Well do ya, punk?

I'm sorry. I dropped the ball. I had the perfect rambo moment today, and I didn't even get pictures. But I can help you visualize it:

For months, if not years now, my uncle (a cop) and I have always been masterminding a plan to get out and go shooting with all of his sweet ass rifles. As everyone's pointed out, I've been acting like I only have 2 more weeks to live, so with me leaving, it seemed like the perfect excuse to finally get some lead out.

My uncle picked me up bright and early at 10 o'clock and we set up towards the Pawnee Grasslands. For those of you who don't know where that is, it's a national reserve out east of A Unique Little Town (or Ault for anyone outside of Ault), which is out east of Severence, the quiet town best known for their Rocky Mountain Oysters. Now if you're getting farther out into the country than a town where they're known for their amazing ability to choke down bull balls, you know it's out there.

We make it there and we lay everything out. There's an AK-47, two AR-15s, two police-issue 9mm, and a Dirty Harry style Smith and Wesson .357. It was a step up from the pellet guns of my youth. He runs me through the safety issues with each one, how to work them, then tosses one in my hands and gets me going. It really is amazing holding and firing something that could kill a man. I got a woody. Not really, but it was still fun to work through all of them.

A couple of targets and pop cans later, we loaded some armor piercing bullets into the .357 and let a large metal sheet have it. Those things ripped through there like nothing. Then we tried the normal hollow points, and even with the amazing recoil on the handgun, the rounds bounced off one by one (which probably wasn't really safe, us being 10 yards away and all). Just to let you know that armor won't do shit against some of the stuff they have now-a-days all you robbers-to-be.

We head back to where we set up shop, already satisfied with the day when my uncle says, "You want to Rambo it and get out of here?" Of course I'd been waiting for him to ask that all day. We both grabbed a rifle with two magazines, then each loaded 9mm with 2 mags and strapped them all up. We had everything ready to go, except my ear plugs. I'd worn them the entire day up until that point, and I was having too much fun to stop and go back. We started out from about 100 yards out and started pumping the rounds into the target as we walked up on it. When one clip was empty, we loaded the next. All I heard was ringing. We kept moving forward. When the rifle ammo was gone, we switched to the handguns. My eardrums were literally bouncing in my head. When one clip emptied, we loaded another. We emptied every shell we had, and stopped there, in front of the target that we had thoroughly ripped to shit.

"You want to get some lunch?" my uncle asks.
"Huh?"
150 rounds had just gone off by my head.

So that's pretty much how it was for the rest of the day, but it was absolutely worth it. I still can't hear much of anything in my right ear, but I go to a lot of concerts; I know it can recover.