Even though my wife and I have been together for almost three years now, we had never actually been on a date to the gun range before today.
Wife+guns+paper targets-48 bucks=MURICA 🇺🇸
My wife had her .22 Walther, and I had my Titan Tiger .38 special (referred to as “the backup to the backup of firearms.” So basically the Tim Tebow of guns).
Except that’s not fair to my .38, because it can actually hit something. No offense to Tebow (I’ve always been a fan of his).
Twelve rounds from the .38 and ten rounds from the .22. Not bad for an old man, eh? (Okay I’m only 30, but I just like saying that).
My wife is no Yosemite Sam herself. It had been about five years since she went shooting, but all of her shots hit paper:
I didn’t take a picture of her target, though, because it would dull the luster of mine 😉
Two dogs and two handguns is all the security system we need.
No, a .22 is not the most imposing handgun in existence, but that’s okay. You can still put someone down with it.
Besides, we also have a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun. Just in case (more like “just because.”).
Because what, you ask?
Because WRONG HOUSE, PUNK!
As John Wayne said in El Dorado, “Can’t miss with that!”