Sunday Funday Whiskey and Gun Day II: Guns, Gods and Glories

Last year's Sunday Funday Whiskey and Gun Day was pretty awesome, but it was a bare-bones event. We had a table, some stuff to shoot, and some guns. That was it. There were no mascots, no explosions, no vehicles flipping over--aside from some well-framed poses, it was basically just people shooting guns at things. We were determined to change all that with the second incarnation, and we did.

First, we had to bring Dana back from Thailand so she could be at this year's festivity. I don't know how many of you are well-versed in extradition treaties, but drug jails are a real hassle. Red tape as far as the eye can see! But it all worked out and we shoved her in the back seat and tried to take pictures:


We warmed up by shooting "skeet," which I think is how they spell it. It may be "sqeit." You know that gun jargon. Cryptic as hell.



After we had killed all the sqeits, it was time for the real purpose of the whole weekend: to put the stuff we bought on a couch and shoot it over and over again. Here's the whole gang before we got started. A rag-tag bunch, ha ha ha!


Oh wait! Joe decided that since it seems that I can't have a phlog without a lobster in it, he would bring one along and make it the mascot of the day. Meet Lobster Nicole Smith:


Then I took a picture of myself looking tough with a "thirty-eight special," which is named after a band. The only thing I hit after taking this picture was the side of the hill. Darned close-range killing machines. No good for target practice. Unless you're targeting something from one foot away, execution-style.


Looking at what you've just shot is alot more fun than you might think.


And yes, that is a tub of Country Crock. I was raised on that shit.

Two hours later, the couch was dirty and shotten!


And I laid down in front of it even though it was totes gross. Continuity comes at a price, people.


Part two of the evening involved drinking fancy beer and sitting around a fire trying to be funny. In short, what America was made for. Greg's pretty good at it.


A smart thing to do at this point in time is to take some four-wheelers out for a spin in the woods. Joe and Dana put on "helmets" (I'm spelling it phonetically) before going out for what they said was a safety precaution. Your insurers thank you, Joe and Dana!


Anyway, Joe has been tempting fate and laughing at God for way too long, so Jesus decided that it was time to give him a wake-up call! By "wake-up call" I mean "ATV rolling over on top of you and your life hanging in the balance," of course. It didn't totally wake him up, though, because he could still walk, kind of.


That's our Joe. Last year: setting face on fire. This year: risking spinal injury. Next year: coma. FOR OUR AMUSEMENT.

Later, Ana got suited up for a spin around the rink:


And then the next day Katie bought a Kitten from the Kountry Store.




BONUS BONUS BONUS WE BLEW UP A TV AND IT'S ON VIDEO


Joe and Matt running away might be the best part of the thing.

PS: My camera died right after I got back.

PPS: Katie got this great one of me practicing perfect gun safety after I executed a can of whipped cream:

PPPS: Katie sent a video of me shooting a jug of soda and then dancing. It's probably the best thing ever.