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The_Dunedan · 11-28-2008, 09:14 PM

I need an answer to a question. Perhaps some of you folks can help with this.

Why do people who lack the skill to hit anything beyond 100 yards, who live in an area where the "monster" is a 220-lb whitetail, and who are -NEVER- going to hunt elk in Colorado, buy or create 7lb rifles in chamberings like .300 Winchester Magnum?

Ow.

One of the idiot inbred neighbors brought in his rifle to be "line-bored" today, by which I eventually gathered that he wanted me to sight it in. The rifle in question was a Savage Mdl 10 of approximately Silurian vintage, which he also decided he wanted a new scope for. Grand.

So now, in addition to sighting in this portable catastrophe, I have to sight it in from SCRATCH. No chance that he's just getting a second opinion and that the rifle might actually be driving tacks, oh no. Just an optical boresighter and 20 rounds of .300WM in a rifle that had also had about 1-2/3 inches of it's stock amputated and replaced with a horridly insufficient buttpad. This because the owner weighed approximately 325lbs.

I, on the other hand, weigh about 180lbs, and let me tell you what, the very small percentage of that which makes up my right shoulder is fucking KILLING me. The dude's rifle should at least get him a deer, but if he brings it back in I'm going to shove it up his ass sideways.

Why would he bring it in, you ask?

Aah, say I, because this moron (like all of his friends and relations) cannot shoot. He cannot shoot because he decided to be macho and buy this monstrosity, and then "customize" it into an even bigger monstrosity. The result of which is a rifle which beats him so badly that, even though he only fires it perhaps ten times per year, he has developed a twitch as big as Dallas. So naturally he can't hit a bull in the ass with a broom.

So I fully expect to see him again tomorrow or Monday (even though we're closed on Monday, which everyone and his dog knows) or even on Sunday (when EVERYTHING is closed around here!), asking me to "Shoot this raahful in fer me, I kaint seem t'git it ter shoot none. I kno' ye shawt 'er in yesturdee, but maybe them ringziz wurked loose. I buy ye 'nuther boxuh bullits ferit.

Today, when I was sighting the rifle in, this jackass brought his entire family (who he'd brought to the shop with him) outside to watch. They stood around and laughed while I brutalized myself with this Inquisitorial engine of contusion ELEVEN TIMES.

The Rotundimus Maximus Stultorum who brought this thing in probably hasn't fired it eleven times in the past 18 months!

Why do people do this to themselves? And why do they then do this to -me-?

11-28-2008, 09:14 PM	#1 (permalink)
The_Dunedan Junkie	Aaaaargh.... I need an answer to a question. Perhaps some of you folks can help with this. Why do people who lack the skill to hit anything beyond 100 yards, who live in an area where the "monster" is a 220-lb whitetail, and who are -NEVER- going to hunt elk in Colorado, buy or create 7lb rifles in chamberings like .300 Winchester Magnum? Ow. One of the idiot inbred neighbors brought in his rifle to be "line-bored" today, by which I eventually gathered that he wanted me to sight it in. The rifle in question was a Savage Mdl 10 of approximately Silurian vintage, which he also decided he wanted a new scope for. Grand. So now, in addition to sighting in this portable catastrophe, I have to sight it in from SCRATCH. No chance that he's just getting a second opinion and that the rifle might actually be driving tacks, oh no. Just an optical boresighter and 20 rounds of .300WM in a rifle that had also had about 1-2/3 inches of it's stock amputated and replaced with a horridly insufficient buttpad. This because the owner weighed approximately 325lbs. I, on the other hand, weigh about 180lbs, and let me tell you what, the very small percentage of that which makes up my right shoulder is fucking KILLING me. The dude's rifle should at least get him a deer, but if he brings it back in I'm going to shove it up his ass sideways. Why would he bring it in, you ask? Aah, say I, because this moron (like all of his friends and relations) cannot shoot. He cannot shoot because he decided to be macho and buy this monstrosity, and then "customize" it into an even bigger monstrosity. The result of which is a rifle which beats him so badly that, even though he only fires it perhaps ten times per year, he has developed a twitch as big as Dallas. So naturally he can't hit a bull in the ass with a broom. So I fully expect to see him again tomorrow or Monday (even though we're closed on Monday, which everyone and his dog knows) or even on Sunday (when EVERYTHING is closed around here!), asking me to "Shoot this raahful in fer me, I kaint seem t'git it ter shoot none. I kno' ye shawt 'er in yesturdee, but maybe them ringziz wurked loose. I buy ye 'nuther boxuh bullits ferit. Today, when I was sighting the rifle in, this jackass brought his entire family (who he'd brought to the shop with him) outside to watch. They stood around and laughed while I brutalized myself with this Inquisitorial engine of contusion ELEVEN TIMES. The Rotundimus Maximus Stultorum who brought this thing in probably hasn't fired it eleven times in the past 18 months! Why do people do this to themselves? And why do they then do this to -me-?