A few days before Thanksgiving, E.S. mentioned in passing something about having gone on a hunting trip as a child.
“You’ve shot a gun?” I asked, incredulous.
“Honey, I’m from Iowa,” he replied. “I’m actually a pretty good shot.”
After we had consummated the ecstasies into which the idea of E.S. butchly shooting a gun had sent me, we continued the conversation. “Wait a minute,” I said. “Your dad is a member of the National Rifle Association, right?”
“Does that mean he has a gun in his house?”
“Actually, he has three. If you want, when we’re there for Thanksgiving we can go to the shooting range and you can shoot them.”
My former ecstasies were as nothing compared to the delirium into which this idea sent me. Though I wasn’t quite sure how E.S.’s parents’ spirit guide would feel about his charge’s being a member of the National Rifle Association, I figured maybe E.S.’s father just hadn’t mentioned it in their conversations.
Alas, it turned out that the shooting range was closed on Thanksgiving, so I’m going to have to wait til Christmas Eve to shoot a gun. However, I did get gun safety lessons, and all my enemies had better keep this picture of me in mind for future reference.
your shirt is…. interesting
sounds like fun….
1) shirt not nearly as bad as
Now, now… don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re actually planning to fire the weapon!
Sorry, that was almost automatic. I’ve actually had some firearms training from the police academy (long story). So I was taught to keep my finger outside the trigger guard unless I was about to fire (or might be about to fire, depending upon what a suspect did). It’s to prevent an accidental discharge… of the gun, I mean. 😉
So, if we dated, and I told you that I once had a job that involved carrying a badge and a gun, that would drive you to heights of ecstacy? If so, I’ll have to make note of that, in case we’re together in some other lifetime! 🙂
Kinda fun bein’ a ‘plubican, ain’t it?
Hey! Don’t you be pointin’ that thang in mah direction!!
Only a snob like me would disapprove of this photograph more than I disapproved of the orgies and porno shoots combined.
Also – and if I’m right you’ll be forced to delete my comment, and I won’t mind – I believe that there is an errant apostrophe, attached to the word “charges.” However, I might be completely mistaken, which wouldn’t be surprising since I’ve been working for 19 hours on a particularly difficult song for my thesis.
Isn’t the Tongue mightier than…?
Nice piece though.
hot. the shirt too.
Faustus, you may not have been New York City’s only musical theater-writing, knitting, porn-appearing gay cheerleader, but you’re certainly New York City’s only musical theater-writing, knitting, porn-appearing, gun-toting gay cheerleader.
The SHIRT!?!?!? What about that FURNITURE in the background?!?! Jesus Christ, people, priorities!
Wicker? The horror, the horror.
Also, there are other people out there who get just as tingly as Faustus at the mention of Smith & Wesson, Colt, and Baretta: The Pink Pistols.
However, I still hold out hope one day of having my own phaser….
I think that furniture is comparatively tasteful by Jersey Shore standards.
And I’m not just saying that because I’m afraid of getting shot.
Anonymous #1: The shirt is last season, H&M, and I promise it looks really good on me.
lou lou: It was certainly more fun than stepping on the pie.
Anonymous #3: See response to Anonymous #1.
Jess: I was actually mid-fire in this photograph (though I had already checked to make sure there were no bullets in the chamber or the other thing the name of which I forget), which explains my finger position. And yes, in fact, the thought of you in a badge and a gun is driving me wild, and I have no idea what you even look like.
Len: The thing is actually pointed in the direction of all Republicans, metaphorically speaking. Now I just need to load it with plutonium.
HN: You’re not saying all that much, as only a Republican could disapprove of orgies and porn shoots. As for the apostrophe, the subject usually takes the possessive marker in such gerundive phrases (e.g. “I disapprove of his shooting the gun” rather than “I disapprove of him shooting the gun”), but I hope the song has turned out brilliantly.
i. bendito: If only you knew.
jon: Back atcha.
Brian: You may be correct, but just in case there is another, I’m carrying the gun around with me to rectify the situation.
David: The furniture is, I believe, indigenous to the Jersey shore, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Except maybe shoot it.
Jeffrey: The day you and I join the Pink Pistols together is the day the earth will tremble in fear.
Lauren: I’d never shoot you. I’d just use Enemy-B-Gone.
Okay, gun, shirt, furniture, Republicans. I am stuck on the apostrophe:
Are there not two charges?
There are indeed two charges. But only one of them is a member of the NRA.
I’m sorry. The gun looks tough and all, but the shirt just screams “Less tough! This gun is plastic!” 🙂
If the idea of someone from Iowa with a gun drives you wild, I’d like to point out that I’m from Karachi, and have several family members in the armed forces here. I have, at various times, fired rocket launchers, small SAM missiles, a Kalashnikov, and last night, amused myself by taking potshots at my mother’s old Wedgewood with the AK-47 belonging to my guard.
Does that dampen your scanties yet? 😉
James: I actually thought the shirt screamed “Less tough! I like to take it up the ass!”
Sin: The idea of you, with or without ballistic weapons, has been dampening my scanties for months and months.
Gosh, I always imagined your gun was bigger.
I hope you shot some holes in the wicker.