Click Bang, Motherfucker
Guns. Bobbo.
The two aren't exactly what we'd call "compatible".
Nevertheless, Pete brought Laura, Bopha, and me to the shooting range in Bethlehem. I've been shooting a couple times prior, but it was always at an indoor range with a variety of pistols, and a couple times firing a 20-guage in Tim's backyard. So I knew, at least in a general sense, what I was doing. Moreso than Bope, who had only shot once before in Ryan's backyard, and Laura, who had supposedly never shot before.
Pete's dad brings us out to the range after a proper gun safety schpeal from Pete. Now I know little to nothing about guns. Pete is a varitable encyclopedia of gun knowledge. When he gets bored, or even when he's not, he's learning even more than he already knows. If you make the mistake of talking about weapons, Pete will jaw on for literally hours at a time about it. You always learn something new when you talk to Pete about it.
So we get out there at about 1:00ish and set the array of firearms on the table. We were the only ones there, later to be realized that it was because it was fucking cold. The reason why I'm a music obsessor and could never be like Pete is because I have absolutely no aim whatsoever. If it's not a first-person shooter video game, then you're at risk wherever you stand. With my horrible aim, it's anyone's guess at how I was so good at paintball. Example: I was the first one to fire. We first shot the .22. We had a coffee can with a couple apples on top of it for targets. The .22 was fun to shoot. It had precision shooting and ultimately no kick at all. And according to Pete, it was one of the most accurate guns in the world. So if you miss, you know it's your fault. Not only did I miss, I was shooting in a whole other range. If I could've counted the times Pete said "High", I'd run out of breath. I fired off two clips of the .22 and walked away with only one bullet hole in the can. Bope steps up with the .22 and she misses too, but is a lot closer than me.
Now it's Laura's turn. And as I said, this was supposedly her first time shooting. She says she had never even shot a gun before. Now, I say supposedly because... She takes the .22, loads a clip, lines up her first shot... One shot, nails one of the apples perched on the can. Everyone was like "Whoa!"... Her second shot. SCHOOM! Nails it again, dead red. At this point we're just like "WTF". Third shot... smacks the coffee can.The entire clip goes like that. To this moment, I firmly believe that there was no way that that could've been just her first time and be that accurate.
We cycle through shooting the handguns--a 9mm, Glach .45, revolver, as well as others. Each was fun to shoot, my personal favorite being the 9mm. But after we used the handguns came out my favorite of the day, my coupe de grace, if you will, ... the 12-guage shotty. We didn't shoot no puny apples or coffee cans with this thing. All about shooting clay pidgeons. Now, Pete had explained to us how difficult skeet shooting was. He explained how it's done, yadda yadda. Pete goes first, with his dad throwing the pidgeons. I'm going next, and since I've had the worst shot of us all that day, what're the odds that I'm going to even hit any of the pidgeons, everyone was thinking (including me). Pete's dad throws the first one. BOOM. The thing gets wrecked. Everyone's like "Whoa!"... He throws another one, BOOM... Blown to pieces. He throws another one ... BOOM ... Grazed it... Of the four shots I took, I hit 3 of them. I was a natural at skeet shooting... and it's a good thing I came away from the range with something to be proud about.
Quote of the day: "Well at least your safe if a mound of dirt attacks you" ~ Pete's dad ... saying that to me about my horrible aim...
Continuing with the topic of my horrible aim, in Pete's info: "Bobbo is a threat to the broadside of barns everywhere" ... It runs in the family I guess.
So that was an amusing afternoon. We all agreed we'd have to do it more often, except on warmer circumstances.
...And of course a post like this would be no good without viewable material...
Any militant would be proud ...
Me and the .22 didn't get along....
Laura and the .22 got along just fine apparently
Bopha with the .22
Bope shootin' one of the handguns
Pete blasting the 9mm
Me with my weapon of choice
Shooting pidgeons out of the sky (You see the clay pidgeon in there? That's right. You don't. Because I already blew it up. Hah!)
Bopha with the 12-guage (love the action shot it captured)
Obligatory group photo...
