#ando-pr

[andopr]

2014 IN REVIEW: Mount Eerie On... Rolling Coal, Martial Arts, Waterskiing, Ponies and More

1. Anyone who knows me—and no, I don’t mean people who write me emails saying they “love” my music (note to self: who cares!); I’m talking true friends like my hunting buddies and my sensei Wuz—knows that I’ve been into rolling coal before it became a thing this year. Obviously it wasn’t even widely called that until very recently and I have mixed feeling about it becoming some go-to Tea Party fad. (For the record, when it comes to the Pauls, I’m way more of a Rand fan than a Ron one, but barely.)  Anyway, I first got into under-aspirated exhaust output probably six or seven years ago after a botched festival run. I was overplayed, underpaid, and seldom laid (not counting oral or whatever; obviously I got some tail but not straight sex) and needed a serious pick me up. The phone calls were coming pretty hot from my licensing guy, Derien. This guy won’t be picking up any awards for World’s Most Savvy CPA anytime soon. He’s a complete ass munch, but knows his away around 401(c)3 loopholes like a mother-scratcher. And, honestly, this time the pills weren’t making them—or him—go away. (Full disclosure: In April of 2006, I shifted away from Klonopin to a Demerol-Darvocet blend and, $6800 worth of property damage to a GameStop—charges remain “pending,” I’m supposed to add—later, it was made apparent that the switch was NOT working for me.)  So where does a burnt out, opiated, horny-as-shit “indie rock” (I hate that term, BTW) star find himself when the rope gets thin? Well, when the dust settled I found myself removing particulate filters from my cousin-in-law’s Isuzus. We used to burn pretty hard around Cincinnati, mostly up north in the Carthage, Roselawn, and Hartwell neighborhoods. I’m not one for metaphor. (Have you tried actually sitting down and reading my lyrics? No thanks!) But at the time it felt like those ominous plumes of black smoke had something to do with my career arc and what I “needed to do.” It was a dark time.

2. I got even deeper into Silat this year. I’ve been practicing on and off for nearly a third of my adult life, but decided to commit in 2014. FYI: Malaysian martial arts are not like riding a bike, and it took about 30 seconds to realize my jurus were weak at best and potentially dangerous at worst. Even at the height of my obsession, I was never big on freeform tari; all that chi-sao-style sensitivity training just seemed, well, too sensitive for me. I don’t know about you, but I feel most alive when I’m in my kekuda and going nucking futs with a kris or parang. Maybe that’s just me, and it probably doesn’t help my mindset that I grew up going to a place called Steve’s Violent Karate.  Anyway, to quote Cartman, I am what I am. Fighting is two parts strength conditioning, one part ego, and a buttload of rage. Quick story: I was working on my new album Sauna (this is in post, which we did in Colorado Springs) and just couldn’t get this one bass part to quantize right. I was royally pissed and needed something to take my mind off it. On a whim I found this amateur mixed martial event (think UFC without the claws) and yanked a few chains to get rostered. Totally got wrecked early, but it cleansed me. In the end it didn’t matter as we subbed the bass part out for some turntable work.

3. 2014 was kind of the year of commitment for me in a lot of ways. (And if you think I’m going to talk about the stint I did in Kirkland at Fairfax for “behavioral health needs,” you best check yourself. Number one: It was blown way out of proportion on Pitchfork; they said I was in for a week when it was no more than five days TOPS. And number two: Even if I WANTED to—which, surprise surprise, I DON’T—I’m on gag order, per King County.  No, I’m talking about ink. I’ve had a few tattoos over the years. Nothing to squirt over; I did the barbed wire thing on my left bicep when I turned 18 and the next year got the Deicide logo on my lower belly (just below navel). This year, though, I upped my body art game substantially. My wife’s best friend draws in Redding so we both went down a few times to get worked on. I’m roughly 40-percent done with a sleeve that incorporates Neo-Druidist and Celtic Reconstructionist imagery: ogham, runes, coins, etc. I also got the Joe Boxer smiley logo. (Don’t ask.)

4. Another highlight of this year was finally dropping trou and getting sack deep into the horse game. Not to completely throw my music under the bus but as you’ve probably noticed it’s not exactly priority numero uno anymore. So when I got the opportunity to buy major stakes of a few training thoroughbreds out of Remington Park in OKC, well, I jumped at it. It’s not like we’re naively gunning for Windsor or Epsom, but my team took enough minor purses this year to wet my stick in a pretty major way. What’s exciting is that we’re not limiting ourselves to flat racing. A few of our ponies are steeplechasers and I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilling it is to consider National Hunt competitions. My primary jockey is a Flemish cat who came out of the Ostend scene; can’t speak a lick of English but jeepers crackers can that son of a gun ride. Can you tell I’m a little obsessed? LOL.

