New to the forums and enjoying the reads. Got me remembering funny and not-so-funny stories from the past. Here's one over two decades old.

I stop by to meet up with a guy at another barracks. Go to take a leak and there's a pair of blood-soaked sweatpants hanging next to the shower. I ask what's up. Here's the story as told by my buddy (I knew the mishap LEO only by name and face), but I'm sure it's at least 10% true.

Mishap LEO gets brand new personal 9mm semiauto (standard issue was Mod 66s in .357 at the time) and is at home playing with... I mean cleaning... it. He says he hears a noise outside, loads the pistol, and heads out to investigate, finds Rocky Raccoon eating out of the trash cans and scares him off. Turns to go back in the house and shoves the pistol into his waistband.

Boom.

9mm FMJ means that he still has flesh left in his glutes, but bullet evidently makes six holes: in/out his butt cheek, in/out his thigh, in/out his calf.

In the aftermath, Cops being understandable and sympathetic souls that they are make sure to secure the sweatpants from the ER staff (to make a trophy out of them) and then proceed to write on his desk blotter calendar - the days leading up to the incident were chock full of comments. Things like:

"Having bad dreams... bang! ouch!"
"Wondering what it would be like to shoot myself"
"Think I'm going to go out and shoot myself in the a$$."