In my 37 years on the planet, I've probably not really liked guns for about 34 of those years. I mean, they kill things, and I've never really been a huge fan of killing. That is, until I met with my arch nemesis, Mr. Skunk, about a year and a half ago on my new property. For those of you who don't know the story, here's the Reader's Digest version: When we first moved into our country home, my sweet boxer, Tess Larue, went outside at 5 am to do her morning business. My dog is enough reason to believe in God. She's a ball of unconditional, sweet love, uber-friendly to all creatures. She probably saw a shadow lurking on the side of the house and thought, "hey, that could be a friend...I should greet that new friend in the U-formation (this is when she is so happy that she greets you with both her ass and her face simultaneously)." I can see her doing this exact thing, and then Mr. Skunk looks at her and immediately sprays her with his skunkified butt juice in hasty retort. Regardless of what actually transpired that day, Tess was not only physically harmed, but I believe she was emotionally scarred. She was just trying to be a neighborly little gal, and Mr. Skunk went all prick-face on her. Not cool, Mr. Skunk. Not cool at all.
Is this a reason to kill him? Perhaps it's not quite enough, but when I saw him on the back two acres at 4 pm on a sunny September afternoon, I knew that he was up to no good. They're nocturnal, and he was taunting me. Just staring at me with his little skunk eyes, as if to say, "the sweet little Dane puppy is next, beyotch." Since that day, I've vowed to shoot him. I actually looked at him and said, "I will kill you, you little sh*t."
The timing is right, I guess. Since Obama's been in office, gun sales have gone up in a crazy way - mainly because there's been talk of his administration trying to outlaw certain types. Even if I didn't always aspire to having a gun, the notion of the RIGHT to have one being taken away was enough to make me want to buy one. Yesterday. First, it was that dirty little skunk. Then, it was our current President who pushed me over the edge to finally get one.
So, I am now the proud owner of a brand-spanking new, beautiful rifle with a kick-butt digital scope. I plan to go to my local military base and take a class on proper care, firing, and respect of my firearm. And then I shall show Mr. Skunk that I mean business.
Next on the list? The Chanel gun-shoe, of course.