5. I’ve been saving this one for last. After the doc cleared my knee surgery in February, summer couldn’t come soon enough. And for me, that means waterskiing. Hard. I don’t think it’s compromising jack to tell you I reissued my back catalog almost exclusively (save for some random booking debts on the World’s Cup; that’s a different article altogether) to pay for my Malibu Response TXi. I used to have a Nautique that just chewed and it was essentially a dream come true to trade up. And I mean way up. My TXi is a beast. Tournament grade? Check. Indmar Monsoon engine? Check. Great pull? Um, YEAH you could say that. The tracking on this thing is nasty and the visibility is just insane. I was slicing wake 24/7 from June to early September. My band was pissed because we turned down two or three bigger summer gigs but they can eat it. As music becomes less and less a part of my life, it’s inspiring to find new hobbies and goals to fill that vacuum.

[andopr]

$385 ALL UTIL. INCLUDED!!! THIS IS THE ONE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! GORGEOUS 10 x 14 BEDROOM, DRENCHED WITH LOTS OF AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT, GENEROUS CLOSET SPACE, CLEAN BATHROOM, NICE COMMON SPACE AND STORAGE. W/D IN BASEMENT (COIN-OP ALTHOUGH LANDLORD IS IN PROCESS OF MAKING IT FREE!) AND ELEC/COOKING GAS/HI-SPEED INTERNET/TRASH PICK-UP INCLUDED IN RENT. STREET PARKING. CLOSE TO HOSPITALS AND SOME SHOPPING LIVE WITH TWO QUIET ROOMMATES BOTH STUDENTS (ONE INTERNATIONAL) NO DRINKING/DRUGS, CALM LIVING ENVIRONMENT FOR RIGHT INDIVIDUAL WITH REGULAR HOURS THERE IS ONE SMALL CATCH THAT HAS NOT BEEN A PROBLEM AT ALL WITH PREVIOUS TENANTS. BEDROOM MUST BE SHARED WITH APPROX. 700 LB. ADULT MALE SILVERBACK GORILLA. THIS IS AN EASTERN LOWLAND GORILLA WHO IS FAIRLY DOCILE ALTHOUGH HE DOES NEED TO "STRETCH HIS LEGS" FROM TIME TO TIME. HE FEEDS ON FRUITS AND LEAVES AND HAS SOMEWHAT OF AN INTENSE SEXUAL APPETITE. BIG KITCHEN WITH BREAKFAST AREA. BEDROOM WINDOWS FACE REAR COURTYARD NO TRAFFIC NOISE! SOMEWHAT LOW CEILINGS BUT GUT RENOVATED WITH HARDWOOD FLOORS AND ORIGINAL MOLDINGS. NOT RAILROAD! SEPARATE ROOMS WITH TWO ENTRANCES. SECOND FLOOR WALK-UP. YEAR LEASE REQUIRED. FIRST AND LAST PLUS SECURITY. TOTAL OF $1155 MOVE-IN COST. THIS WILL NOT LAST. NO BROKERS PLEASE.

[andopr]

