Lost titles

There's been an awful lot going on in the last week or so... Nearly every day has been blogworthy, which means there was little to no time to do so.
Anywho, I'm home again now and have decompressed in front of the TV for a while. Lets see how many I cen remember before I give up and go to sleep...
(I still have readers, right? leave a comment, will ya'? I feel lonly when you don't say anything...)

Skippy's First Gun Lesson:

Last Saturday, I finally took up the offer of my good friend Andy to teach me to shoot. I'd been timid about it in the past, but, well, as long as I'm rediscovering myself, it's the perfect time to try something new.

It was a great experience (for the most part [more on this later]). Yeah... it was heavy and loud, but... that didn't seem to matter anymore. Once he'd shown me what to do (and especially what NOT to do) and I finally had the pistol in my hand... I don't know that I have the words to describe the feeling. I was suddenly responsible for an incredible power! (Spider-man vibes??)

.... and I've totally lost my train of thought.... I really should just turn my messanger off when I'm blogging... let's see here.... umm..
ah yes, the power in my hands...

It wasn't exactly a power trip... more like adding another vertebra to my tiny backbone.

So then he broke out the rifle! It was heavier, louder, and so much cooler! (and I have pictures!) I lost track of how many rounds I fired into the icy river, so I know my targeting record was pretty low. But it felt great the 3 times I managed to hit the plastic bottle!

Then there were the 'tracer' rounds. It was kinda hard to see in broad daylight, but they light up when fired, which was really cool (when I was able to spot them). This is when things got interresting... I could have sworn all of Andy's shots had gone into the river/ice/dirt bank, but alas, he reloaded a few tracers for me to give them a shot (yes, I'm sorry but, pun intended). As I lined up to fire, I noticed a faint ... something not quite right..

"Dude... is that fire?"

Andy took off running. I hesitated. The old Kevin said, "woah.. no way I'll be much help with that.." To which I replied, "like heck, I'm gonna be the sissy man to stand here doing nothing!" And I set the rifle down and took off after him... and nearly killed myself trying to keep up. The terrain was not so smooth as he made it look.

Anyway, we did our best to stomp it out, but it spread just a little bit faster than we could put it out, so the fire department was called, and we went back to Andy's to chill/recover with Tucker, a pizza and Fight Club.

Sorry folks, that's all you get tonight. I'm shot.

------[edit] Oh, wait! I also got pictures of Andy's melted boots! His heavy duty, leather, Navy boots melted and cracked in the toe after much fire stomping. His gel insert thingies were a little different shape too! He was no longer "gellin'."