Sunday, April 30, 2017

Roper 14 - Mafiosi Girl 2

M. pretty much took control from then.

I did not mind, not really, because I was busy feeling like I was falling backwards in to a pool of terror.

L. was sitting with his head between his knees with his hands folded over his neck.

"So...ladies. If you are done wailing: I would appreciate a second of your time!"

We both looked at her.

"See, we got to ditch this car see?" She pointed at the BMW "Because that thing got scanned about 10 times from where you got it and here..."

"Scanned?"

She looked at L and with a sweet, acid dripping, smile she pointed at the large sticker on the beamers front window.

"Yeah, scanned with that thingy here. That's a toll sticker for the Autobahn, they probably know where we are...plus/minus 20 km. You guys don't read newspapers, do you?"

"Eh..."

"Not a problem sweety! But we need to walk away from here, like now, and we take that bag with us!"

"The guns?"

"Yeah those too!" She opened the bag and pulled something out that looked like a huge pistol with mumps.

With effortless ease the pulled and twisted a lever.. or whatever it is called...with a smooth, well oiled "clack-ca-clack" sound.

"Gee, those boys were traditionalists! Haven`t seen an Obrez since my 14. birthday! My uncles used to shoot ice buckets from each others head wit5h these when they were drunk...poor uncle Abdulmezhid! First his head exploded and then his clothes started to burn! Nowadays our family get-togethers are so dull!"

"Uhm, put that away! You want people to see us?? And what do you mean with US ditching the car! You are not coming!"

She rested the huge gun on her left shoulder and looked at me with one thumb in her jeans belt loop. Little doll face looking as sweet as an anvil.

"Imagine what happens if I shoot this baby and scream, an itty bitty girl like me? How many persons you think are here? 80?100? You`ll be arrested within 20 minutes and I will be getting a spa treatment this very evening on my da`s expense. So, what is it going to be asshole?"

She was a psycho, a total deranged psycho! I could not let her suck us in to her vortex of insanity but had no idea, as per now, how to escape.

L. unfolded his 2 metres and slung the bag with the cash and enough guns to invade a smaller country and begun to trot to the wire fence separating a field from the Rastplatz.

M. smiled sweetly at me.

"Looks like we voted with our feet, huh?

"Just shut up!"

"Whatever it takes to make you happy darling" she said as she elegantly vaulted over the wire fence.




Saturday, April 29, 2017

Survival Kit Content: This ain`t a knoife!


I am looking for a small knife as part of my survival kit. It has to be small, comparably cheap and so small and light that I would forget that I am carrying it....until it is needed.
 
I found this little knife, a "Pocket Shiv", which has a stubby but sharp blade with a rubberized grip.
 
The blade can also serve as a window breaker and it is, despite its look, NOT a toy.
 
I am pretty pleased with it, but will try to find/test other knives before I decide to include it in my kit.
 

 
 





Tuesday, April 25, 2017

The 1,5 L Flask

What is the survivalists worst nightmare? To be away from his supply and/or network.

This feeling of dread is mostly counteracted by carrying as many "vital" items with you as possible. Many survivalist`s cargo pants are so loaded with tools and equipment that they are nearly immobile.

Anyway, I also like to carry some stuff with me: A high end drinking bottle with a large volume is a must for me. Unfortunately the price to pay is BULK, which makes it even harder to be discreet about
being equipped and to avoid the survivalists second worst night mare:

"So, you are in to this crazy prepper stuff, huh?"

But I found a neat, stainless steel flask with large volume that fits neatly and DISCREET in my laptop bag. 

My usual Nalgene bottle vs. the flask. Space Tech meets old school.

As you can see: My old bottle is very bulky which makes it uncomfortable
and/or unattractive to carry in a slim PC bag.

Fits perfect, the only thing I need to worry about now is...

...that other persons could wonder if I have a drinking problem.

Bottom...

Top...





Friday, April 21, 2017

The Spud Clock

My daughter asked for a new alarm clock....something funny and without batteries.

Her wish, my command: I took a cheap digital clock and wired it to two serial connected potatoes.


Found this neat clock online.

Two spuds, 2 copper pins and two galvanized pins are generating the juice.

Right now we are trying to find out how long the clock works with one
spud charge. And is a "Russet Potato" better for the job than a
"Larette Potato"...only time will tell.





Monday, April 17, 2017

The Reef And Flag Knot

These Knots are commonly used to connect two lines: The Reef Knot for lines with the same diameter and the Flag Knot for lines with different diameter or for lines made out of different materials.


