I reckon some fellas can’t go cry to their wife, their dad or their brothers cause they were told by said relatives to STFU and go on…

I reckon he’ll have to go pout to mom again about how he can’t cipher out how a .270 works.

Nor could he strike a match with a flame thrower.

I reckon a fella that can’t use a .270, he’d say it’s a failure.

I reckon a fella that can however use a .270, Well…He’s too busy hauling meat out to fuss about BC’s to his momma or the deaf guy at the bar…

I reckon we could all find weaknesses in something.

I reckon some fellas find it in themselves.

Carry on gentleman..

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