Prepare to be shocked:
I, Laura, the avid anti-gun person who swears there will never be a gun in my house, went shooting. Sam has a shooting qualification test next week, so he had to go to a shooting range once to practice (and I got dragged along). Now, since I know you are all wondering, I wasn't converted by any means, but it was kinda fun. I almost peed my pants when we first walked in because it was SO loud, but I got used to that. I never, however, really got over my trepidation of touching the gun.
Don't I look like a she-beast? (That is one of my friend's made up words to describe really manish women)
We call him the Terminator.
It may look like I am aiming . . .
but apparently not! I was not the best shot.
Don't I look like a she-beast? (That is one of my friend's made up words to describe really manish women)
We call him the Terminator.
It may look like I am aiming . . .
but apparently not! I was not the best shot.














