They broke me. I can't stand being made to wait five bloody days just to buy a sodding firearm any more.
"Instant Check" my furry arse.
So, I have taken the Texas Concealed Handgun License course in order to by-pass that miserable excuse for mass public self-gratification that leftist politicians piously refer to as the "NICS Instant Check" and I maintain is a bureaucratic way to legally reduce LawDog to a second-class citizen.
Where was I? Oh, yes. I'm here to tell you, I have received an education.
Probably not the one intended, but an education none-the-less.
And I have Reno as a witness to this, by Gawd.
Where to start?
In this class was a young man who had completely shaved his head and who took every question posed to the class by the instructor as an opportunity to divulge not only the fact that he was in the Army, but that he was an Iraq War veteran.
This kid was somewhat taller than me, and running what Reno estimated to be about 300 pounds. I call it 320, myself.
I had no idea that Iraq was located in "a unique geographical location which caused the moon to only come out six nights each month."
This tidbit of trivia was after Ricky Rambunny announced that since there was no electricity in Baghdad, there were no electric lights on, so Night Vision equipment was useless.
However, opined young Rambunny, the uselessness of NVG's was off-set by the fact that you could simply stay in a black room for an hour or so, and your eyes would be adapted enough to see.
An incredulous Reno asked, "So ... dark-adapted eyes are enough to see at night, but night vision gear is worthless?"
Yes, replieth our Squeal, who proceeded to expound on the unique location of Iraq which only allowed the moon to appear for six days each month.
This was followed by the story of Rambunny falling twenty feet off of a misplaced fast rope, but heroically climbing to his feet to kick in the door -- "so he wouldn't let down his buddies".
Personally, I figure if my butt had 400 pounds riding on it (320-pound Rambunny + 80 pounds of gear), and I just fell twenty feet -- call a front-end loader to scrape up my screaming, weeping, sucking-my-thumb-and-shrieking-for-Mommy carcass and take me to the hospital -- because the only thing I'm even going to consider kicking after that sort of incident is the bucket.
Either curious or appalled -- I'm not sure which -- I asked Young Rambunny what his MOS was. "Military Intelligence", sayeth him. Goodness, sez I, what's the the designation for your MOS and where'd you go to AIT?
"Some guys go to Huachuca, some go to Ft. Meade."
Yes, but which one did you go to?
Rambunny discovered an urgent need to go to the class instructor and offer his services as an assistant -- said need preventing him from answering my question, I might add.
Kee Riced All My Tea.
Not only did this twinkie have two -- count 'em: two -- folding knives in his trouser pockets, but he brought a ruck-sack to the firing range which had two fixed blade knives attached (one taped to the chest strap and one tied to the side of the ruck).
This ruck itself was a wonder. Brand new, not a speck of dirt or wear anywhere on it. For that matter, both of the knives riding on the ruck itself had pristine blades and totally unmarred Kydex sheaths.
Of course, in order to shoot, Rambunny had to ceremoniously don his Hatch Nomex Flight Gloves, black in colour (in use by professionals around the world!)
I would have been considerably more impressed with Young Rambunny if he'd been able to keep all of his shots on the target at ten yards.
Him loading an empty case into a female students magazine by mistake while trying to "help" her made an impression on me all right -- probably not the one he was going for, though.
And when he told me that the EOTech holosights he used "in the sandbox" could be rotated on their mount to enable the operator to "see around corners", I was floored.
The absolute worst part, though, was a tie between him: announcing that the tooling used by Beretta to make M92 barrels was only good for 250 barrels, after which they had to completely refit the factory; or him announcing that the M4 was better than the M16, because the M4 was lighter -- so the bullets went faster.
I don't know how many of my poor, innocent brain cells that man slaughtered during that misbegotten 10 hour class just by opening his cakehole.
Bad as that was, Rambunny was the comic relief.