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Paladin · October 21, 1999, 11:31 PM

...and no one has yet mentioned "THE GUN WRITER".
We all know him in some way. Writes a monthly column in "Guns and Lying" magazine. Wears some sort of western costume that puts one in mind of a bad imitation of Porter Waggoner. Wouldn't remove that Steson from his head for his own funeral going by. His picture (taken fifteen years ago) stares out steely-eyed from the glossy page adjacent to the byline where he's referred to by some honorary or elected title. Most folks don't know that the picture is more recent than when he last served in that capacity, and that there is usually a good reason why. But the stories he can tell! Friends, there's not a politician alive that can tell a windy one like our boy here can. He's a true legend in his own mind.
He's also the guy that has never tested a gun yet that he doesn't urge everyone to go out and buy. Proclaims it will certainly revolutionize the shooting world and if you (the proverbial consumer sheep being led to the blood letting) don't go out and buy this little marvel; well, doom, despair and ashes upon your crown of ignorance. So out you go and buy it, along with all the accessories that accompany such a purchase. And when you get out to the range? Yep, you guessed it, when it does happen to go off you couldn't group it inside a number two washtub at five feet.
Yes sir, he's a gun writer extraordinaire. He goes out to the range in that shiny new customized Blazer with enough aftermarket lighting to light up an astronomer's black hole. Takes him three and a half hours to unload the thing, even with the aid of his ever-worshipal croonies vying for a free box of .45 Long Colts or that pair of slightly used Gargoyles. Gets everything set up only to blow one of his Oehrler screens into .475 Limbaugh oblivion on the second round at ten feet out. Darn!
All knowingly he turns to his entourage and mumbles something about the sights being off. The entourage, reminding one of that legendary trio of intellectualism know as Moe, Larry and Curly nod in unquestioning agreement. They pack up the Blazer and head over to that Mexican eating place where once again he tells his tales of derring-do to his attentive audience. All except the waitress of course, who heard the tales when they were new and knows that this guy was no place around when the deal went down. Besides, he's a lousy tipper.
Gotta go guys.
Take care and God bless to all,
Paladin

[This message has been edited by Paladin (edited October 22, 1999).]

October 21, 1999, 11:31 PM	#14
Paladin Member Join Date: August 28, 1999 Posts: 62	...and no one has yet mentioned "THE GUN WRITER". We all know him in some way. Writes a monthly column in "Guns and Lying" magazine. Wears some sort of western costume that puts one in mind of a bad imitation of Porter Waggoner. Wouldn't remove that Steson from his head for his own funeral going by. His picture (taken fifteen years ago) stares out steely-eyed from the glossy page adjacent to the byline where he's referred to by some honorary or elected title. Most folks don't know that the picture is more recent than when he last served in that capacity, and that there is usually a good reason why. But the stories he can tell! Friends, there's not a politician alive that can tell a windy one like our boy here can. He's a true legend in his own mind. He's also the guy that has never tested a gun yet that he doesn't urge everyone to go out and buy. Proclaims it will certainly revolutionize the shooting world and if you (the proverbial consumer sheep being led to the blood letting) don't go out and buy this little marvel; well, doom, despair and ashes upon your crown of ignorance. So out you go and buy it, along with all the accessories that accompany such a purchase. And when you get out to the range? Yep, you guessed it, when it does happen to go off you couldn't group it inside a number two washtub at five feet. Yes sir, he's a gun writer extraordinaire. He goes out to the range in that shiny new customized Blazer with enough aftermarket lighting to light up an astronomer's black hole. Takes him three and a half hours to unload the thing, even with the aid of his ever-worshipal croonies vying for a free box of .45 Long Colts or that pair of slightly used Gargoyles. Gets everything set up only to blow one of his Oehrler screens into .475 Limbaugh oblivion on the second round at ten feet out. Darn! All knowingly he turns to his entourage and mumbles something about the sights being off. The entourage, reminding one of that legendary trio of intellectualism know as Moe, Larry and Curly nod in unquestioning agreement. They pack up the Blazer and head over to that Mexican eating place where once again he tells his tales of derring-do to his attentive audience. All except the waitress of course, who heard the tales when they were new and knows that this guy was no place around when the deal went down. Besides, he's a lousy tipper. Gotta go guys. Take care and God bless to all, Paladin [This message has been edited by Paladin (edited October 22, 1999).]