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Thread: A Farewell to "Collecting" Arms

  1. #121
    Site Supporter Les Pepperoni's Avatar
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    Nov 2011
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    Chicagoland
    Quote Originally Posted by 45dotACP View Post
    Just wait til you start Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. The "Box O' Holsters" is nothing compared to the "Drawer O' Rashguards" or the "Closet O' Gis". And then when you start striking and get the various pairs of boxing gloves, MMA gloves, shin guards, finger tape...

    Those things also smell worse.

    Sent from my XT1585 using Tapatalk
    I just don't wear a rash guard. I figure my skin will toughen up (like my stomach from AIWB)

    You know, like the Soviet "gently padded concrete" mentality...

  2. #122
    Site Supporter Les Pepperoni's Avatar
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    Nov 2011
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    Quote Originally Posted by JAD View Post
    Blood for the blood god.
    Skulls for the skull throne!

  3. #123
    I guess I was lucky: I always loved guns, especially handguns, but realized early on I didnít want them to admire. Iím a perpetual kid with no interest in things I canít play with.

    In my early 20s, I swapped for an S&W 17-3, joined a gun club, and spent every evening after work for the summer of 1984 on a bullseye range poking .22 holes in B8 & B6 repair centers.

    I carried some fairly heavy family obligations in the intervening three decades, where obtaining a new gun meant trading or selling another. But thereís only a couple I regret letting go.

    Now, with an understanding wife, I can afford to indulge a bit and the collection is growing.

    My biggest problem is the internet. I can literally shop for and purchase guns from my sofa. Seems so wrong but feels so right!

    I am, however, stuck in the 80s and double-action revolvers. I did buy a 3913 last year, but Iím still not convinced this whole 9mm autoloader thing isnít just a 116-year fad.

    Looking at the resources available to pistol shooters now vs when I started, thereís really no excuse for not developing good marksmanship skills.

    Back in the day, ranges were all outdoors and in the boonies. The nearest was a 30-minute drive for me. Most were designed for bullseye, so the nearest you could set a target was 50í and often 25 yards. You shared the range with grumpy old farts who regarded anyone under 40 or not shooting bullseye as a pinko sissy. They used to have conniption fits when I cut loose with a .44 Magnum, grumbling how silly it was to hunt deer with a handgun. Training was pretty much non-existent. At least here in Texas, the only competitions were bullseye, NRA Hunters Pistol, and, if you knew the right people, PPC.

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