Gun Cleaning Pads : Central Window Cleaning : Why Dry Clean.
1911 Handgun Pistol Gun Cleaning Mat
The perfect cleaning and repair mat for your 1911. Have fun and learn while you work on your favorite handgun. The soft top protects your gun from scratches while the neoprene rubber backing protects your work surface from chemicals while keeping everything in place.80% (16)
This isn't your ordinary gun cleaning mat! Show your pride for your firearm while using this high quality neoprene rubber backed and cloth top gun cleaning mat to protect your gun bench, desk, kitchen table, or whatever surface you usually clean or maintain your gun on. You likely keep your gun in a soft padded case or maybe a gun cabinet with a felt lined rack or something similar to protect it so why would you scratch your gun while cleaning or repairing it by setting it on a hard surface that could easily scratch your firearm?
PROTECT YOUR GUN AND WORK AREA
The soft polyester top will ensure your gun doesn't get scratched while the neoprene rubber backing on the mat will keep everything in place and prevent your work surface from sliding around. This mat will also keep harmful chemicals, oil and dirt from penetrating down to your desk, bench or the area where you normally clean and work on your firearms. After the mat begins to accumulate too much dirt, chemicals, or oil just throw it in the wash on a gentle cycle, allow to air dry and it will be virtually like new.
ENTERTAINING AND EDUCATIONAL
With the exploded view drawings and accompanying parts list, making repairs, disassembling your firearm, or basic cleaning can be done much faster and with greater enjoyment. Guns are extremely fascinating and the drawings and data that is printed on each mat will keep you entertained while educating you on how your firearm operates.
This gun cleaning and parts mat measures 11 inches by 17 inches and is 1/8 of an inch thick.
the friction of fiction: chpt. III
Warning: Mature content III BACK WASH Hex was a bear of a black man, boasting a firm two hundred and eighty pound frame, and a glossy shaved scalp. At least it was glossy and clean shaved a moment before the small transport he’d been riding aboard had suddenly been ripped free of the ship he and his crew had just soft docked with, a split second before it had slammed mid barrel role into the side of an enormous magnetic grappling pad, which by coincidence had caught not only himself but everyone else aboard the Yakie 180 completely by surprise. Pressing a moist cloth to the deep gapping gash that stretched from his left check bone to just above his temple, and clearly agitated by the amount of blood he’d allowed to run down onto the fine leather of his coat, Hex sat himself down along side Cheeko, who was just coming around himself. "You’re not dead. Seen Chaff?" Cheeko responded, shacking his head groggily. "No...Que acaba de suceder?" With a light nod of his head, Hex patted Cheeko on the shoulder, and made a quick visual inspection of the vessel. Right off, it was clear they were sitting engines cold, at as near as he could tell, at a good ninety degree angle. Whatever had just happened it had not only completely killed the primary reactor, but it had equally demolished the back up systems, as he found himself trying to nurse his wounds with nothing more then the dim light emanating through the six small portholes that dotted the port and starboard bows of the crafts hold. It was a safe beat that if emergency lighting had not kicked in, life support would equally be down as well. Whatever time they had left, it was limited at best, and as far as Hex we concerned, his vessel was little more then a dead stick. It was enough to send chills down his spin, but clearly not the kind of information he wanted to be sharing, as Cheeko knew little to nothing about deep space vessels. Besides, Hex’ Espanola was shit and trying to find the time explaining to Cheeko in a way that he would understand was that much more air taken away from working out their next move. "I don’t know man" He finally answered, edging his way towards a starboard port to take a peek outside. "Anybody get the I.D. of that freighter?" He continued, while soaking in a good view of the Colonial Fiction’s prow, and the severed docking collar they had only moments ago, been firmly latched too. Cheeko smirked a moment before replacing the light hearted glad we’re still alive feeling with a more begrudged expression, as he motioned towards the cock pit. "Rudy?" Hex’s eye’s fallowed Cheeko’s glance, and if not already displaying a very tot frown, deepened his cheeks even further, while making full use of the wrinkles on his forehead. "Yeah, I know. Never even saw it comin’." Then came another deep throated voice from the back of the hold. "Not dead, not dead, I’m right here." It was Chaff. Clambering out from underneath a pile of environment suits that had been broken free of their holdings during the tumble, Chaff tossed each aside with