My buddy Bill from West Virginia has been after me for the longest time... He wants my baby in the worst way. He'll be moving here with his beautiful wife in a few weeks to take a job on the railroad here with me, one of the reasons he came down last week. And still he's relentless in the pursuit of my baby.
My baby just happens to be a six-digit serial number, Springfield Armory, Glass-bedded National Match-Grade M-1 Garand I've had for a lot of years, won a shitload of service rifle competitions with, and quite frankly has been with me for a lot longer than my ex-wife and a lot more reliable.
Bill, I'm sorry. I love you like a brother, but you're still not getting my M-1. Ain't gonna happen. I'll be poor, destitute, living in a refrigerator box under a highway overpass, but I'll still have my M-1.
Like Charlton Heston once said, "From my cold, dead hands!"
Anyway. That's my baby Bill. You ain't getting her!
Looking forward to seeing you in a few weeks after you and the missus get down and settled!
Photos, pissing and moaning Copyright 2009 Thomas J Wolfenden
6 comments:
I won't but that first pic could be used to get many points across.
VI: I thought so myself!
Tom, don't let him near the thing, but feel free to give him the "angry bees" that come out of the business end of it. That way he can fully appreciate the best it has to offer. ;)
Ed
Ed: I fully intend on it if he gets any closer!
Ranger, don't kid yourself, he is ONLY coming for the gun! ;)
Leazwell: Yeah, I know... He still isn't getting it!
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