I have a bunch of them, but here's the grand prize winner. I had just meet this guy (I was a heavy equipment salesman) to sell him a machine. During the conversation he mentioned he had just gotten back from a Caribou hunt. I asked what kind and caliber rifle he used and how long was the killing shot? He replied that he used a Remington 700, 7mm Magnum and always sighted it in a 1000 yards, and therefore could hold on out to a 1000 yards and be dead on, no need for any holdover. I said congratulations, you have one hell of a good rifle. Barlow
Craziest gun stories you have heard.
- Thread starter Barlow
- Start date
jonbearman
I live in new york state,how unfortunate !
I had an aquaintence of my hunting partner(his idiot brother in law) Who was out hunting one day and he tripped and rolled down a hill. A little later in the day he took a shot at a deer(which he could have never hit in the first place) anyways he pulled the trigger and boom . Now he realized the end of the barrel looked like a flower opening. He goes home and saws off the damage and came out with us a day later and I look at his former bird barrel and there sets a BB epoxied on to the front of the barrel off center to boot. I asked him who sawed the barrel off crooked,he retorted "I did" and I said , have you checked to see if you can hit anything. He said :it'll be alright". He never killed a deer again in his life except with the front of his new Ford truck, Which is a funny story in itself.
Around 1980 I was at a rifle range in NY sighting in a Colt Sauer rifle I had just bought.The guy next to me was shooting a Colt Sauer also so we started talking. He told me he had shot the second biggest bear taken in NY state the previous year. It was 500 pounds and he shot it way back in the woods in the Adirondock mountains. It took him and his 3 hunting buddies 8 hours to get it to where a 4 wheel drive could get to. His 3 buddies said if he ever shot anything that far off the road they would say they didn't know him and walk away. He was serious too!
jonbearman
I live in new york state,how unfortunate !
I used to shoot at creekside gunshop some years ago. They had no range officer till somebody got hurt. Needless to say a young pretty woman was shooting her new .380 auto to get used to it. The range officer had just come from the shop and walks in and looks at everyone and watched her shoot. She would shoot a couple and then rest the gun barrel under her chin with her finger on the trigger. Sooooooo the range officer gently walks up when she shot again and stopped her and explained that he wasn't prepared to clean her brain matter and blood off the fiberglass insulation after she shot herself. He took the time to explain how her safety worked and how to be safe with her gun. She then finished the mag and put her gun away and left very embarrassed, he did tell her to get some firearms training they offered at the shop.
MNFinn
Erik on the Range
Not real crazy, but I thought it was funny.
I was at the local to me indoor range shooting my XD45. It was within the first year or 2 of buying it, and I ended up putting 3k rounds through it in that time. I was shooting decent, having fun shooting double and triple taps, when a couple "interesting" gentlemen came in, thugs might be the best description for them, with a young lady. They could not hit the target at 5 yards, it may have had to do with their holding their guns sideways. Anyway, They thought they were great shots and were cheering each other on and all. When I finished shooting, I hit the button to retrieve my target. I was shooting 10 yards, not far, but decent for SD practice.
When the "gentlemen" saw the 2 inch hole in the head, and 4 inch hole in the chest of the target, one of them turned to me and said "you wid da police?" I just smiled and walked away.
I was at the local to me indoor range shooting my XD45. It was within the first year or 2 of buying it, and I ended up putting 3k rounds through it in that time. I was shooting decent, having fun shooting double and triple taps, when a couple "interesting" gentlemen came in, thugs might be the best description for them, with a young lady. They could not hit the target at 5 yards, it may have had to do with their holding their guns sideways. Anyway, They thought they were great shots and were cheering each other on and all. When I finished shooting, I hit the button to retrieve my target. I was shooting 10 yards, not far, but decent for SD practice.
When the "gentlemen" saw the 2 inch hole in the head, and 4 inch hole in the chest of the target, one of them turned to me and said "you wid da police?" I just smiled and walked away.
jonbearman
I live in new york state,how unfortunate !