FACTUAL REPORT ON THE STOCK MARKET

The Stocked--or less commonly “Stock”--Market is a beguiling, admirable venture into commerce, semi-legalized gambling and crude agrarian trade; while North and Central America’s involvement has been hesitatingly limited to the very late-1970s and beyond, the global history of this tepid economic phenomenon can be traced to the dawn of civilization, if, of course, the “dawn of civilization” can be limited to the mid-800s, which this hastily composed essay brazenly presupposes it most certainly can. Ninth-century Siam was a sensual hotbed of pagan graffiti feuds, forced snake breeding, and a primitive form of money laundering, pronounced—harshly and with raw, guttural force—as “htelkk ke.” This bewildering system of stacking brine-soaked rice patties into multi-tiered levels of six, then eleven, then two, and exchanging the inedible, water-logged “cakes” for coarse rope, swords, and physically blinding spices may defy contemporary logic, but—in reluctant essence—fundamentally laid the first metaphorical cobblestone of Wall Street. Prussian explorers of centuries to follow began studying these bartering policies keenly, their initial barbaric, almost monstrous desire of enslavement and unfiltered sexual conquest slowly yet gracefully transitioning into an academic appreciation for the far east’s clement efficiency as regarded fiduciary transaction. Adapting the childlike system of layered grain pancakes to include thin slices of pork and, by 1170, bronze coins, Europe was intoxicated with its new venture, despite the fact that literally no one had access to the prerequisite capital necessary to participate in this complicated and often misleading process. This would change dramatically in 1501, when Antonio Geyoso Columbus—Christopher’s older and more weird-seeming brother—would sail his own ship--the Senora Bella--to North America with the largely questionable intent of enforcing a misguided sect of socio-economic discipline rooted in dark Oriental folklore. Surprising to all—except, perhaps, his dutiful, subjugated crew—Antonio’s principles were embraced quickly and warmly by the Narragansett and Penobscot tribes he first encountered on the eastern coast of “Volto Antonio”—“Antonio’s Face” as he tirelessly referred to the continent, time and time again, in recovered journal entries. Unbeknownst to him, these indigenous peoples were simply misunderstanding his monetary tutelage for prayer and “thunder song,” a popular pseudo-religious ceremony that coincidentally involved many of the same troubling pelvic thrusts and hand-to-elbow swipes that the zealous Columbus employed in his quad-nightly workshops. Regardless of an ever-mounting confusion and inner-lodge tension that would eventually lead to Antonio himself being raped and eaten by a whale, the Old World’s ways were beginning to slyly infiltrate themselves into the New, and the organized exchange of goods and services would never again be the same. Today, the North American Stocked Market, or N.O.A.A.M.E.R.S.M.R.K., as it is liberally abbreviated, contrarily restricts itself to matters of legal tender; dollars, “cents” and the occasional Colombian emerald are the limited extent of NASM’s influence. Ideally, the future will see this untapped platform branching into home-lives of the proletariat in far-reaching and menacing ways. One can delightfully envision a talon-like, Orwellian grip that both shapes and distorts the social, the political and the deeply, embarrassingly personal.

[andopr]

[andopr]

Count Chocula history

Count Chocula is a member of the line of monster-themed breakfast cereals produced by General Mills. It contains chocolate-flavoured corn cereal bits and marshmallows. Count Chocula is the cereal’s mascot, whose name is a pun on the vampire Count Dracula. Instead of craving blood like Dracula, Chocula craves Count Chocula breakfast cereal. In 1971, the first two cereals in the line were introduced, the still-available Count Chocula and Franken Berry. Boo Berry, a pun on blueberry, was released two years later, in 1973, and Fruit Brute came in 1974, only to be discontinued in 1983. General Mills tried replacing Fruit Brute with Yummy Mummy in 1988, but that too had a short shelf life when it was ended in 1993. The latter two are no longer sold in retail stores. Ernst Choukula was born the third child to Estonian landowers in the late autumn of 1873. His parents, Ivan and Brushken Choukula, were well-established traders of Baltic grain who-- by the early twentieth century--had established a monopolistic hold on the export markets of Lithuania, Latvia and southern Finland. A clever child, Ernst advanced quickly through secondary schooling and, at the age of nineteen, was managing one of six Talinn-area farms, along with his father, and older brother, Grinsh. By twenty-four, he appeared in his first “barrelled cereal” endorsement, as the Choukula family debuted “Ernst Choukula’s Golden Wheat Muesli”, a packaged mix that was intended for horses, mules, and the hospital ridden. Belarussian immigrant silo-tenders started cutting the product with vodka, creating a crude mush-paste they called “gruhll” or “gruell,” and would eat the concoction each morning before work. The trend unwittingly spread, with alcohol being replaced by sheep--and then cow’s--milk, and the demand for the Choukula’s “cereal” reached as far south as Poland and as far west as the northern Jutland province of Denmark. It wasn’t long before the unmistakable image (the original packaging, a three gallon wooden vat which featured a burnt etching of a jubilant, overalled Ernst holding a large dog and grinning broadly) made a pop-cultural splash throughout the entirety of Europe and northern Africa. In fact, Tunisia’s “Carthagian Sand Crunch” was seen as the first imitation of the Choukula form; the aforementioned product was presented in broad leathern bags with the woven insignia of a nude tribesman holding a sword and a bunched stalk of oats. Sadly, this would neither be the first nor the tamest appropriation of Ernst’s iconic visage. Meanwhile, in the “textile paradise”-region of Schenectady / Elmira New York, General Peter Mills--a celebrated turret gunner in McKinley’s navy--was first beginning to mine America’s seemingly insatiable desire to consume food before high noon. The trend, initially known in the United States as “brekkfest” had first appeared in 1903, with Dominic Eggo’s invention of “wassled” or “waffled” bread, and really picked up steam throughout the teens and twenties, when eating in the morning was no longer deemed a sin by the Anglo-Catholic church. News of Choukula’s economic domination across the Atlantic fascinated and troubled Mills, who was eager for similar success. In 1927, while vacationing the Iberian peninsula, he first encountered three discarded barrels of “Duke Choukula’s Animal Supplement” (the name and design of the product had undergone several makeovers throughout the previous seven years, the most recent of which featured Ernst dressed in a cape and tiara, reflecting his family’s oft-disputed ties to Eurasian royalty). Immediately intrigued, Mills brought one with him on his boat ride back to the States, and spent the twenty-three day trip obsessively studying the packaging. In the spring of 1929, General Mills’ “Prince Chocula’s Morning Digestive” was picked up for distribution in three dozen pharmacies, grocery stands and agrarian carts throughout New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and northern Maryland. The public response was confused and angered at the recipe’s savory, clove-like sting; apparently a confusion over the name led many to believe the breakfast was made from chocolate, and by 1931 the formula had been updated to reflect the nation’s collective sweet tooth. In 1932, boxes were labeled simply “Count Chocula’s Chocolate Food” and Peter Mills was named Life Magazine’s “Humanitarian of the Year, 1933”. Ernst Chocula died in a Ukrainian cabin, penniless and alone, having descended into a type of brain-madness.

