Attempting to Channel Annie Oakly

So I shot a gun for the first time at the urging of a Swede, and, no, the irony of that statement hasn’t escaped my notice. Although, from what I’ve heard, Swedish people own a lot of guns. I don’t know about you, but not exactly what I think of when I think of Sweden.

Anyway, back to the topic. I shot a gun in my Aunt’s backyard while I was on a mini road trip across the southern US. As much as it pains me, the often times uber-liberal, to admit it, the pistol was kind of…okay, a lot of…fun to shoot, even though I am a HORRIBLE shot. I kid you not, no one knew where the bullet went exactly, but given that it was her backyard, in view of a church, I really hope it didn’t hit anything (or anyone) important.

The shotgun was terrifying to fire, and I most certainly will not be doing that again. The kickback and loud sound scared me so badly I screamed, which entertained everyone. Needless to say, I will not be doing that again any time soon, but mostly because of pride. The next time I shoot a gun I want to actually hit the target.



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