Killbucket Dynasty

More on the Killbucket Dynasty, some may be less than true:
But only for legal reasons.

You might know me. I'm the poor kid, who wore those shiny jeans from Sears, back when Marsha Brady was hot.

I had a bright yellow sweater that I wore everywhere. I was hoping for a red one next, but it looked like my big brother,
(pic withheld by witness protection program)
KillDumpster, was going to get holes shot in it first.

Incidentally, the guy to my left became a cop. He busted me in my twenties for speeding in the rain, on a motorcycle. He let me go. Right on.

We didn't have money for a new car. We din't have money for a better junk car. We were so poor, we had to XXXX the dog, to feed the cat.

"Butcher"...the word was "butcher"...who got something else? Please leave. Take the donkey with you. Thanks. Yes, we'll be in touch. Really.


KillDumpster wasn't mechanically inclined. He went to grab a Scout knife from me once while I was whittling (yes, I whittle. While thinking about my neighbor's Mom, mostly), by reaching for the blade without asking first. We lived 40 miles from the hospital. Yeah, he was real methodical about thinking ahead.

My 2 older sisters were known for two things: Being pretty, and having a

Crazed Drill Sergeant for a father. My big brother kept him pretty busy, tho, what with tuition, clothing, and bail-bonds.

I fixed all of Dad's cars from the age of 7 on up. S-E-V-E-N. I could recite the firing order of a Chev Small block before I could spell Santa Claus. Tools are awesome, you can see what's inside of stuff, make Dad get real excited. What's a tube tester? I know, because I've repaired them. OK, it was after breaking them. But I got it going again, ...right before we tossed it.


My little brother was KillChoppit. Find a yearbook from LaCenter High School, 1983, you'll find an unusual senior picture, him with a (probably stolen) El Cid sword resting on his shoulder. Leif Erikson re-incarnated. He's really changed since, and mellowed a lot:

Here's his (REAL) Facebook Profile shot. I'm considering him for the Air-Sharp Complaint Department, if things get heavy.


Mom was the smart one, and took off to California to "find herself". I was two. We all got to stay with Dad, who immediately started interviewing new
mommies. He wasn't good at it, after a few tries, he found us somebody to hate and resent,....er listen to.
Looked like Samantha, but acted like Endora. Whatever Daddy saw in her,...well, let's just say, I'm HAPPY I can't see it. RIP Dad.
Stepmommy? Only the good get to die young.

Washington state is beautiful in the Summer. You know, July third through fifth? I split town in 1989. Went to California to "find myself". I was 27.

I haven't seen my family in person, since The Simpsons first came on TV.
California is THAT good. Yeah, that's why.

I worked in robotics, biomedicals, lasers, wafer fab, cable equipment assembly, and a place that made electronics for monitoring babies. No, you couldn't keep me around very long. Too much to learn.

I did end up with some long stints, and came to truly hate stints. I've been stintless since 2007!

wow o_O

wow, you write really good. and you are a very sucessful person, its good to have you here

(whats next on the dynesty? may i speculate?)

Do you have a KillbucketJunior or one on the way? (if its not wierd)

thats interesting , sounds like your childhood was hard, but now all your worrk is great,

well, it made u the way ya are, for better or worse better... I mean better

u seem hella sucessful . good for u man good for you

WW's dynesty;

he played airsoft learned how to paint and soon found love with G&G m14 shela...... nah yours is better


and him(your bro) at the complaint department is great........ you'd scare your custiomers, but they would get the point"NO WE ARE SURE THEY WORK!!"

I just tossed a BE G3 model in the trash, complete.

They have all the charm of an ashtray. Virtually ALL mid-priced "G3" -based airsoft guns are pure poo.

Easily the WORST guns to work on, I found NO grease in the first one. Spent a little more on the second. It had grease, but it stank to high heaven, like an old car axle that's been freshly opened. Ick on both counts.

I didn't see any way to make these into decent guns. When I call a design hopeless, it truly is.
Wait a minute, one DID find a home. The Alien Flamethrower was one of these things. And it became a desk lamp.