Thursday, January 15, 2009
My loving mother and father decided to let me have a bb gun when i was younger if i promised to be careful with it and not shoot any animals i didnt plan on eating. This worked out great for me so i had no problem making the promise. Little did i know at the time that setting up targets over and over again would get old real quick. So i set out a huntin stuff i would eat if i killed, however, most things wouldnt sit still long enough so i figured draggonflies didnt really count. After a very long day of hunting and probably ten thousand or so bb's later i headed in for the night. Three or four days go by and my mom realizes our outside light on the utility pole has went out and calls the electric company to come fix it. The next day the guy (stool pidgeon) shows up to fix it. He is super nice to mom and told her she probably wouldnt have to pay for it since it just failed. Well, then the very nice jerk decides to come to the door and tell me and mom he believes he has found the problem. He then proceeds to pull from behind his back the old light bulb. Holding it up right in front of our faces he then shakes it and it makes a great little rattling sound. Then good ole "stooly" turns it over in moms hand and dumps a couple of bb's out of it. After that day i decided that bb guns were dangerous and i should probably let mom keep it. Plus my toe still hurt from putting the barrel on it and pulling the trigger to see if it would hurt. It did!!