How about this one,I went to a hayseed gunshop and looked at what he had and he wanted me to buy this smith in 44 mag for cheap and it looked like new. I asked to look at it,he handed the gun to me and then I saw it, A large bulge in the barrel. I asked what happened to it and he told me I"it would hurt nothing" Needless to say I left. Can you imagine someone selling a high pressure revolver with a bulged barrel. I left sick with concern that some nit wit would buy it and shoot it like that. I remember another one. 3 Laotian kids came in creekside, they were clearly not local young guys. They spoke pretty bad English and it was hard to understand what they wanted. So after a little time they pointed at the ak-47 sporters on the wall rack. He said, I want ak47 full auto. It took Pat their top guy 20 minutes to get these guys to understand that here in new York it wasn't possible to own one. Finally they asked if they could try what they had. The sales guy walks them out to the range and gives them , just 5 rounds for trial. He had to go back in as he had the older kids driver license so he was confident they would return shortly. What he didn't know was another kid went to the car and came back with about 200 rounds. Next thing you know they are speed shooting full 30 round mags. They did it at least 4 times before I realized pat went inside. So I went in and got the off duty cop that worked there and had him come out to stop the mayhem. He was pissed as they were only supposed to shoot 5 rounds and come right back. He pointed to the sign in 4 ich letters prohibiting hip shooting or rapid fire. They played the game they didn't understand. He kicked them off the property for good. This was a gunshow weekend and sure enough they were there trying to buy an ak47. These guys clearly didn't know anything about guns other than they wanted an ak47. So I know almost every dealer there and I tip them off that these guys were loose cannons. Needless to say they went home empty handed.When I see stuff like this it scares the you know what out me. After the incident, creekside closed the free open range to a pay to use with a range officer present at all times. He was a good guy.
There once was a state fairgrounds, and they has several large buildings in the same area for shows and conventions. On a certain weekend there was a large gem stone show, with a lot of high dollar stones. It seemed like a great idea to these two long-time criminals that that would be a great place to rob! They made their plans and each had a cheap hand gun and a mask...after they pulled the masks in place they rushed the front doors and yelled, "this is a stick-up. give us all you got and nobody gets hurt!!" For the next full minute all they heard and saw was slides being racked back, magazines stuffed in and bolts slamming home. There were probably 350 to 400 people with loaded handguns and rifles pointing dead center at them...it seems they entered not the gem show building, but the gun show building. True story!
The 220 swift is so fast if it hits a blade of grass it will explode.
I have another one on a serious note.
I know a fella who was target practicing with a Mosin and surplus ammo, he shot twice and the third went "click" instead of holding in the fire position for awhile and then eject the misfire. (Like I was taught) he laid the rifle on the bench and proceeded to walk to the target to check his groups. And it was a hang fire and it shot him in the back. He survived after crawling to his car but now has a colostomy bag and serious health problems stemming from his injuries...
I know a fella who was target practicing with a Mosin and surplus ammo, he shot twice and the third went "click" instead of holding in the fire position for awhile and then eject the misfire. (Like I was taught) he laid the rifle on the bench and proceeded to walk to the target to check his groups. And it was a hang fire and it shot him in the back. He survived after crawling to his car but now has a colostomy bag and serious health problems stemming from his injuries...
Stolen from another poster on another forum, but very much a classic: (Warning - language is not safe for work, or anywhere else much!!)
How about the little old fella that showed up at the range with the 500 A-Square . . . . . . pistol !
NOTE: This is the no shit truth. I was present and I am relating this to the best of my memory.
An old friend of mine and I were out at the French Creek PA public range about 8 years ago. French Creek was (is?) a pretty nice range with about 12 100yard lanes, a 25 yard pistol range, and an area to shoot clays. We were both working over our Glock 23's and our hunting rifles . . . deer season was only a month away and all of us know that it takes at least 3000 rounds for an ARFCommer to get "ready" for the hunting season. At the time my main hunting rifle was a 1943 Enfield No4 Mk1 that I had purchased at Boscov's for $40 . . . man those were the good old days .
It was getting later in the afternoon and we were getting reay to pack our stuff up. The range was getting crowded and we both had our Ruger MkII's in the Jeep - we were getting ready to head out to our private hunting reserve and bust some small game. Then, about three lanes to our left, a little older fella starts bringing forward his rifle cases and stacking them up at his station. When he finished, he started unpacking his stuff and lo and behold - the first case had what I remember to be an LAR Grizzly or some sort of single shot .50 cal. At this point, all shooting on the range had ceased - this rifle had pretty much grabbed the full attention of everyone on the range.
