Thursday, March 6, 2008

Don't Piss Me Off, I Can Shoot A Twelve Gauge

Yes I can. A big, boy gun. As of yesterday when I went shooting for the first time in my life and I am now addicted. Big day out, on a bus with loads of people I didn't know - my idea of hell, but I was so bloody distracted by the double barreled gorgeousness I was playing with (safely of course) I didn't notice a thing. My perfectionist/competitive streak was standing out like the stink off a skunks ass, but I didn't care. For the first time in a long time I felt about twelve feet tall and as strong as a freakin' ox.

The thing that irritates me so much about depression is that it makes you (well, me or one) feel like a weakling. Weak as a wet paper bag and it just goes on and on and on and then you start believing it. You think you deserve the shit and the crapola that everyone dishes out. But yesterday... Ha! Not a fucking chance. I saved one of my cartridge shells as a memento, not to mention my kick ass score. Second in a team of men, shooting with a man's gun because they tried to give me a "lady" gun and I made a fuss.

I rocked.

Today I am back home, and was quite enjoying my flat upon arrival. Now I am pissed off and hungry. Those online boys are driving me nuts by either being demanding or all whimsical and blowing hot and cold at the same time. (She throws her hands up in despair to illustrate the point) Give me a break I can shoot a shotgun.

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