[pwelverumandsun]

Mount Eerie's questionable answers in Under The Radar magazine #44, end of 2012

1.) What were your Top 10 Albums released in 2012? Please list them in order of preference, from first to last, and also feel free to write 1-3 sentences on each album. This probably isn't the answer you're looking for, but to be honest I didn't listen to a heck of a lot of music this year. Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely by choice. I spent most of April helping a buddy customize his Silverado. If you know me, you know I've never been much of a truck guy; they can't do jack on the highway, and if I want the payload, that's what my Bobcat is for. Hell, get a Gator and you're essentially set, with maybe a quarter of the upkeep and maintenance. That said, this guy's actually my sister's ex-fiancee, and even though it wasn't in the cards for them, we've remained decent friends. Honestly, he (Scott)--who I've known since high school--has never had a ton of work ethic, and I figured giving him a hand was a win-win; I have a couple Polaris machines in storage for the winter that I've been dragging my feet on modding, and this Chevy gig seemed like a good opportunity to dust off the Ryobi. Little did I know, at the time, that I would have been better off keeping her in the garage. As a result of some pretty unrelenting impact wrench work, I've sustained substantial sensorineaural hearing loss. My wife and I have been talking with specialists at HSDC and UW Medical Center; for the time being, it is what it is. Of course, Scott felt terrible and has been trying to kick down whatever he can for clinical visits, etc. Let's put it in perspective, though: this guy works three and a half shifts a week (tops), out back at Lowe's. Obviously, he has to look out for his new lady and their one-year-old and I get that. And I'm happy to own most of the responsibility anyway. I was going through my own stuff at the time (fairly textbook "royalties vs. studio debt" stuff, which my wife was riding my ass pretty hard on) and was drinking heavily during the project. I definitely could have been more on top of it with ear protection, scheduled breaks, and whatnot. At this point we're just taking it one day at a time and scrambling to figure out what this means for touring in 2013. 2.) What was the highlight of, 2012 for either you personally or for the band? My wife and I welcomed our second into this world. James Lee was born on August 18. It was a mixed bag, emotionally. I don't think it's compromising too much to tell you there were some paternity questions. My wife and I had been separated for most of 2011 and she was pretty upfront with the fact that she had been seeing other men regularly. I'm not an overwhelmingly jealous person but that's tough to hear, you know? At the same time, I was no saint, and I'm not just talking about tapping on the road. Obviously there was some of that--not at all like it used to be in my twenties (Kozelek has that new song about how all his hot female fans have been replaced by nerdy thirty-something dudes, and as much shit as he took for that--maybe deservedly so, depending on your point of view--there's a lot of truth in that assessment) but I would definitely be hooking up (usually not full sex) every second or third night of the fall trip. Anyway, we ended up reconciling right around Christmas. It's been rough, not knowing, but in a way it doesn't matter. I'm in a committed partnership and we're both--at this point--dedicated to raising this family together. 3.) What was the low point of 2012 for you? I was disappointed in a lot of the live gigs. At the level I'm working at, there are so many pieces in play, and some nights they just didn't sync. The music end of it was largely fine. For the past couple tours, actually, I've been "stealing" most of Mraz's band (well, for the last one it was just Noel Rivera on percussion and Bruce Hughes on bass, rounded out by some local friends on drums and lead guitar); Jason and I have been friends for the past five or six years--we met at Bumbershoot and I helped demo Love Is a Four Letter Word. There was a little tension when he scrapped our stuff but then ended up using some of my keyboard ideas in the final mix, but that's mostly water under the bridge now. Point being, the band was great, technically. Unfortunately, you could have Ed Winter backing you up and if the sound is shit, the sound is shit. The venues we played had some almost unbelievably outdated gear. It was a drag. We had rehearsed our butts off and to not get that payoff in the moment is pretty draining, especially when it's happening night after night. I don't know. I don't want to come off as negative. The money was decent, but then you get into issues of top-shelf fees, etc. which is boring--and frustrating-- for me to think about, let alone your readers. 