I knew full well that shotguns kick, trust me. It's just that the stock was wet and far slipperier than we realized.
The one thing family gun no one ever let me fire from my shoulder was the 45/70, but that's because it kicks so bad it nearly knocked his shoulder out of joint, and he's got several inches in height and breadth on me ... he was afraid it's knock me clean over!
And I don't need numbers by which to paint, thanks. Gimme the watercolors and some good paper, and I promise not to hurt anyone.
Or, save the cornhusks for me, and I'll teach people how to make cornhusk dolls. That's how I amuse myself at neighborhood parties!







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