You Explain It

For some odd reason I have this sudden urge to rush out and shoot zombies.

I can't explain it. For certain I need to get my butt to the range. My trigger finger has an itch.

Stephen

Lock & Load

I'm bored to death with work. I need to shoot, something. Perhaps I'll lock the shop and climb into my truck and find some zombies to tag.

I might even drive over to my friend, Duke's house and see if I can drag him away from his firewood pile.

 Last year Duke recorded a great double on fleeing democritters which I recorded as a single since both critters pants had dropped to ankle level. Fair is fair.

 We might stop and grab, Senior as our driver. He performs well behind the wheel. I'll try and keep a rifle out of his hands as he has a tendency to fire full auto which is a true waste of a now precious resource. So we'll put his more fire controlled wife, Glock Mom on shotgun duty. She's a far better shot than her jittery husband.

First though, we'll need to drop by the courthouse for tags. This is serious business. To tag a Zombie critter one must jump, after of course you confirm a solid hit, from the moving vehicle and place the tag just so on the fallen critters ear and then snap a picture for the state. Tag placement and clear photos are then submitted to the local courthouse. When validated ten points are awarded. Fuzzy snapshots are voided.

Wish us luck.

My trigger finger has a deep itch.

(I write the laws to suit my purposes.)

Stephen

Trash

Florida is windy, it is important to remember this fact.

Each and every morning when I arrive at my place of business, I step from my truck and begin my routine by cleaning my parking lot of wind blown trash. I have a nice collection of plastic market shopping bags. Daily I routinely bend to pluck plastic soda bottles and little brown sacks which contain glass bottles and aluminum beer cans.

I refer to these items, the trash, as 'democrat tracks.'

A fella once asked me why I call this roadside eyesore, democrat tracks. I explained if one were to follow the trail of trash it would, inevitably, lead one back to its source, and more than likely, the author of this discarded junk would be a democrat.

I further explained my business is located across the street from a city park. I watch this park. Within the park you will find democrats. I observe these democrats discard their trash on the ground...not within the large green trashcans placed about ten feet or so through out the park. Then the Florida wind gently takes this pile of rubble and sends it directly across the street to my business where tomorrow morning I will again walk about and gather their mess.

I hate it.

And just think - we're not allowed to shoot the sorry SOB's on sight.

Stephen