beat-off to nightly (pictures of the guns, because they aren’t old enough to own the real things). Second they don’t understand the dangers we are faced with every day, protecting their asses.

Back when I was working inventory loss prevention, we dealt mostly against gang members and other assorted thugs. People don’t realize the sort of gear these guys are packing. Gone are the days of gangbangers armed with chrome Lorcin .25s and tec 9s. A lot of these kids are sporting Glocks in 10mm and .357, some USPs, Sigs, and an occasional Desert Eagle in .50AE. Usually they are wearing at least level IIA concealible vests. Long arms range from AKs to AR15s, the usual shotguns and some long-range stuff. Ran into one with a Rem700p in 300 win-mag with a Leupold Mk4 sitting on top of it.

Some of these kids have been enlisting to get the military training and they go AWOL and teach the other punks what they’ve learned, especially CQB and MOUT. Hell, I’ve run into a share of amature “gunsmiths.” One kid had a SKS modified for FA and it was cut down to a Krinkov like-carbine length with a folding stock. Another had Rem1100 modified to fire in FA and modified to accept a 20rd drum from a USAS12.

Now that I work mainly in corporate security, you wouldn’t believe the gear these corp. espionage types use. Temp. controlled level IV suits to beat the heat sensors, PVS14 goggles, MP5K-N PDWs with KAC cans, I could go on and on about those guys"

[Franberry]

Listen, I don’t expect you civilians to understand the situation. But bear with me and I’ll see if I can pound it into you soft skulls.With the decay of society and the rotting away of the moral fiber of our country this world is getting more and more dangerous and down right mean. Who do you think protects you from the scum of this society??? The cops, the FBI, the army???Guess again, it’s the guys guarding your companies, your banks, your schools, your homes, your supermarkets, and yes smartass, even your malls. What good are the cops going to be if a shooter shows up at your workplace??? How about your kid’s school, remember Columbine? I’ll tell you what the cops will do, call the SWAT team and screw around trying to locate the front door for 30 minutes, while you or your children are shot down like prairie dogs at a drunken machinegun shoot.We are on site, when the cops are cruising around handing out speeding tickets or harrassing prostitutes. We risk our lives so you can go home to mommy at the end of the day and this is the respect we get??? Hell, I’d call some of us “heroes”, but I’m sure most of you juveniles don’t understand the meaning of such a Distinguished word.So go play Rainbow Six and frag some “tangos”, and tell your mommy to bring you some milk and cookies. Meanwhile, my ass is one the line so your fat butt can go to the mall and pick up the latest copy of “Computer Gaming Monthly” without getting jumped and sodomized in the mall bathroom.Stay safe Gecko45! I got your back brother!

[Izistan]

The harmful effects of cannabis

The year was 1960, a young girl was sitting on her porch doing schoolwork and generally loving her life, without a care in her head about tomorrow. With a great ruckus and a cloud of dust, a great tye dye van came shambling down the dirt road and pulled outside her tiny one room house.
from the van six black men stepped out, dressed in flamboyant and rediculous attire and smelling of pungent and exotic scents foreign to her. the first one from the van, a twenty something african fellow with a broad nose, wild hair and a prominent brow greeted the girl with a bright smile and with an outstretched arm, offered a marijuana cigarette to her!
the girl, who had never even seen hard drugs in person, was scared, and ran inside to tell her father, who came out with a shotgun and killed all five of the men where they stood with a series of BLAM, click, BLAM, click, BLAM, click, BLAM, click, BLAM, click, BLAM! even going so far to shoot off their hands so they could not abuse drugs in hell.
the girl went back to her studes, and completed her schooling, after which she married a man and had a child, that child was me.

I was repeatedly warned by my mother not to try dope, as she called it. she warned me that dope would make me go crazy, that it would dull all my senses and leave me a withered husk of my current self. But, being an unruly youth of the computer age, i didnt believe a word of it- but i do now. On the schoolyard a few weeks ago, a shady fellow I had not before seen approached me and asked if he might ask the time.
I cautiously pulled up my sleve to reveal my beaten steel watch, and with a glance he said "thank ya kindly son", then pulled a strange cigarette from his pocket and began to puff away. I went back to class, but i felt strange- I dont know what was going over me, I had the sudden urge to go to the bathroom, and so there i went. In the bathroom, i saw grotesque things, disembodied children, swirling colors, hippies everywhere, a democratic president, and the blood-
it was everywhere. I ran out of the building, and in a dizzy blur found my way to my house. I walked up the polished oak stairs to my bedroom, where i found three police officers and a vicious canine unit, all staring at me. I had been caught! Unfortunately, I was not thinking clearly, and turned to run, but one of the officers grabbed my shoulder and tazed me for eleven seconds.
I fell to the ground, where apparently his dog had his way with my limp body. I woke up in prison, next to an old man named Willy Jenkins, who was in for rape. In the corner of the cell, there was a mean looking black man, who was apparently in for double murder. I was afraid of him, but when he asked my crime, and i said "I second hand smoked a marijuana cigarette!" he sprung back into his corner quickly, shouting, "MAN DONT GIVE ME AIDS OR NONE OF THAT SHIT MAN".
The other inmates didnt say a word to me for a good week, until one day the guard on duty, while urinating on us, told me it was my time to be sent to trial, and with just a love tap or two pulled me out of the cell by my hair and threw me in the back of their jail-rape-funtime-bus, as it was lovingly called by willy. I blacked out for a while, but came to with the sun bright in my eyes. with a groggy yawn i sat up, noticing i was wet. Upon a cursory glance of my hands and clothing
i was completely covered in blood. I slid out of the open back-door of the vehicle and saw the bodies of not two but three state troopers lying on the road, covered in bloody vomit. I had apparently given them aids, which i contracted from the used marijuana.
I ran home as fast as I could, but in my hazy state inadvertently ran into traffic, and was almost struck by a bus. I barely survived the incident, and made it home but fifteen minutes before i was to leave for school- I threw together the best paper I could in the timeframe, but in the altered state, it was not up to the standards expected of me.

I have truely learned my lesson- that marijuana isn't so harmless after all!

[Wolohanistan]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecutCdEQ3r4&feature=feedf