4.) What are your hopes and plans for 2013? I don't want to let the cat out of the bag prematurely, but there might be an emphasized sea change in how I relate to music. It's not a secret--at least not in the northwest--that I've partnered on a restaurant in Ballard. Nothing that's going to set the world on fire, but above average surf and turf that your average middle- to upper-middle class couple can actually afford. Honestly, I haven't been incredibly involved since I joined in mid-2009, but that's exactly where there's room to grow. Most recently I've been giving my "two cents" on seasonal specials and menu layout--typical bullshit, from-the-top-down calls that mean squat to the board. At the same time, it's way, way more hands on than I've ever been. Point being, I would not be entirely surprised if two, three years from now this is where 90% of my creative and professional energies sit.   5.) To what extent did the poor world economy affect your ability to make a reasonable living as an artist in 2012?   We were solvent. The deck definitely got shuffled, though. A couple overseas appearances were shelved and one domestic leg was postponed. At the same time, I saw an uptick in a few film placements, so go figure. And, Christ, I know it's blasphemy, especially in the wake of Lowery's rant, but I've been a huge supporter of sites like Pandora and Spotify from day one. This might date me, but I was pro-Soulseek, too, for what it's worth. Am I seeing huge online dividends? Obviously not. But by currying favor with these sites, I'm putting myself in a position to remain afloat when the industry final Titanics once and for all. It's coming, that's for sure.   6.) What are your thoughts on the 2012 U.S. presidential election? I think Rock nailed it in that recent New Yorker profile. Here's a guy from Detroit, hip hop, etc. Different worlds, sure. But his point about bringing himself up, making a little coin in the game, and how he now wants to make sure that paper's protected...I don't know. It made sense. And I think you'll find a lot of legitimate artists--and no I'm not talking One Direction, Mumford and Sons, Radiohead, Taylor Swift bullshit--who were in the same camp, backing Romney. Sure, maybe they didn't have the chance (or wouldn't have, if they had) to come out like Rock and back Romney in some liberal rag, but believe me, they're out there. What happened happened and that's fine--politics don't come into my life as often as you might think on a day to day basis.   7.) Steve Albini criticized Amanda Palmer for recruiting musicians to play in her backing band for free. Was he right to do this and was Palmer right to change her mind and pay her musicians?   Why does Steve Albini care what Amanda Palmer does? I certainly don't, and for the record I have never once paid my musicians. It's ridiculous. I thought the reason we all lived in America was to have the freedom to live the way we wanted to live. I know for one thing that my cousin David did not bomb Kosovo so that Steve Albini could write a P.O.S. blog about who should and shouldn't pay who. It's ridiculous. 8.) What pop culture phenomenon from 2012 would you most like to erase from your memory?   I know I'm a little behind the eight ball on this, but I recently saw that "Throw it on the ground" skit from Saturday Night Live. Oh my God, that is just so fucking annoying. 9.) Were you affected by Hurricane Sandy? Do you think that climate change was partly responsible for the hurricane? I lease a boat slip in southern Connecticut / Long Island Sound area that was roughed up a little, but other than that I was fine. Climate change is kind of one of those "don't go there" discussions for me, so I think I'll plead the fifth. :)   10.) Tell us about the most memorable fan encounter you had this year. If it's OK to talk about last year, I would definitely have to say this girl Kris that I met in Richmond. It's funny because Bruce was actually flirting with her after soundcheck (she worked at the venue) and said something backstage about it. As it turned out, he got some deal going where a buddy of his from Annapolis had driven down with a couple high-end remote control helicopters (I know that sounds stupid or immature or whatever