This is my rifle, this is my gun...

Nice...

 

No comment.

 

I want to slip my tubesnake into your sister ... what'll you take in trade?

What do you got?

 

That's how I ended up with a gun. A buddy who had been in the Army had it, and as soon as his first child became mobile, his wife banished it.

I was in my early 30s and had never held a gun in my life. It's a nine-shot revolver -- I don't know much about guns, but I'm told that's kind of unusual. Another friend would take me out to an abandoned gravel pit that had become an unofficial gun range, and I have to admit, I had much the same experience as batman.

There really is something exhilarating about it. It's kind of like this scenic bridge near a place I go camping. Walking across, the railing is maybe 4 feet high, and the drop is hundreds and hundreds of feet. You're going across thinking, "One muscle twitch, one little hop, and it's all over." Holding a loaded gun is the same way. One move and you could kill someone, or yourself. It's strange and exciting to have that power literally in the palm of your hand.

 

... this one's for fighting, this one's for fun.

Solid.
_____

I got my first .22 rifle at age 12, shot on my college rifle team, lugged an M-16 for four years (and made 40/40 on my qualifications three of four times) and got to shoot a REAL gun ... the 155mm howitzer. All along, I'd hang out at my grandpa's stock pond and hunt water moccasins with a 16-gauge shotgun for sport.

Welcome to the "gun" club.

 

I have two gun safes, more than 20 firearms and a full ammo cabinet that stays locked.

My children are learning to shoot, hunt and be responsible around firearms.

But everything (almost) stays under lock and key, which is hidden, because I don't trust their friends.

Welcome to the gun club, Batman. Find a range nearby that allows you to rent, take some lessons and continue shooting. You will enjoy it.

 

Does somebody need a gun rack?

 

If you served, you may not feel the same anymore... and I'm not preaching or anything of the sort...It's more of a burden and a lasting memory.

 

1-2-3-4, I Love Marine Corps ...

Should have made Jack's manuscript, fuck the little boy having no fun shit.

 

Shot my first .22 when I was four. Owned BB guns and air rifles through my teens. My dad took a job at a crazy union plant. He was receiving death threats all the time so I went out and bought a rifle. Nothing like cracking some rounds on an early, sunny morning.

Haven't tried hunting. I love shooting, but don't know if I could do it to something living. My last publisher made me re-think that stance quite a bit.

 

I shot a nine-millimeter handgun and a .22 deer rifle when I was 13. It was fun, but not something I'd want to do regularly.