Friday, June 27, 2008
The Well-Regulated Militia
We drill at my condo, Ronald Reagan, Phase 2, every Thursday.
Handguns over the heart.
Time was a problem, since most members have early digestive problems
to work out. We settled on 11, knowing that it’d make us hungry for
Chef Marcus’s noon spread.
The night persons wanted 2, but most members nap around then.
Everything’s been glitch-free except Lou M’s weapon discharged, barely
missing his big toe.
Oscar-the-German cracked, “Should've been your dick!”
“How would I know?”
We drill at my condo, Ronald Reagan, Phase 2, every Thursday.
Handguns over the heart.
Time was a problem, since most members have early digestive problems
to work out. We settled on 11, knowing that it’d make us hungry for
Chef Marcus’s noon spread.
The night persons wanted 2, but most members nap around then.
Everything’s been glitch-free except Lou M’s weapon discharged, barely
missing his big toe.
Oscar-the-German cracked, “Should've been your dick!”
“How would I know?”