but they were actually a lot of fun and could go really, really fast) so they got into that behind an abandoned FedEx parking structure. Kris was still hanging around, though, so I asked her if she wanted to get some food. Of course--oh the joys of touring--there was nothing open after the gig so we bought a couple sodas from CVS and just walked around 14th Street and Shockoe Slip. I was at a pretty low point with some debt stuff and I can remember how amazing it felt to just talk about it with someone who seemed to not only care but "get it." We ended up sleeping together later and hooking up again in the morning. I had plans to go back in January but that was right around the time my wife and I were patching things up and trying to move forward together.   11.) What were some of the rejected names for your band? Well, I'm guessing you know that originally the band was called Microphones. I can't remember any of the other ideas I had. For some reason I want to say Fun House, but I'm pretty sure that was the name I was going to call this improv group I was trying to get off the ground with some friends at Evergreen. This was a long time ago, when I was splitting time between music and theater. Obviously I was studying, too (and working part-time at the student bookstore), but what I mean is that my "artistic" pursuits were multifaceted. This is crazy to think about, but a lot of my first "songs" were pieces I had put together for drama stuff we were working on in and around Olympia.   12.) Tell us about your first kiss.   This will be a disappointment, I'm sure, because it's definitely not sexy or whatever. I was seventeen and spending the summer in a place called Guemes. It's a small island in Skagit County, just north of Anacortes, where I grew up. I was helping a friend of my uncle, who was building a three-season cabin. I don't want to print his name; I'll just call him Jeff for the purposes of telling the story. Jeff's daughter--again, not her real name, but for privacy, etc. I'll refer to her as Kate--was hanging around with some of her friends from Western. I think she had just finished her freshman or sophomore year there. Her boyfriend of the time (I think they were together) ended up getting me into a lot of cool music and even took me and my younger brother to our first concert (Jane's Addiction) in Seattle. Anyway, I totally had a thing for Kate but, like I said, she was hanging out with this other guy. And he was cool, too, which made it even more difficult. So, as you can imagine, nothing happened with her, but another one of her friends--who was not as cool as Kate, but still pretty cool--kind of had a thing for me and we ended up hooking up one night. It was not much, mostly just kissing and I tried to finger her a little (obviously I had no idea what I was doing) but that was it.   13.) Would you survive a zombie apocalypse? Explain.   I know it's a joke question--and I hope it goes without saying that I don't believe in zombies, etc.--but I am actually pretty well outfitted for whatever shit comes our way in the next ten to fifteen years. My dad helped me turn this shed on my property (the former owners had a pottery studio in there) into a decent survival shelter of sorts. It doesn't hurt that my wife's always been pretty OCD about having extra canned goods and water on hand (it's funny that you mention Sandy, because even though we were, what, 3,000 miles away, my wife was still freaking out about it) so we're set on that end. In terms of arms, I'm laced up. I don't know if you can print this so if you need to cut it I won't be offended, but for any fellow Ditto-heads out there who are interested, this is my basic "fiver" set up: Remington 870 12ga 18'' 7-Round, 200 Rounds of 00 Buckshot, 100 Slugs, 200 Rounds of 6 Shot; Model 19 Glock 9mm 10 Magazines (5: 15 Round, 5: 33 Round), 2000 Rounds of FMJ, 100 Rounds of Black Talons, 200 Rounds of Win Silvertips; Springfield Armory M1A1 .308 (10: 20 Round Magazines), 2000 Rounds FMJ, 200 Rounds "Black Tip" Armor Piercing; Armalite M15A2 5.56/.223 (10: 30 Round Magazines), 2000 Rounds SS109 Penetrator, 2000 Rounds FMJ; Smith and Wesson 686 .357 4", 100 Rounds Black Talons, 100 Rounds Hornady XTP, 100 Rounds Golden Sabers. I also have a pretty mellow "house arsenal" just for basics: AGM MP40, KWA SR12, CYMA Thompson, CYMA Shotgun, CYMA Glock 18C, HFC Colt .25, UTG L96, Echo 1 MTC, Echo 1 P90. Anyway, I'm not saying I want this to happen, but, yeah, I'm good with whatever goes down (nukes, aliens, some bullshit Obama thing, etc.).