It started as a great day at the range. Smoke was flying, and every shot was hitting in the black (a success I fully credit to all of you who have helped me on this forum). Two tables down a guy showed up with a shiny black case with a very shiny black slug gun, scope, and all the fixin's. As he left, the range officer made me feel pretty good, "Hey, you're shooting much better groups with that 'old thing' than that guy was, and for a couple thousand dollars less." I was happy and loving the attention. Then, just as my head was beginning to swell... SNAP... I cracked my ramrod. :redface: :redface: :cursing:
I am such a moron...
I am such a moron...