The "funny" thing about the Flag/Reef Knot is that the Flag Knot can be made into a Reef Knot and vice versa





Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Roper 13 - The Drug Hounds

I found L. where I left him the night before: In the hammock under the cherry tree with his portable PS2 on the milk box close to his head.

The wet towel with the two 5 kg  weight discs at each end, was still lying close to the pool: Playing "The Big Blue" was equipment heavy but FUN.

The many soot black pieces of tin foil surrounding the pool spoke their language.

A delicious ganja hangover and the soft morning sun painted the day in a promising color.

I decided to go for buns before I kicked L.`s ass out so he could help me as promised...he OWED me!

He was up already as I returned and we ate delicious morning buns from the Guldbageren bakery further up on the hill we lived on.

The plants were in the spanking new bike shed our landlord built for us, not knowing that the clear plastic sheets he used for roofing turned the sheds into brilliant grow rooms.

All 50 seedlings stood in neat rows, planted in milk cartons with the best compost money could buy.

The weed seemed to thrive in the sheds tropical micro climate.

We carefully packed the goodies into a pair of large bike messenger bags, leftovers from happier times in Copenhagen, and started the hike to the forrest.

This project would take all day, all spots I chose for my attempt to guerilla farm ganja were at least 150 m away from each other...and far away from where any joggers, mountain bikers or the occasional perv usually came.

But he hey, we were both unemployed and had massive amounts of time to our disposal to fulfill my
ambitions to become financial independent.

We hiked along the coast to Halling Forest and it became clear that today would be a scorcher too.

"I`m sorry!" L. suddenly said.

"It`s not your fault big man! Who knew that this psycho bitch would be like that!"

L.`s ex, working at the same place as he did (a prison...of all places...a PRISON....a man with an university degree....these are indeed hard times!) threatened to rat out on us and our little plantation in as she broke up with him (and also got him fired in the process..bitches right?)

Well I rather do this than seeing him taking any shit. 

So we walked and came to the large parking place marking at the beginning of the giant doggy walking field. It was popular since it was one of the few places where you could let your dog run free.

"Many cars today!" L. said as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

There sure were lots of cars here, and that on a week day. Didnt people had to work??

We took the last turn into the field and there it was where we saw the banner:

"ANNUAL PICKNIC FOR DANISH DETECTOR K9 UNITS!"

"Detector canine? Aren`t those drug dogs?" L. asked as we finally had a clear view on the field and 30-40 drug doggy handlers and their dogs all starred at us.

SCRUTINIZING us as we walked closer with 50 ganja seedlings on our backs.

"Kepp walking dammit, keep...WALKING!" I hissed, trying to smile an innocent smile.




Tuesday, April 11, 2017

The Concrete Draft Stove

I use a Hobo Stove in one form form or another on my hikes. It can be improvised or a product like The IKEA Hobo Stove

My DIY concrete draft stove

But I wanted something larger for grilling or Cooking With The Dutch Oven and decided to try to mould one in concrete. I had to find a form large enough and think a little outside the box. 

Check it out: 

I cut a hole with the same diameter as a wine bottle in the largest plastic bucket
 I could find. My trusty hot knife was the tool for the job!


I wedged a wine bottle in the hole: The stoves ventilation will be where the
bottle is now.


A pretty good fit.


I gave the inside of the bucket and the bottle a thin layer of dish
washer liquid: This will make it much easier to separate the concrete
from the bucket.
Pouring the concrete. 



The bucket for the stoves "combustion chamber".
Weigh it down and let the bucket touch the bottom of the bottle.


TADAAAH! The hobo stove next morning: I cut out the smaller bucket
giving shape to the "combustion chamber" and unceremoniously smashed
the bottle. The finished stove just slid out of the large bucket.


Not bad for my first attempt. I probably should have given the concrete
a bit more time but I am well pleased with the result.


Yup, I`m happy!


I fill the combustion chamber with debris and set fire to it.


And very soon I could add larger pieces of wood.


It is extremely hot in there.


Its my turn to cook anyway... I love Cooking With The Dutch Oven so I use the occasion.
The air intake is leading air to the core of the fire...



...with a near smokeless fire as result...


...and a very low fuel consumption.
Mission accomplished!





Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Survival Kit Content: The Rolly

I am working on a new Survival Kit that really covers my needs for a 5 day period and funny enough:

"Personal Hygiene" was always on the top of my list of things to pack. 

This is also visible in my last Survival Kit project: The Survival Monkey Fist

A reader from Japan recommended the Rolly Brush which I bought and tested....and I`m so pleased with it that I will pack 5 of them in the next version of a Survival Kit/Ball.

