B-Lowe and I went to a 3-Gun match today.
I accompanied him in my pink shirt, pink earrings, pink ear protectors, pink shellac, pink lip gloss and pink eye protection. I looked like I had been hosed down with Pepto Bismal.
After a few stages, we came to a particularly difficult stage, designed to distract the Marksmen.
Mature, full-grown, non-adolescent, Marksmen.
Men, not children. With me?
I'm here to provide a little weapon for my gal readers--the next time your husband pokes fun of women, this post is for your reference. Come closer!
Before they called the stage ready to start, the guys went to each phase with their pretend weapons. This stage called for pistols, rifles, and shotguns. Here, Joel is simulating a rifle for us, thanks, Joel.
This guy in the blue shirt is on the Airforce Shooters Team. It said so on his fancy-schmancy shirt. He is working with his pretend pistol here. It's important to prepare yourself before a challenging stage. They worked their plan.
Now that you understand what's happening, I'll just let you browse.
Welcome, to The Land of Make Believe.
They even make the gun noises here in The Land of Make Believe.
It's an intense zone to be in. It takes concentration to make those "PIT-ZEW!!" sounds. It takes a special roll of the tongue.
I could have lifted up my shirt and yelled "Hooters!" It matter-eth not.
It would have fallen on deaf ears. Sorry for saying, 'Hooters'.
Bless their hearts...
and all their little gun parts.
"I'm proud of you, I'm proud of you, I hope that you're as proud as
I am proud of you, I'm proud of YOUUUU...
"I hope that you are proud of you too!"
I miss that show. Mr. Rogers will live in my heart forever.
Lady Elaine Fairchilde