Goons With Guns

These repulsive Republican Rambo wannabe’s make me gag.  Creepy looking “Pub” pukes that take photos of themselves standing before display rakes of firearms such as the likes of Lauren Boebert, Marjorie Taylor Greene and the junior Trump Brat. It has a tendency to make me and some of my veteran comrades in arms do the head shakin’ eye rollin’ move whilst snickering at their lame attempt to look macho. The videos of them are even more of a hoot what with the threatening sound effects of rounds going off and reloading.  What a manly maneuver for a campaign poster for these extremist 2nd amendment assholes who look more like deer caught in the headlights than surly looking bandoleros looking for a shoot-out at the OK Corral.  Although, It is possible that the 2 Lady Representatives may have more underarm and chest hairs than Brat Jr.

My brother and I along with our cousins were born and raised in the Northwoods of Minnesota where hunting and fishing are generationally ingrained in our DNA.  Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s in our neck of the woods meant you lived on fish and wild game all year round. For many of us, the rod & reel, rifle and shotgun season ran from January 1st - December 31st.  Most of us had firearm safety classes and were registered with the NRA before we even reached puberty or had gotten a driver’s license, although there were probably a few exceptions. Our respect for the land and what it provided was never taken lightly.  There is a treasure trove of cherished family pictures from our lake cabins and hunting shacks of all of us contributing to the stringers of fish and the white tailed deer that would be split up amongst the families for survival.  In all those pictures, there isn’t a single one even remotely similar to the ones those 3 stooges have menacingly displayed.  We learned respect from the elders and passed it on to our youngins.

After High School, I became ensconced in the mid 60’s military complex and firearms got a bit more serious. My steady progression of firearm use was taken through normal channels.  Since you don’t take off running before you crawl, wobble and run, my graduated steps with gun barrel instruments of shelled projectiles went from BB’s to .22’s to 4.10’s to 12 gauge to 30.06.  For you aficionados out there, you can imagine the adrenaline flowing through my sensory system when the government put an M16 rifle, 20 rounds lock & load and said, “Let’s see what you got!” Well, it was a walk in the park.  This weapon was shorter than my BB gun and didn’t weigh any more than my .22 and less than anything else in my arsenal.  I knew I would not have anything like this in my real life.  Unfortunately, I was so good with it, the government was willing to send my ass to the Louisiana bayou for covert training.  It was tempting, but all I was ever interested in with firearms was to put food on the table.  Ironically, I ended up in Vietnam anyway with an M16 always within reach, hoping and praying we would never need to use it as our preferred weapon of survival.  As for me, those 3 numbskulls showing off in front of their display of armaments are just goons with guns and the laughingstock of the real grunts that I never got to know, but was proud to have served with in Vietnam.  Stay tuned…..!

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