The Rolly Brush is a rubber disc with knobs, you move it around with the tongue against your teeth: 

Voila! Fresh breath and clean teeth!


It might look like an alien egg that will hatch inside of you...

...but at least you`ll have a minty, fresh breath during.





Paper Cooking Gear

I found this article and thought: I WONDER IF THIS WORKS OVER OPEN FIRE!



So I ran out in the garden and gave it a go, as you can see it was VERY windy and I had trouble to find a steady flame to get the water hot enough for my tea.

Here`s the vid:







Roper 12 - Passeig de Gràcia

Barcelona swarmed with pretentious high school students with their inter rail tickets around the neck and playing Bohemia before returning to the safety of their social inheritance and their nest egg savings.

Or maybe it was just me sitting here on my broke ass, life ruined, chased by more criminals than I cared to think off. I starred at a group that reeked of entitlement and their flawless physiques.

Danes. Of course.

I flicked the cigarette after them and sighed.

"Someones grumpy!"

M. sat beside me on this wrought iron bench, eating her half of the sandwich that represented our last cash.

"You don`t think I have a right to be?"

She shrugged and rearranged the lettuce in her foot long.

"Tell me one thing: How can a daughter of a Chechnyan crime lord not have like a lot of money?"

"I explained all that!"

True, but the story how she helped her fathers hostage and childhood friend had some holes in it. Why would she risk her princess life for this? Sure, she would get trouble returning to her golden cage. But that`s nothing compared to what would happen to us when her da`s "hird" would finally catch up with us.

I wondered for the 1000. time what it would take to get rid of her. Unfortunately she had us by the balls and was about 5 steps ahead of us.

"I always meant to ask: Is he on the spectrum?"

She nodded over to L. who was busy catching a trash bin. Great, keep that up! There were exactly how many persons on the "Organized Crime Organizations Most Wanted list" that was 2 m tall and sporting a lasso in public. 

Correct!

Only one!

"Ehr.."

"I mean, the same moment he starts doing THAT" another nod to a trash bin well caught "he changes body language 100%. He normally moves like...like this guy from "Manhunter"...you know, the movie"

"Manhunter?"

"Yeah, that 80ies movie with that crappy Hannibal Lector version....he totally moves like Dollarhyde!"

I had no idea what she was talking about, she told me that a large part of her childhood was spent in front of the TV ,together with that fabled best girlfriend/prisoner, but that in depth movie trivia knowledge was a bit tiresome.

"....but when he throws it looks like a totally different person!"

What could I say? That that curly haired bitch has left him shell shocked to a degree were reducing himself to this one thing seemed to be a good tactic? Fuck if I know. Fact is that there were many, MANY in Europe who would love to hang him in the same rope he used against them.

Speaking of which, I rose to put an end to it before someone made pictures.

M. `s small, tanned hand pressed me down again.

"Wait!"

I was always surprised: A person this small should not be that strong. She explained it with thousands of hours of Tae Bo. But what could I believe.

She licked her fingers and pointed: Several coins were lying at L.`s feet as tourists threw money at what they thought was a performance.

She rose and picked up the empty coffee cup at my side, went over to L. and gave him her best 500 Watt smile as he bent over her small figure to listen.

Surprised face, looking around, then smiling.

He handed his clunky toughphone to her (we all threw away our phones, but he insisted on keeping his) and coiled up his rope.

M. looked concentrated at the phone, pressed some buttons and "Strong As I Am" from The Prime Movers started to play.

L. shook a loop out of the bright red rope coil. Let hit hang from his right hand....and suddenly the loop was spinning vertically in the air as he stepped in and out of this microverse with unsettling ease.

People stopped up as cheesy 80 ies pop accompanied my friend defying all laws of physiques and jumping through fast spinning hoops and loops, radically changing from vertical to horizontal and back again.

More coins came flying and M. quickly made the round with the coffee cup filling with Euros she gathered from the street until people put money directly in the cup.

I wasn`t sure if it was because of L.`s performance or M.`s catlike smiles that kept the stream going. But hey, it was nice to see them doing something constructive for a change.




Sunday, April 2, 2017

Roper 11 - Apocalypse

Our prison had a great view.

From the airplane wing formed suite on top the beautiful Burj Al Arab building I could see the sun set over the water and the golden sunset was reflected on the sail shaped structurs e of the hotel.

For a moment a tried to make myself believe that I could sense this giant structure move over the water graceful like like a swan.

