w00t!
So I'm slow and didn't realize that Thursday May 29th is the night I fly out to Dallas to crash Tiff's house for a few days and then as the penny dropped, I freaked out wondering if we're going to make it home from the airport in time to watch LOST. Clearly, there is something terribly wrong with me. El TiVo will help us catch up anyway so it's not like a fifteen minutes delay is going to kill me. I shall just rejoice that I get to watch with a fellow obsessor! YAY!
I was going to go to the beach because the weather is gorgeous but I can barely type or keep my right hand on the wheel. It doesn't hurt, but it feels like all the muscles in my right arm have been sucked dry of any energy. Why is that, you wonder? (OK, I know you don't care, but I'll tell you anyway...) Because I SHOT A SHOTGUN today, baby! Yes, I liked it. In fact, I liked it very, very, very much. Big guns make me happy. :p I told my instructor: "This is going to knock me down on my ass" and he didn't even flinch, just handed me the slugs. As I was loading the first one, he yanked the shotgun out of my hand and then I saw him heading for the guy next to me... He was bleeding profusely from the mouth. He's in the military or something... I know he said he's an... MT? Anyway... another guy in my class brought his own shotgun from home and this isn't the standard police Remington, it's a custom-made one with a grip, it's basically a gigantic handgun. Our instructor specifically told him and the class to never, ever raise that type of shotgun to your face and try to shoot it like a Remington because it can take your jaw clean off. So the idiot was lucky after all that all he got was a seriously slit lip and a lot of blood dripping down his chin.
It reminded me of my first time riding on the bumper cars when I was waiting for an empty one and I got it after a kid hit his mouth after a collision and was spitting blood. Once the stupid ass went away to get an ice pack, it was my turn to shoot. My instructor is about a foot taller than I am and when he moved behind me, I stupidly assumed he was going to hold my shoulders to help me because... let's face it... I'm a chick in a vneck and ballerina slippers and I look about as deadly as Bambi's mother. He just growled: "Cheek nice and tight!" so I leaned into the shotgun and BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM! I couldn't really feel the shock in my shoulder because of all the adrenaline (I just wanted to do it again and soon) but about the time I got back to my car, I realized I can't hold my bag in my right hand and it didn't even have bullets in it anymore.
Shoulder soreness aside, I'm ready for the Apocalypse now that I know how to load slugs and how to hold a Remington and not blow my mouth off.
PS: I might want to not wear vnecks when the Apocalypse comes though because today I was standing next to a guy who was shooting some sort of modified Beretta and his empty casings came out at a weird angle and kept hitting me in the head and the neck (they're hot... I have minor round-shaped burns on my neck that look like bizarro hickeys) while I was shooting. One of them landed in my cleavage and luckily I was reloading my own gun when it hit cause I think I would have accidentally killed someone otherwise.