B.T.O. Is especially useful when you grossly overfill your 308 case trying to prove it can hang with the 264 Hornady and smash the tip flat compressing that powder.
I've noticed variances with base to ogive measurements in bullets as well. Even with Bergers. My most consistent ammo is when my brass base to ogive measurement is consistent. Those cartridges are going to be chambered the same every time. That is if your brass is trimmed and sized properly. Seating depths will have nodes in accuracy. Seat a few at each depth and find the most accurate one that will fit into your magazine.
I have an insatiable Kevin Brittingham fetish. It is my ultimate fantasy to be gagged, tied up, and brutally assfucked by Kevin Brittingham. I have accrued tens of thousands in debt attempting to fill this void with sexual 'toys,' including several custom, unregistered form 1 silencer dildos and a balding Kevin-shaped real doll with a tramp stamp that reads "Take My Bepsi Challenge" in Chinese characters. I have had my face made love to by hundreds of balding, bearded, gen Xers, but not one of them could make me climax. Only Kevin is capable of giving me that release. The wife and I are separated, and have accepted the fact that I will never see my kids again. The only thing keeping Karen from divorcing me is the fear that she might be the final push into a deep. inescapable abyss, at the bottom of which lies my death. The truth is, our marriage died nine years ago on the night I met the love of my life. While browsing Instagram I saw Kevin's inconsistent welds and became rock hard, collapsing in the shower and sobbing at the realization that Kevin would never, could never, pin me down with his perfectly smooth body and stubby arms, penetrate me with his incredible shallow girth and empty his huge, aching balls deep inside my tummy. I sat there all night, sometimes weeping, sometimes ramming my flaccid dick into the shower drain in frustration. It has been nine years since that night. I have nothing now. I have accepted that. My apartment is a squalid den of inescapable despair, filled with jizz-stained 300 blackout shells and tormented notes etched onto lewd posters of the honey badger. I spend my days printing out screenshots of his forum posts and crying. My only friends are the roaches.
B.T.O. Is especially useful when you grossly overfill your 308 case trying to prove it can hang with the 264 Hornady and smash the tip flat compressing that powder.
Wade’s the man.
💯
As usual well said Wade
Using Case Base To Ogive or C.B.T.O. helps correlate this measurement to C.O.A.L.
Keeps people from asking "Base of what?"
My 2cents.
I've noticed variances with base to ogive measurements in bullets as well. Even with Bergers. My most consistent ammo is when my brass base to ogive measurement is consistent. Those cartridges are going to be chambered the same every time. That is if your brass is trimmed and sized properly. Seating depths will have nodes in accuracy. Seat a few at each depth and find the most accurate one that will fit into your magazine.
How are you feeling about the 338arc announcement, and Q’s little hissyfit about a new competitor that isn’t grossly overpriced?
I have an insatiable Kevin Brittingham fetish. It is my ultimate fantasy to be gagged, tied up, and brutally assfucked by Kevin Brittingham.
I have accrued tens of thousands in debt attempting to fill this void with sexual 'toys,' including several custom, unregistered form 1 silencer dildos and a balding Kevin-shaped real doll with a tramp stamp that reads "Take My Bepsi Challenge" in Chinese characters. I have had my face made love to by hundreds of balding, bearded, gen Xers, but not one of them could make me climax. Only Kevin is capable of giving me that release.
The wife and I are separated, and have accepted the fact that I will never see my kids again. The only thing keeping Karen from divorcing me is the fear that she might be the final push into a deep. inescapable abyss, at the bottom of which lies my death.
The truth is, our marriage died nine years ago on the night I met the love of my life. While browsing Instagram I saw Kevin's inconsistent welds and became rock hard, collapsing in the shower and sobbing at the realization that Kevin would never, could never, pin me down with his perfectly smooth body and stubby arms, penetrate me with his incredible shallow girth and empty his huge, aching balls deep inside my tummy. I sat there all night, sometimes weeping, sometimes ramming my flaccid dick into the shower drain in frustration.
It has been nine years since that night. I have nothing now. I have accepted that. My apartment is a squalid den of inescapable despair, filled with jizz-stained 300 blackout shells and tormented notes etched onto lewd posters of the honey badger. I spend my days printing out screenshots of his forum posts and crying. My only friends are the roaches.
Oh my …
Oh yeah a little game of just the ogive. ;)
Sometimes that’s all you need…
Your brimless cap is disturbing