Dang it feels good to be a Gangstah

So we go up north to mg's cabin this weekend. No power. No noise. Not much of anything. Rode up with mg-enjoyed our conversations up and back. Enjoyed greatly my Big John's steak and onion, although mg thinks it hurts to eat one. Donald and broinlaw came up later. Have to hike back to the cabin, all that. I love it there. So quiet. Peaceful. No noise.

Having fun Friday night, then it hits. Like a freight train. 9:00-I gotta lay down. (See, the girls were out of school all week sick. I felt SO bad for their little bodies.) Bad. So I got it. Saturday morning-on the couch-long johns, jeans, two long sleeve shirts, sweatshirt, sleeping bag. With the chills and sweats. Bad. Sleep for five hours. Great weekend away. But I got up that afternoon, and felt a LOT better.

So mg brought his buddy's 22 semiautomatic pistol. I never shot one before, but the only thing I can tell you is I felt like a gangstah.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You are sure one bad a## son of a B%@#$.

I remember the first time I shot a 22 pistol, I didn't get it far enough away from my head and I couldn't hear for a half hour.

BS1
January 15, 2008 at 7:59 AM
Anonymous said…
Hit you like a friegh train did it? Bummber deal dude. Hope you are up and working soon. I want to read how your phone interview went. Dish.
Oh, yea and I hope your broinlaw does not get sick; my sisinlaw would really not like that. GERMS YECK. TMP
January 15, 2008 at 4:20 PM
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