Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Hey blog dogs,
Seeing as this is my first post " avoided for for many years in some effort to deny the geek that lives inside the man" I figure it`s only fitting to explain my title and possibly newly aquired Cottage reputation (Drunk with guns).....mmm... even typing it feels manly.
The origin of the name goes back to last sping when after a hard day of work at the family cottage. A friend and I were relaxing by the fireplace with a few cold ones. I... cleaning a few rifles and my buddy (The Bull) on an incline playing with the remote for expressvu as if it were a time limited gift from the gods.
As all men know, gun cleaning is a walking around...scoutin the area type chore as you are defenseless at this time and need to be alert.
As luck would have it, while looking out the back window of the cottage I spotted one of the squirrels that had decided the inside of this building was his home. Keep in mind, this was 11pm and he was likely mesmorised by our 10 million candlepower spotlight on the corner of the building. Naturally, seeing as I had a fully cleaned rifle in my hand....The window of opportunity was as open as it ever would be. Well the varmint got away ( mind you only to be brought down at a later date by my son Devin in a move so fluent and quick with his pistol that if witnessed would have sent Doc Holiday back to his practice in dentistry) but we figured we would disintegrate a few items with the rifle seeing as we were out there with a pocket full of shells anyways.
About 3 hours after the last shot was fired... as we were just about to call it a night there was a nervous knock on the door. The Bull opened it assuming it was my uncle Norm or some other friend but it was not to be...It was the QPP. A little Frenchman with a tiny yet rotund chick rookie. Paul, not being fluent in french, or english for that matter passed the ball right over to me. They asked us...(a couple of over 6 foot rebel type dudes)..... if we had heard any gunfire in the area, all the while standing on spent shotgun shells with broken bottles highlighted by, as luck would have it, our 10 million candlepower spotlight.
I said nope...but not to worry as gunfire was not unusuall in the area, considering it`s a forest and quite legal to fire arms on your own property. The man cop said thanks and that he was just responding to a complaint from a neighbor. The fat chick said to him " Mais les deux sont sou, avec des fusils" ...translation.. "Drunk with guns". Hence the name.
The man cop just rolled his eyes and told her in a condesending yet polite way. "I see no problem here....so...why would you want to start one!!!! ...on I va Claudette...a la maison.."
Need I say more....I think not......
Seeing as this is my first post " avoided for for many years in some effort to deny the geek that lives inside the man" I figure it`s only fitting to explain my title and possibly newly aquired Cottage reputation (Drunk with guns).....mmm... even typing it feels manly.
The origin of the name goes back to last sping when after a hard day of work at the family cottage. A friend and I were relaxing by the fireplace with a few cold ones. I... cleaning a few rifles and my buddy (The Bull) on an incline playing with the remote for expressvu as if it were a time limited gift from the gods.
As all men know, gun cleaning is a walking around...scoutin the area type chore as you are defenseless at this time and need to be alert.
As luck would have it, while looking out the back window of the cottage I spotted one of the squirrels that had decided the inside of this building was his home. Keep in mind, this was 11pm and he was likely mesmorised by our 10 million candlepower spotlight on the corner of the building. Naturally, seeing as I had a fully cleaned rifle in my hand....The window of opportunity was as open as it ever would be. Well the varmint got away ( mind you only to be brought down at a later date by my son Devin in a move so fluent and quick with his pistol that if witnessed would have sent Doc Holiday back to his practice in dentistry) but we figured we would disintegrate a few items with the rifle seeing as we were out there with a pocket full of shells anyways.
About 3 hours after the last shot was fired... as we were just about to call it a night there was a nervous knock on the door. The Bull opened it assuming it was my uncle Norm or some other friend but it was not to be...It was the QPP. A little Frenchman with a tiny yet rotund chick rookie. Paul, not being fluent in french, or english for that matter passed the ball right over to me. They asked us...(a couple of over 6 foot rebel type dudes)..... if we had heard any gunfire in the area, all the while standing on spent shotgun shells with broken bottles highlighted by, as luck would have it, our 10 million candlepower spotlight.
I said nope...but not to worry as gunfire was not unusuall in the area, considering it`s a forest and quite legal to fire arms on your own property. The man cop said thanks and that he was just responding to a complaint from a neighbor. The fat chick said to him " Mais les deux sont sou, avec des fusils" ...translation.. "Drunk with guns". Hence the name.
The man cop just rolled his eyes and told her in a condesending yet polite way. "I see no problem here....so...why would you want to start one!!!! ...on I va Claudette...a la maison.."
Need I say more....I think not......
