Sunday, June 5, 2011

A first time for everything

Enter scene: roomie tells me his brother wants to go shooting, I say, Great!  We take almost an hour packing up just about every last shooting related goodie we have and set off.  Then, right as we pull in to out favorite plinking spot, it hits me like a retarded drunken monkey.  I left my box of 100 12 guage shells at home, almost 18 miles away.  Crap.

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