Pistol

S&W .38 Spl

Wasn't able to ride this morning owing to a nasty case of bruised ribs but took the .38 out for a spin. Shot at 10 and 20 yards against an aggressive square of white paper and it's larger ally, a feed sack.

Did better at the longer range, oddly, then switched over to .22 to do deadly work among assorted cans and a hard to see cigarette box on a stick.

Where's the Target?

I love shooting and today reminded me that pistols are especially enjoyable. Why? Well, they certainly bring the explosive action up close, and I like that because it's exciting. They're also neat in themselves, as firearms - then again, I'm sympathetic to that. Not allowed to own them in England, unless you're a bad guy and have one anyway.

That reminds me of some man in a pub years ago who kept poking me in the ribs, saying:

Some Man: I've gotta '9'.
LSP: Pardon?
Some Man: I've gotta '9'!
LSP: Excuse me?
Some Man (poking vigorously): A '9', a '9'!!
LSP: Ah, a '9'. I'd like a pint of Stella, please, barman.

The '9' holder ran out of steam, fortunately; perhaps the fabled '9' was fictional.

Cheers,

LSP