Before I go any furthur, let me describe this "little old fella". He was about 5' 4" and weighted perhaps 120 pounds soaking wet before a good crap. He appeared to be in his late sixties. He had that particular hunched over stance that told of a life spent working hard outdoors with his hands. The top of his sunburned head was completely bald, but there was a fringe of wild 2-3 inch long hair sticking out at the base of his skull and at his temples . . . kind of a Woody Allen meets Friar Tuck sort of thing. His clothes probably would have stood up by themselves if he had taken them off . . . hygiene was definitely not on this guys list of priorities. He had money (the new Range Rover and expensive weaponry gave it away) but it was completely obvious to everyone assembled that this guy was a real, all-American, true blue psycho. Perhaps the clothes didn't denote insanity, but his constant stream-of-consciousness conversation with himself just gave it away. Here's a sample from memory:
HEHEHEHeeee . . . easy now . . . eeeeeasy . . . it's just a little punch and all the work's done . . . *snicker**snicker* . . . slowly . . don't let little ol' me down . . . squeeze . . . fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck . . . little more . . . . BBBBAAAARRROOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! (sound of .50 cutting loose) YOU SONOFAMOTHERFUCKINSHITBIRDWHORE!!!! A BULLET THE SIZE OF MY MOTHERFUCKIN THUMB AND YOU MISS (slaps rifle and scope) WHY YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKINASSLICKINWHOREMONGERING PIECE OF SHIT I'm TRADING YOU FOR A SACKOFSHIT MARLIN!!! (throws spent casing at target)
After a couple of rounds of this, he finally gave up and set the .50 aside. He pulled out a slightly smaller case and noticing that we were standing right behind him, signalled for us to step up and check out what was in the case. Lying in the case, nestled in foam, was the most insane pistol that I had ever seen.
After talking to him for a few minutes we realized that this guy was absolutely fixiated with owning and firing the most gonzo crazy assed pistols that money and insanity could buy. 500 Linebaugh wouldn't even get a rise out of him . . . if it was designed for a pistol it was by definition boring. The Thompson - Center was initially appreciated, but soon lost its luster. Then suddenly, while crushing .338 caliber bullets into a supermax load for one of his SSK anti-aircraft pistols, he had the idea for the ultimate pistol that would lay it all to rest. Forever. He immediately called his gunsmith (SSK??) and asked if they would build him a .50 BMG pistol. They said (and I qoute) **** NO. No one could shoot it and or even hold it up to fire it . . . they simple wouldn't even consider doing it. The man he spoke to on the phone JOKINGLY said that he should "limit himself to rounds that can fit into a Weatherby magnum action". He was joking, but the little old fella took him at his word.
Research soon showed him that the nastiest, most impressive, and dick stiffening round that could fit into the mammoth Weatherby action was the 500 A Square - - - a .460 Weatherby Magnum necked up to take .50 BMG bullets. He called back his gunsmith and related his new plan. The gunsmith (who by now had probably picked up in the fact that this guy was a loon), told him that he would not build it because no one would or could shoot it. No one (the gunsmith stated) could fire such a device without permanent injury. The little old fella promised proof and hung up the phone,
The next day, he said, he visited his local gunsmith and ordered a braked .460 Weatherby magnum and 20 rounds of ammo. When it arrived, he said that he promptly whacked off the stock right after the pistol grip. Donning a football helmet and a PAST shooting glove, he proceeded to video tape himself cranking off 10 rounds from the bench with this beast. With his hand and elbow still numb (I'm guessing) he proceeded to mail the video to his gunsmith, reiterating his idea for a 500 A Square pistol.
Six months later his local gunsmith called and said that he had received a package. Upon inspection, the package turned out to be a 500 A Square bolt action pistol. It had a 16 inch long bull barrel with an integral brake in all stainless. The black fiberglass stock was reminiscent of the old Remington XP-100 with the pistol grip near the center of gravity so that you could actually hold it up. With the Leupold, it had to weigh at least 10 pounds. It was a single shot . . . you had to pull the bolt out of the rear to load it.
In the shipping box was a note. The gunsmith stated that if received videotape proof of the weapon being actually fired from a standing off-hand position, the gun was free. Otherwise, there were instructions to contact him for billing. The little old fella had never had the nerve to fire it yet and wanted to crank off a couple of rounds from the bench before he broke out the video camera. We were his first audience.
