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Growing up I was maybe an 8th of a mile away from the dairy farm my grandparents lived so I walked over there a lot if I didn't ride my bike. One day I was walking over there and a car pulls up next to me, the side window rolls down, and this priest goes "Hey lilttle buddy where you going?" I tell him I'm just going to the fam up ahead (which I'm half way there at this point). He says 'Well hop in I'll give you a ride'. I tell him no thanks and keep walking. He kept insisting and I kept politely telling him that I was good going on foot. He eventually drove off and I didn't think much of it. This was in a very rural area in Kansas. Small Catholic towns sprinkled everywhere and you kind of knew everybody, especially the priest of each town. This guy was not a priest of any of the churches of any of the nearby towns. When I was in high school my friends and I spent a lot of time running around the previously mentioned vast rural areas with guns, shooting things up we'd find discarded in ditches of the dirt roads or whatever we had laying around. One friend of mine and I were at my house shooting at an old barbeque grill propane tank. He was shooting a 1911 .45 pistol and I was shooting a Ruger super single six .22 revolver. We would often take turns shooting each others guns and my revolver was a favorite for everyone to practice their Clint Eastwood gun twirl. Well, on this day my friend apparently forgot that he wasn't using my gun and after he shot the 1911 a few times he twirled it on his finger. Halfway around it went off and a quarter sized hole blew up on the ground maybe a half inch from his right foot. He calmly handed his gun over to me and said "I think I'm done for the day"
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Mar 17, 2023 18:43
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| # ? May 11, 2024 09:57 |
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there's one in the matrix, saw than one
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Mar 17, 2023 18:49
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