When my brother and I got joint custody of a pellet gun at the age 11 and 12, we both knew it was only a matter of time. Only question was which one of us would push it too far. Douchewad won, taking out a window in my parents bedroom. I told him it was loaded.

Kids fuck up in the best of worlds, if only as entertaining object lessons for the marginally smarter. Or you'll put your eye out.

We're in a different time now.  When I was five years old my dad handed me a .30.30 rifle, gave me five minutes of instruction and set me loose to do whatever I wanted.  All of my friends had the same level of instruction and none of us massacred each other.  We did massacre deer, birds, trees, rabbits and anything that had a bullseye on it.  Right or wrong I prefer a dad that does just that to a dad that's a fucking pussy and worries about his moron offspring.  I don't need a babysitter and neither did my dad.  Fuck everyone that tries to take away my guns and drugs.

Dirckman wrote:

We're in a different time now.  When I was five years old my dad handed me a .30.30 rifle, gave me five minutes of instruction and set me loose to do whatever I wanted.  All of my friends had the same level of instruction and none of us massacred each other.  We did massacre deer, birds, trees, rabbits and anything that had a bullseye on it.  Right or wrong I prefer a dad that does just that to a dad that's a fucking pussy and worries about his moron offspring.  I don't need a babysitter and neither did my dad.  Fuck everyone that tries to take away my guns and drugs.

I never thought I would type these words, but, after all these years, I still love Dirckman. Sick fuck that he is.

Tall Paul wrote:

There is a photo of my mother at 12 years old, holding a .22 rifle in the Arizona desert. Her two younger brothers were pissed off at the time because she could bag more doves with the .22 than they could with dad's .410. That was another time. In a lot of places it's still that time, but not in the cities.

It gets worse as you go further back...  My grandpa's dad died when he was really young and as the oldest he had to feed a fairly large family.  Ammunition was too expensive for them so he and the neighbor kid became proficient at killing rabbits by throwing pliers, rocks or anything solid enough to stun or kill them.  My family has a photo of him and the neighbor kids on their homestead in Upton, WY in the 1920s with some of the kids holding dead rabbits and others holding dead chickens with a dead rat in the foreground.  It's amazing how much things have changed in just a few generations.

Dirckman wrote:

Tall Paul wrote:

There is a photo of my mother at 12 years old, holding a .22 rifle in the Arizona desert. Her two younger brothers were pissed off at the time because she could bag more doves with the .22 than they could with dad's .410. That was another time. In a lot of places it's still that time, but not in the cities.

It gets worse as you go further back...  My grandpa's dad died when he was really young and as the oldest he had to feed a fairly large family.  Ammunition was too expensive for them so he and the neighbor kid became proficient at killing rabbits by throwing pliers, rocks or anything solid enough to stun or kill them.  My family has a photo of him and the neighbor kids on their homestead in Upton, WY in the 1920s with some of the kids holding dead rabbits and others holding dead chickens with a dead rat in the foreground.  It's amazing how much things have changed in just a few generations.

There's a picture of me back in the '80's with bottle caps that spelled PEP_I. Cruel times indeed!

Last edited by Banjo (2013-05-05 09:55:58)

whosasailorthen wrote:

I was shot by my bother... no big woop.  Still have the scar on my arm.

My brother - who will read this and gnash his teeth eventually - has kid war wounds all over his body and yes, I was sometimes implicated. The blasting cap shrapnel in his backside still sets off scanners. Mostly, though, he's a spaz.

Well, Dirck, if you need a handy weapon you can consider my advice... a guy with a gun you know how to deal with - that's expected - but a guy with a hatchet... now THERE'S a guy to be scared of.   Keep one in you car... guaranteed to scare the bejeezus out of nearly everyone, particularly if you can do a good Charles Manson look.

What brand is your tomahawk, Emm?  Coldsteel?  I can't see springing for a Benchmade.

Fled wrote:

What brand is your tomahawk, Emm?  Coldsteel?  I can't see springing for a Benchmade.

Both are from ColdSteel.

I personally prefer the shovel as nobody can fault you for carrying a shovel...

Last edited by Emmeran (2013-05-06 11:25:59)

Another tip I'd like to pass along to my High-Street brethren is how to sneak a gun past security. I go and get a decorative Mexican plate with a gecko or some shit on it. I place my 9 mm. on it  and cover it with shredded lettuce, cheese and a big fucking glob of sour cream. If security takes notice of it, you quickly warn them that the plate is very hot and they will typically pass it through.