So here we were on a gorgeous fall day, all staring at this beast. The ammo came in a nice plastic box . . . I really didn't believe the old guy until I saw those rounds. It looked like something out of a freakin' A-10. He carefully pulled the bolt out and dropped a round in. He slid the bolt home and applied the safety.
He tried to get situated on the bench, but it was too short for him to get into a position that he was comfortable with. He was obviously completely pant-shitting terrified of this weapon. He knew that it was going to kick his *** into a new dimension of hurt, but it's hard to back out with 25 folks stand around eagerly awaiting your imminent demise.
I donated my field jacket for him to fold up under his elbow and one of the other folks present found a five gallon bucket for him to sit on to get far enough back from the bench. With the front of the stock resting on a couple of shot bags, he took his position behind the monster.
AWFUCKAWFUCKAWFUCK . . . ITS GONNA HURT LIKE SHIT . . . easyeasy . . . <quiver in voice>. . . fuckin crazy *** gunsmiths . . . slow . . slow . . . awwwwwwwwwwww (finger tightening) WWWWWWWWWWW . . . .
BAAARROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!
Fire totally obscured the target and I could feel a punch from the shockwave from behind the old guy. Shit was blow off of benches for two or three lanes on both sides of that massive brake. The old fella was pushed clear off of the bucket and has lying on his back with the pistol in the dirt held in both hands above his head. As the echoes of that shot were still ringing through the trees we all could hear the little old fella say . . .
". . . **** that. I'm paying for this bitch."
Everyone on the range nearly shit themselves laughing.. We laughed so hard that we couldn't even help the little old fella load up his Range Rover. It was a solid hour before we trusted ourselves to drive.
For years after that all one of us had to do was say "**** that" in that little old fella tone of voice to send us into gales of laughter. Sometimes the truth is MUCH stranger than fiction.
How about the little old fella that showed up at the range with the 500 A-Square . . . . . . pistol !
NOTE: This is the no shit truth. I was present and I am relating this to the best of my memory.
An old friend of mine and I were out at the French Creek PA public range about 8 years ago. French Creek was (is?) a pretty nice range with about 12 100yard lanes, a 25 yard pistol range, and an area to shoot clays. We were both working over our Glock 23's and our hunting rifles . . . deer season was only a month away and all of us know that it takes at least 3000 rounds for an ARFCommer to get "ready" for the hunting season. At the time my main hunting rifle was a 1943 Enfield No4 Mk1 that I had purchased at Boscov's for $40 . . . man those were the good old days .
It was getting later in the afternoon and we were getting reay to pack our stuff up. The range was getting crowded and we both had our Ruger MkII's in the Jeep - we were getting ready to head out to our private hunting reserve and bust some small game. Then, about three lanes to our left, a little older fella starts bringing forward his rifle cases and stacking them up at his station. When he finished, he started unpacking his stuff and lo and behold - the first case had what I remember to be an LAR Grizzly or some sort of single shot .50 cal. At this point, all shooting on the range had ceased - this rifle had pretty much grabbed the full attention of everyone on the range.
Before I go any furthur, let me describe this "little old fella". He was about 5' 4" and weighted perhaps 120 pounds soaking wet before a good crap. He appeared to be in his late sixties. He had that particular hunched over stance that told of a life spent working hard outdoors with his hands. The top of his sunburned head was completely bald, but there was a fringe of wild 2-3 inch long hair sticking out at the base of his skull and at his temples . . . kind of a Woody Allen meets Friar Tuck sort of thing. His clothes probably would have stood up by themselves if he had taken them off . . . hygiene was definitely not on this guys list of priorities. He had money (the new Range Rover and expensive weaponry gave it away) but it was completely obvious to everyone assembled that this guy was a real, all-American, true blue psycho. Perhaps the clothes didn't denote insanity, but his constant stream-of-consciousness conversation with himself just gave it away. Here's a sample from memory:
HEHEHEHeeee . . . easy now . . . eeeeeasy . . . it's just a little punch and all the work's done . . . *snicker**snicker* . . . slowly . . don't let little ol' me down . . . squeeze . . . fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck . . . little more . . . . BBBBAAAARRROOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! (sound of .50 cutting loose) YOU SONOFAMOTHERFUCKINSHITBIRDWHORE!!!! A BULLET THE SIZE OF MY MOTHERFUCKIN THUMB AND YOU MISS (slaps rifle and scope) WHY YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKINASSLICKINWHOREMONGERING PIECE OF SHIT I'm TRADING YOU FOR A SACKOFSHIT MARLIN!!! (throws spent casing at target)
After a couple of rounds of this, he finally gave up and set the .50 aside. He pulled out a slightly smaller case and noticing that we were standing right behind him, signalled for us to step up and check out what was in the case. Lying in the case, nestled in foam, was the most insane pistol that I had ever seen.
