After arranging for what may be the last big friends shoot of the year unless the weather holds out, the hordes assembled at the local range for a good afternoon.
All in all, much ammo was expended, seven evildoers handed firearms and cases of weaponry, and the clay tide was beaten back for another weekend. No one was hurt in the making of this production, unless you count the time I didn't hold the Desert Eagle quite right and I got hit in the forehead with brass and was slightly annoyed. ;0
I'm also pleased to note that what may be my final STG-58 build operates perfectly. Yay me.
Look, Mom, it's a table of evil black rifles and enough ammo to stop the onrushing tide of clay pidgeons coming from the west. Note: for anyone who complains about the photo, that's an alcohol box. It was delivered with my Chinese food last night, and I recycled it by holding ammo and magazines. No actual booze was present, unlike certain local shooting events.
And the pistols, they're co-mingling. Next thing you know I'll have a semi-automatic titanium framed Schofield.
One of my victims, blowing rounds through the SAR-8.
Can it be? The Schofield kid returns, this time with a hoodie.
The six-foot salami of Pocatello plays with another man's gun. Oh, the homoerotic horror!
And a small bird, aka the Old Lady(TM), pecks through a 40 round mag of .223.
There's also a http://s90127256.onlinehome.us/sigdump-web.MPG
overexposed video from my digicam of me blasting away with the Sig. Thanks to shutter lag, it begins with the first piece of brass in the air. And another ( http://s90127256.onlinehome.us/glockdump-web.MPG
)with the Glock and the first two pieces of brass in the frame. Next time I'll bring the tripod so I can put it out in the sun where it likes to be and catch the downrange targets as well for the jumping coffee can effect.