Posted on 02/28/2006 4:19:30 PM PST by El Gato
I moved to Florida in October. In November, I bought my first gun at Buck's Gun Rack in Daytona Beach. By December, I'd exchanged my first gun for my second and was well on my way to becoming one of Florida's 350,000-strong army of concealed-weapons citizens. In January, I received my $139 permit, and I was there.
...
By the time I squeezed the trigger I was so afraid of death, humiliation and failure that I could barely open my eyes. I decided this was a good thing, considering I was also the only person on the range without some kind of eye protection.
I decided not to even attempt to hit the target, focusing instead on getting used to the feeling of something exploding in my hands. There was no sense of power or authority as I blasted blindly; the experience was horrible. ...
Throughout most of my gun ordeal, I told myself that I would return the thing once the experiment was over. That notion has come and gone. ... I visited the Cocoa Beach factory where my gun was made and took a tour while they repaired it. The company was founded by the same Swede who invented the infamous Tec-9. ...
I am now a gun owner and probably will be for the rest of my life.
...
My gun likely causes me more problems than it's worth. During most of my day, it is annoying, distracting and downright illegal. ... I often wish someone would just steal it.
Barring that, I don't know what it would take to part me from this weapon. It seems few people are willing to give up their guns once they have them. They are hard to take back.
(Excerpt) Read more at orlandoweekly.com ...
Obviously, only the government can save us, and just as obviosly, it's not doing enough.
As I said, a 32 gallon trash bag projectile vomit alert on this one.
Full blown neutered panzy alert.
What is this. An episode entitled "Brucie Buys a Gun"?
I question whether or not this event, or any other described in the story ever happened.
A .32 Caliber handgun is a wimp or pimp gun.
And he is still a sniveling, cowardly liberal.
The second paragraph itself is grounds for denying this individual a handgun due to psychological problems.
Amen!
Not only does the guy deliberately disobey NRA Range Rules, but also experiences some very nonconventional responses when handling a firearm. Very disturbing, actually.
"I question whether or not this event, or any other described in the story ever happened."
You too??
If he doesnt want the gun he can take it to the nearest Police Station and turn it in.
Guns arent hard to get rid of.
He should get rid of it fast too before he hurts himself with it.
The author has the right to be a namby-pamby when it comes to gun ownership. The 2nd Amendment is always there, though, so that also gives him the right to become a non-namby-pamby in the future. It's his right.
His first one was an AMT .380. But even that heavy gun, light caliber was too much for him and in the end he picked the .32.
Maybe he's a pimp, but probably not. Other than a pimp for the gun grabbers perhaps.
"By the time I squeezed the trigger I was so afraid of death, humiliation and failure that I could barely open my eyes."
There are some for whom mere chronological age is not a sufficient qualification for firearm ownership. Like this guy.
As the Beatles used to sing, "Bang, bang, shoot, shoot". Happiness is a warm gun.
I smell a whole lot of Bravo Sierra in this story. My bet is he has nothing to get rid of. Never did.
Let's make that three. I think he made up a good chunk of this story. This guy wears sandals to shoot. I bet he looks swell!
A weird crowd of old Jews and rednecks
Not very accepting of others, eh?
took a tour while they repaired it
What needed repairing? Did it get tired of this jerk and stop working for him?
Yep, sissified as they come!
Stories like this one are an old leftie trick.
LIES.
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