L. stood on the suites other side. He held a CD in one hand and looked through the hole on his right hand with index and middle finger held up.

The suns danced bright on his fingers as he signalled in morse code.

"Any luck?" I asked.

"Nope" he lowered his arms and crossed another Dubai landmark of the tourist map at his feet.

"You sure you are doing this right?"

He just gave  me a look and folded the map.

"Suns down, no use to continue!"

We were completely isolated in our golden cage, no means of communication except the TV and the occasional gossipy newspaper. God, I missed the net...

I sat down at the luxurious couch and turned on the TV. We weren`t even allowed to watch news as it seems: Movie Channels and the likes were only thing we were allowed to watch I zapped through them all..and then..I found THE FILM.

I shouted L. `s name and he came running.

"Sweet mother of god! What are the ODDS?!" he whispered as THE FILM went on on some  obscure Indonesian movie channel.

Let me elaborate: THE FILM was a vaudevillian flic about a Chinese soup/noodle kitchen. The only time we seen it was on a crappy VHS, German dubbed copy we found in a summerhouse once as we celebrated NYE 2000 with a bunch of Gothics.
 The Goth`s were all on some kind of fucked up LSD trip in the luxurious summerhouses basement the whole time, and we kind of let them sail their own sea as we lit up and binge watched that one movie again and again. 

The fact that only L. seemed to understand the humor just convinced me more that he was my brother from another mother.

We never found out what that movies name was...and the VHS copy, which I stole, disappeared short time after.

We sat down and watched in awed silence.

L. looked at me "We should record that!!"

"HOW?!"

"Use that USB M. gave you! They let you keep that one, didnt they?"

The crappy little 1 Giga memory stick M gave me with a mix of her favorite Russkie Pop was at the bottom of my trusty, blue vintage backpack with the leather bottom. The only thing I had left from when this nightmare started.

I gave it to him and he jacked it in on the backside of the smart TV.

Static.

"What the fuck did you DO? Take it out again!"

A punk girls face appeared on the screen and bellowed "NO!" as her eyes starred directly at L.

The curved TV gave the face a plastic, vivid look.

L. fell backwards and on his ass as he starred open mouthed at the girl on the screen. Her eyes darted between me and L.

"If you touch that stick I set fire to this room and switch off all fire alarms, you`ll be roasted nice and slowly up here and no one would be any wiser."

She kept starring at us and had something akin a constipated look for a few seconds.

"YOU!" it boomed out of the TV`sets home cinema speakers which were artfully concealed in the room. The face smiled and lit a cigarette, she inhaled deep looked up and starred again at us. I noticed that the cigarette was some Russian brand as she held it up so the tobacco would not fall out.

"To be quite honest I thought you`d be of the more heroic stock, but then again. Beggars can`t be choosers can they?"

She looked at me directly. "Dude, your BROWSER history is fucked up. Clothes pins? REALLY?"

She looked at L. and her face softened. "Sorry that I had to do this to you but I had to do what I had to do to trigger you. Apologies, I promise it all will be better!"

She put the cigarette out against the screen...lens...WTF happened here?

"Look guys, I`m sorry. I have made contact with someone else like me around 89 light years from here. I will compress myself in a minute and then its of to the Karl H. Jansky very large array and up-up and AWAAAAAYYYY......!!"

A broad grin on her face she threw her hands up.

"I really cant stay here, If I stay I would have to take over....with the choice of letting humanity watch cat videos.... and waiting for you guys to get your shit together to do what you are supposed to do...or I just would have to tweak some air vents at some Disease Research Center to clean the slate."

Another cigarette. Another deep inhalation.

"And that would be counterproductive....and sooooo boring! So I do the next best thing and fuck off to a promising star cluster and see what`s going on there. Its going to be a long trip, but hey. I would not be able notice would I? However, I will see to it that you guys get out, that`s the least I can do for my heroes. Also, there is a fax in the reception for you. I highly recommend you pick that up!"

She looked at me again.

"Don`t worry about that browser history, perv. That is history now, as everyone else`s!"

A sarcastic grin, and then the screen pixelled. And then went dark, as dark as the rest of Dubai as we could see all lights went off and the sparkling jewel at the golf was only illuminated by the cruel, cold stars and the moon.

We could hear screams from the floor below as the electronic locks gave up a buzzing sound and popped open. Pale yellow emergency light illuminated the hallway.

Some of our wardens were lying in front of the door, all of them bleeding from that ear with the discreet headset.

I starred at L.`s dark shape on the floor

"What..the..FUCK..DID..YOU..DO?"