Yep, that's right, CW took yet another trip to the great green north this weekend, and I've got to say, it's warming to me, just a little bit. The whole, drinking around a campfire and roasting burgers, dogs, and s'mores while pounding beers is something I could get used too. Sure, locals probably don't roast s'mores on the reg, but I don't see why not. I mean if you're going to snack you might as well snack over an open flame. And sure I still can't quite get my head around why it took a 40 minute trip (which basically felt like we'd driven halfway home) to find a Dunks and get a simple ice coffee, and getting used to driving 60 mph on country roads at night with Moose just hanging out by the side of the road is still a little un-nerving, and I'm fairly certain I had an allergic reaction to well water, but all that aside, its not that bad.
Plus, I got to fire my first gun! Yea I know, shocking that a liberal, corporate middle manager, and internet blogger like myself has somehow made it 27 years without feeling compelled to pack heat. Weird, right? Well it was true, until Saturday.
The weapon of choice was a .45 mm Springfield, the location, an abandoned sand pit. Not exactly Vermont weaponry, but we made do. We set up 4 cans and went to town, and I'll be honest, I lost all respect for bad guys in movies. No respect left. It's just not that hard. I'm not saying I was an ace sharpshooter or anything, but I pinged the cans a few times, and even when I missed, I would have still been able to hit a human being if I'd needed too. And this is my first time shooting, extrapolate that to like a 5 year career as a movie bad guy, and I'm pretty sure I'm capping asses on the reg.
I mean what gives guys? I was just watching National Treasure and Nicholas Cage is like 20 feet from the bad guy firing off rounds at him and he missed like 8 times! Shit, you give me 3 shots and I'd have put down that dude, just make sure the round are pure silver, apparently he's a vampire or some shit.
