The youngsters take them to the local range in droves. They can't hit anything they aim at. They give their buddies a poke by pointing out the old fart (me) with the flintlock is out shooting them. I don't enjoy the lateral blast from the flash suppressor when they sit at adjacent benches. Mindless fools they are. Sufficiently annoyed I will pull out the .45-70 or if uber annoyed, the .416 Rigby and pop a few caps. They leave, I laff and carry on.
I am..........disturbed.
Concerning the difference between man and the jackass: some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass. -Twain