angry intent, taking time to insure he still had all of his extremities, and no more holes in his body then nature had intended. "Told you that mother fucker couldn’t kill me!" "Still did a pretty fine job of kicking our ass’s by the looks of it though." Hex responded, while taking the time to check how saturated with blood the damp cloth he’d been holding against the side of his face had become. "Damn fine job of kicking our ass’s. Good thing this bitch has a negatively charged lining, or we’d all be abstract art against the hull." Chaff struggled to his feet, and clumsily made his way over the mounds of supplies that had broken free of their holds, to Hex and Cheeko, doing his best to shack off the vertigo. He couldn’t help but ponder through the dizziness how all of the flung supplies had managed to scatter themselves in such a disarrayed furious fashion with out impacting lethally against his body. Standing over Hex, and Cheeko, Chaff dropped down to one knee, and took in a deep breath. "Life support’s down. We’re wastin’ time breathin’ here." Hex nodded in agreement, and with that Chaff wrestled a large black sports bag free from it’s logging under a bench seat. "One more reason to put a fucking bullet in the little piker’s head." Unzipping the sports bag, Chaff helped himself to the stalk of assault rifles, ammunition and other goodies they’d brought along for what they had only moments ago assumed would have been an easy hit. Slapping a magazine into an MP5, he chambered an round, and then turned the rifle down on his lap, so that he could more easily adjust the shoulder strap. Taking his cue, Cheeko drew the 50. Caliber Dessert Eagle he’d brought along, and aimed it towards the aft in hopes of insuring the sights had not been tampered with during the tumble. Clearly not satisfied, he r,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Clocked ! ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
. That's right I've been spotted by Momma Monkey. By the angle you can see I'm slithering around on my belly in a pile of old banana peels. Was it fun ? Well there is a lot of bugs competing for the same space. Ants, flys and a large assortment of other buzzing and biting critters making their presents known !! Anyway these primates have been keeping a very keen eye on me as this photo is taken during the time when a lot of kidnappings were taking place. First I just sat and watched then started moving forward but they were just way to spooky so I stretched out on my belly and started inching my way towards them doing the low crawl. Still they remained on alert and didn't want me getting to close. Good thing the 70-300VR was on board the D300 for the extra reach. Don't think the 17-55 lens would have worked well today, needed to keep my distance on this adventure. Even the birds seemed to be edgy as their vocal display was a fast machine gun style of alerts signaling some kind of danger. Whether that danger was me or the over all mood present on the jungles floor was only their interpretation. Most of the trips to monkey mountain are met with song birds singing their tune in a more joyful manner but not this time. Thinking back every trip has a different mood when I arrive, but one thing I Never Forget is these are Wild Animals !! This is their world and I am only here to observe and document. They have never invited me to stop by so in their minds I am only a party crasher..;-0. But in my mind it is a open party so I'll keep crashing...;-) . With that being said there is a birthday party here today. One of my nieces is turning 5 and everyone will show up to help her celebrate, as she will let you know if your a No show.!. Bob Marley is drifting through out the house with jungle birds on back up just outside the door. Sun is starting to reach the morning hot spot [8am] which means it will be a cooker today. And one young Jon has to start cleaning the bachelor pad so it looks all neat and tidy. No# 1 wife has been gone for nearly 3 months and will be home this coming week. Mr WeeNee, The Worm and Mr Jon have been having our own party, time to get out the mop and get busy ..;-0~ Thanks goes out to you all, your words and support are always welcome. Hand held D300 Nikon, 70-300VR Nikkor lens. Taken in a hot steamy dark triple canopy jungle while lying on my stomach. . . Best Viewed Large.....Please No Graphics . .
Motor Guard Corp Foam Polishing Pad Cleaning Tool is designed to provide easy cleaning facility. The procedure works easy by just passing the pad pro across the spinning pad while the flexible rotating paddle blasts away, wet, loaded or dried also caked leaving the pad clean and ready. This tool cleans while the pad is on the buffer and it saves considerable time. This tool is also handy for rejuvenating pads during buffing and quickly drying pads that have been hand washed. It is backed by a 1 year warranty on material and workmanship.Related topics:
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