Growing up, I remember my father's closet as a forest of guns. He had an old AK, an SKS, an M16, some sort of shotgun, and a couple other guns I can't recall. Then there was the 4 different .22s. But my favorite was his giant, shiny, nickle-plated 45 Magnum. MMMmmm.
He used to take me shooting, and that thing would almost knock me over every time. We used to buy teddy bears and cabbage patch dolls at the D.I., and then shoot them full of holes.
My favorite was when we went shooting in the winter. My brother and I would make a snowman and put balloons full of red paint inside it. Then when we shot the vital places... wa-la... realistic effects.
Ah... fond memories. I'm so glad I got a big manly-man for a dad.
Now he uses his arsenal to terrorize all my boyfriends. Heh.
He used to take me shooting, and that thing would almost knock me over every time. We used to buy teddy bears and cabbage patch dolls at the D.I., and then shoot them full of holes.
My favorite was when we went shooting in the winter. My brother and I would make a snowman and put balloons full of red paint inside it. Then when we shot the vital places... wa-la... realistic effects.
Ah... fond memories. I'm so glad I got a big manly-man for a dad.

Now he uses his arsenal to terrorize all my boyfriends. Heh.




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