lucky punk

2010's local adventures found us at the gun range, with the usual suspects.

Aside: it is truly rare to find people that won't drive you crazy after a few hours, let alone a few days.  You know, people who will stop to let you take funny/beautiful pictures or who understand the need to eat something new and different when you are actually some place that is new and different or who indulge in stunts/stops so we can say that. yes, we did it and no, you probably never will.  People who have mental check-lists of things to see/do/eat and who agree that there's enough time to sleep when you're dead.  I have a renewed appreciation for AnCe and Nish.  Who better to shoot things with?

So: gun range in Gormley (where.  the fuck.  is that.).  FUN!  We shot three 9mm handguns (Sig Sauer, Smith  & Wesson, Glock), a 45mm Glock (my fave) and a Smith & Wesson .22 Rifle.  Of these, the Glock 45 is my favourite.  It's heavier, but I think because of that, it feels more solid.  Regardless, the Glocks were the better gun - a long first trigger squeeze, but smooth and consistent.  Leave it to the ...Austrians?  Huh.

I got ready for my introduction to the 12-gauge fabarm shotgun.  Understand a little of my trepidation: I knew someone who dislocated her shoulder from the recoil of a shotgun.  I had seen the bruising that had crept all the way up her neck.  As I waited my turn, the person in front of me actually lost her ear muffs from the barrel of the gun smashing into them.  Oh.  Dear.  God.  Ance and Nish had already gone and they were happy as clams.  I was last to shoot.

A new (very appropriate zombie) target is posted.  Here's how to stand: left foot in front, lean forward, ass sticking out, place the stock on the meaty part of your right shoulder, round your body around the barrel - hug it like you love it! - left hand on the barrel, right cheek on the cool, smooth stock.  Close my left eye, shuck the barrel back, adjust my shot, slow trigger squeeze and BLAM!  In the left cheek.  Recoil?  Who cares, it's still alive.  Shuck the barrel, the empty case comes flying out, adjust my sight and BLAM! Skims the right ear and jawbone.  Shuck the barrel, adjust my sight, one shot left, make it count.  Blam!  Through the throat.  The instructor laughs as he takes down the target.  "You took his head clean off!  Nice job!" And he's right.  If it wasn't for the white border, the actual zombie would be in two pieces.  God, that felt good.  And totally badass.