The two aren't exactly what we'd call "compatible".
Nevertheless, Pete brought Laura, Bopha, and me to the shooting range in Bethlehem. I've been shooting a couple times prior, but it was always at an indoor range with a variety of pistols, and a couple times firing a 20-guage in Tim's backyard. So I knew, at least in a general sense, what I was doing. Moreso than Bope, who had only shot once before in Ryan's backyard, and Laura, who had supposedly never shot before.
Pete's dad brings us out to the range after a proper gun safety schpeal from Pete. Now I know little to nothing about guns. Pete is a varitable encyclopedia of gun knowledge. When he gets bored, or even when he's not, he's learning even more than he already knows. If you make the mistake of talking about weapons, Pete will jaw on for literally hours at a time about it. You always learn something new when you talk to Pete about it.
So we get out there at about 1:00ish and set the array of firearms on the table. We were the only ones there, later to be realized that it was because it was fucking cold. The reason why I'm a music obsessor and could never be like Pete is because I have absolutely no aim whatsoever. If it's not a first-person shooter video game, then you're at risk wherever you stand. With my horrible aim, it's anyone's guess at how I was so good at paintball. Example: I was the first one to fire. We first shot the .22. We had a coffee can with a couple apples on top of it for targets. The .22 was fun to shoot. It had precision shooting and ultimately no kick at all. And according to Pete, it was one of the most accurate guns in the world. So if you miss, you know it's your fault. Not only did I miss, I was shooting in a whole other range. If I could've counted the times Pete said "High", I'd run out of breath. I fired off two clips of the .22 and walked away with only one bullet hole in the can. Bope steps up with the .22 and she misses too, but is a lot closer than me.
Now it's Laura's turn. And as I said, this was supposedly her first time shooting. She says she had never even shot a gun before. Now, I say supposedly because... She takes the .22, loads a clip, lines up her first shot... One shot, nails one of the apples perched on the can. Everyone was like "Whoa!"... Her second shot. SCHOOM! Nails it again, dead red. At this point we're just like "WTF". Third shot... smacks the coffee can.The entire clip goes like that. To this moment, I firmly believe that there was no way that that could've been just her first time and be that accurate.
We cycle through shooting the handguns--a 9mm, Glach .45, revolver, as well as others. Each was fun to shoot, my personal favorite being the 9mm. But after we used the handguns came out my favorite of the day, my coupe de grace, if you will, ... the 12-guage shotty. We didn't shoot no puny apples or coffee cans with this thing. All about shooting clay pidgeons. Now, Pete had explained to us how difficult skeet shooting was. He explained how it's done, yadda yadda. Pete goes first, with his dad throwing the pidgeons. I'm going next, and since I've had the worst shot of us all that day, what're the odds that I'm going to even hit any of the pidgeons, everyone was thinking (including me). Pete's dad throws the first one. BOOM. The thing gets wrecked. Everyone's like "Whoa!"... He throws another one, BOOM... Blown to pieces. He throws another one ... BOOM ... Grazed it... Of the four shots I took, I hit 3 of them. I was a natural at skeet shooting... and it's a good thing I came away from the range with something to be proud about.
Quote of the day: "Well at least your safe if a mound of dirt attacks you" ~ Pete's dad ... saying that to me about my horrible aim...
Continuing with the topic of my horrible aim, in Pete's info: "Bobbo is a threat to the broadside of barns everywhere" ... It runs in the family I guess.
So that was an amusing afternoon. We all agreed we'd have to do it more often, except on warmer circumstances.
...And of course a post like this would be no good without viewable material...
Any militant would be proud ...
Me and the .22 didn't get along....
Laura and the .22 got along just fine apparently
Bopha with the .22
Bope shootin' one of the handguns
Pete blasting the 9mm
Me with my weapon of choice
Shooting pidgeons out of the sky (You see the clay pidgeon in there? That's right. You don't. Because I already blew it up. Hah!)
Bopha with the 12-guage (love the action shot it captured)
Obligatory group photo...