After talking to him for a few minutes we realized that this guy was absolutely fixiated with owning and firing the most gonzo crazy assed pistols that money and insanity could buy. 500 Linebaugh wouldn't even get a rise out of him . . . if it was designed for a pistol it was by definition boring. The Thompson - Center was initially appreciated, but soon lost its luster. Then suddenly, while crushing .338 caliber bullets into a supermax load for one of his SSK anti-aircraft pistols, he had the idea for the ultimate pistol that would lay it all to rest. Forever. He immediately called his gunsmith (SSK??) and asked if they would build him a .50 BMG pistol. They said (and I qoute) **** NO. No one could shoot it and or even hold it up to fire it . . . they simple wouldn't even consider doing it. The man he spoke to on the phone JOKINGLY said that he should "limit himself to rounds that can fit into a Weatherby magnum action". He was joking, but the little old fella took him at his word.
Research soon showed him that the nastiest, most impressive, and dick stiffening round that could fit into the mammoth Weatherby action was the 500 A Square - - - a .460 Weatherby Magnum necked up to take .50 BMG bullets. He called back his gunsmith and related his new plan. The gunsmith (who by now had probably picked up in the fact that this guy was a loon), told him that he would not build it because no one would or could shoot it. No one (the gunsmith stated) could fire such a device without permanent injury. The little old fella promised proof and hung up the phone,
The next day, he said, he visited his local gunsmith and ordered a braked .460 Weatherby magnum and 20 rounds of ammo. When it arrived, he said that he promptly whacked off the stock right after the pistol grip. Donning a football helmet and a PAST shooting glove, he proceeded to video tape himself cranking off 10 rounds from the bench with this beast. With his hand and elbow still numb (I'm guessing) he proceeded to mail the video to his gunsmith, reiterating his idea for a 500 A Square pistol.
Six months later his local gunsmith called and said that he had received a package. Upon inspection, the package turned out to be a 500 A Square bolt action pistol. It had a 16 inch long bull barrel with an integral brake in all stainless. The black fiberglass stock was reminiscent of the old Remington XP-100 with the pistol grip near the center of gravity so that you could actually hold it up. With the Leupold, it had to weigh at least 10 pounds. It was a single shot . . . you had to pull the bolt out of the rear to load it.
In the shipping box was a note. The gunsmith stated that if received videotape proof of the weapon being actually fired from a standing off-hand position, the gun was free. Otherwise, there were instructions to contact him for billing. The little old fella had never had the nerve to fire it yet and wanted to crank off a couple of rounds from the bench before he broke out the video camera. We were his first audience.
So here we were on a gorgeous fall day, all staring at this beast. The ammo came in a nice plastic box . . . I really didn't believe the old guy until I saw those rounds. It looked like something out of a freakin' A-10. He carefully pulled the bolt out and dropped a round in. He slid the bolt home and applied the safety.
He tried to get situated on the bench, but it was too short for him to get into a position that he was comfortable with. He was obviously completely pant-shitting terrified of this weapon. He knew that it was going to kick his *** into a new dimension of hurt, but it's hard to back out with 25 folks stand around eagerly awaiting your imminent demise.
I donated my field jacket for him to fold up under his elbow and one of the other folks present found a five gallon bucket for him to sit on to get far enough back from the bench. With the front of the stock resting on a couple of shot bags, he took his position behind the monster.
AWFUCKAWFUCKAWFUCK . . . ITS GONNA HURT LIKE SHIT . . . easyeasy . . . <quiver in voice>. . . fuckin crazy *** gunsmiths . . . slow . . slow . . . awwwwwwwwwwww (finger tightening) WWWWWWWWWWW . . . .
BAAARROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!
Fire totally obscured the target and I could feel a punch from the shockwave from behind the old guy. Shit was blow off of benches for two or three lanes on both sides of that massive brake. The old fella was pushed clear off of the bucket and has lying on his back with the pistol in the dirt held in both hands above his head. As the echoes of that shot were still ringing through the trees we all could hear the little old fella say . . .
". . . **** that. I'm paying for this bitch."
Everyone on the range nearly shit themselves laughing.. We laughed so hard that we couldn't even help the little old fella load up his Range Rover. It was a solid hour before we trusted ourselves to drive.
For years after that all one of us had to do was say "**** that" in that little old fella tone of voice to send us into gales of laughter. Sometimes the truth is MUCH stranger than fiction.
Was shooting at the range next to this guy who seemed to know what he was doing. He had some decent groups going and appeared to be taking a break. The siren goes off and the lights come on to signal a cold range. This guy takes a live round, loads it into the chamber, from what I could tell didn't set the safety, and he steps back behind the yellow line where you belong during a cold range. Normally, by club rules, you open the bolt and put a yellow chamber flag in it.
I call him out on it before anyone can go down range. He looked confused for a second and then the light comes on in his eyes. He removes the live round, gets the flag in place and then thanks me. Very weird...talk about a brain fart.
Another story involves this guy shooting his 300 Win mag about 25 times trying to get it sighted in at 100 yards. He can't even get it on paper. He asks for my help, and I have him bring his rifle over to my one piece rim fire rest where I had a target set up at 50 yards. First thing I do is remove the bolt to bore sight it and he asks me what I'm doing...needless to say I got him bore sighted in three shots and he finished up at 100 yards less than five shots later. He offered me money...said I save him 50 bucks in ammo. I declined and told him to do the same for someone else some day. I can only imagine the bruise on his arm.
I call him out on it before anyone can go down range. He looked confused for a second and then the light comes on in his eyes. He removes the live round, gets the flag in place and then thanks me. Very weird...talk about a brain fart.
Another story involves this guy shooting his 300 Win mag about 25 times trying to get it sighted in at 100 yards. He can't even get it on paper. He asks for my help, and I have him bring his rifle over to my one piece rim fire rest where I had a target set up at 50 yards. First thing I do is remove the bolt to bore sight it and he asks me what I'm doing...needless to say I got him bore sighted in three shots and he finished up at 100 yards less than five shots later. He offered me money...said I save him 50 bucks in ammo. I declined and told him to do the same for someone else some day. I can only imagine the bruise on his arm.
swd
Silver $$ Contributor
About 15 years ago I was at our local indoor range. I'd been shooting my Para P16 and had just finished reloading and was getting ready to chamber a round and start shooting again when a 5 year boy jumps up right in front of me from the shooting lane and with a big smile says "HI". I grabbed him and returned him to the front counter where a very embarrassed grandfather was wondering where he went.
Chappy
Silver $$ Contributor
Had a trap boy do that at a trap club during handicap. Poked his head out of the house right as I called "pull". He was damn lucky I didn't send that 1 1/8oz load of 7.5 shot his way at 1290 FPS, especially considering how low of a hold I had on the trap and how fast I tended to shoot the birds out of the house (10-15 feet out of the house). This was also during a time when I was trying a release trigger. It made me so mad that I had to quit shooting for the day to cool off before I could chew the kid's butt out.swd said:
About 30 years ago when my two oldest sons were 9 and 12 I bought them a BB Gun. I took them out to the nearby woods where there was a junk pile that we could use for practice. After a while of shooting cans and bottles one of my sons wanted to shoot a old tire in the pile but I told them never to shoot a tire with a BB Gun because the rubber was hard enough that it could bounce the BB back towards you. I don't why but I decided to demonstrate that to them. With them off to the side I fired at the tire only to have the BB hit the tire, bounce back and hit my check bone just below my left eye. It was a pretty good cut with blood all over my face. I still remember one of the boys saying what a good demonstration that was. But the worse part was when we got back to the house and one of the boys ran in ahead of me yelling to mom that dad had shot himself in the eye. Boy was my wife upset at what I had done. Even after all these years when I go shooting sometimes my wife will say with a smile, "don't shoot yourself in the eye".
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