Neanderpundit

This is the target. Download the file, print as many as you want, practice.

Again: I do not want your best target after you shoot fifty!! I want you to practice all you want, then tape up two targets and give me ten rounds at 25 feet.

Any pistol caliber. Score your own and mail the score to mhardig-at-aol.com

We are scoring the point of impact; if the center of the hole is in the nine ring but the border crosses the line, it’s a nine. The center of the hole is the operational bit. Shooting to take place this weekend, scores in by monday PM, scores posted tuesday. I expect at least one honest 100.

Oh, crap:

Iron sights. Unsupported. I’m gonna use a 22, but I’ll accept anything, as I said, the point of impact is the governing factor. Under 12″ barrel. Auto, revolver, anything’ll do.

Here is an interesting piece about a well loved wrestling coach at Skyview high School. He’s giving up his wrestling gig, after doing such a wonderful job of coaching the kids for so may years. He’s gonna stay on to teach math. Another coach is also giving up her coaching position.

Now read…. The rest of the story.
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Inspired by this: (Warning: Double bagger gag alert, swallow your coffee before clicking on the link)

I was speaking with an old friend about weapons bans and the idiots who love them, and my friend said “I cut Feinstein and Brady a lot of slack because of the personal tragedies they’ve been through. It doesn’t make their attitudes right, but I can understand how they acquired them”

Well, I don’t.

I know about personal tragedy, folks. A couple of years back, on coming home from work, my Uncle Richard, my dad’s youngest brother, confronted his youngest son Charlie. Charlie put a shotgun to Richard’s chest,a nd blew a hole in my uncle big enough to put your arm through.

He then marched into the house, told his mom what he’d done, and announced they’d all be dead by nightfall.

Thankfully, cops got him before he could do more harm.

I wrote and read the eulogy. I carried the coffin out of the church, and into the hearse. I carried it the place of burial, and I stood at attention when the local honor guard removed the flag from his coffin and folded it, and gave it to his widow. See, my uncle Richard, toward the end of his life, looked almost exactly like my dad. Uncannily so, in fact, so when I helped close the lid on his coffin, it was like burying dad all over again. It was pretty traumatic. It still is. Richard had a hard life, like many of his generation, and he deserved all the comfort and relaxation of a ripe old age. He’ll never see that now.

And having confessed all this, I have to admit to being somewhat misty-eyed. And sad. And i wish I could undo what has been done, but I cannot.

But I do NOT wish people would take guns away because something bad happened to me; and there is a damned good reason for that.

I am not a screaming moron.

Drug and alcohol abuse combined with untreated mental illness killed my uncle Richard, not a shotgun. Had a shotgun been unavailable, Charlie might have used an axe, a pitchfork, a car. The weapon is completely immaterial; the root cause is NEVER the weapon, and the root cause is the ONLY thing that has gone completely unnoticed in the minds of the morons that would remove our rights.
So, to the feinsteins, the bradys, the morons of this nation: Fuck off. Get wise. Come back when you’ve grown a brain.