It's true: despite my flaming liberalism, I own guns. From left to right, a 30-06, a .22, and a 16-gauge pump-action shotgun. Besides their obvious uses during zombie attacks, they're all for hunting. A few days ago I was drawn in the lottery to hunt elk here in Arizona. I'll be using my flintlock rifle, the only gun I own that isn't in my gun safe (it's at my parents' house in PA). The hunt isn't until next November, but already my dad is making big plans on coming out and going along to watch me hunt. (I should also note that most of the father-son bonding between my dad and I happened on hunting trips.)
Handguns, on the other hand, terrify me. Whenever I see a cop walking around with a holstered handgun, I tense up. I guess it's because my rifles and shotgun were designed for killing animals, whereas handguns were designed for killing people.
Song of the Day: R.E.M. - Lightnin' Hopkins
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