A Love Story and Guns
I finished Doris Lessing's The Marriages Between Zones Three, Four, and Five today. I don't think I've ever read a stranger love story. Oddly enough, I don't think I've read a better love story. If you have an open mind, then I highly recommend it. It made me laugh on one page, then angry and frustrated on another. And, of course, the true test of any love story: did it make me cry? I'm not going to deny getting teary-eyed at my work while I was covertly reading it instead of dealing with the small stack of paperwork on my desk.
The shooting range was super busy this evening when we went after dinner. I kicked Jason's ass. He took the Rutger 9mm with him since it hasn't been shot in forever. He sucks with the Rutger because he's so used to the .40 Glock. At least I wasn't the worst shot in the room. A girl had come in there with her husband or boyfriend right before we got there. It was pretty obvious she had never shot before because her target had bullet holes all over it in no particular pattern. Usually, I'm stuck up in a room with a bunch of guys who do competition shooting. I don't even know if I could hit anywhere on the target if it was twenty-five yards back.
The shooting range was super busy this evening when we went after dinner. I kicked Jason's ass. He took the Rutger 9mm with him since it hasn't been shot in forever. He sucks with the Rutger because he's so used to the .40 Glock. At least I wasn't the worst shot in the room. A girl had come in there with her husband or boyfriend right before we got there. It was pretty obvious she had never shot before because her target had bullet holes all over it in no particular pattern. Usually, I'm stuck up in a room with a bunch of guys who do competition shooting. I don't even know if I could hit anywhere on the target if it was twenty-five yards back.