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Your "No Duh, I Must be a Dumbs×××" Moment - Firearm Related or Not

bbbass

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I with Andy on this one... at times it seems as tho my entire life is one string of embarrassing moments after another!! Too many to relate.

But there was that whole first marriage... just sayin.

Sooooo there I was, early in the relationship with my truly crazy ex with the 150IQ... I was early 20s, waiting to report to boot camp and she had gone to work as a "photo model" in a strip mall... yeah, you get the picture, good thing I wasn't going for officer. She came home and told me that her boss was in trouble with the Calif mafia and we had to watch out... so I loaded up the Ithaca Deerslayer with some 00buck even tho we had young kids in the house. After a few days, she came home and said the coast was clear (hey, we lived in Huntington Beach, lol) I went to the double door closet, picked up the shotgun and went to hit the slide release to unload it...... BOOOM!!!!! Damn. Knocked me back onto my butt on the floor next to the bed. I got up and could see daylight thru the roof above the closet. I was temp deaf and totally freaked out. :oops::oops::oops:
 
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To prove I'm not a one trick pony, there was also the night when I, at age 16 and intoxicated, drove my dad's 1966 Mustang into the rear of a Little Rock City Police car while he was at a railroad crossing while a train was passing by. I had about half a case of beer in me and a half case still sitting on the passenger's seat. If he hadn't been there, I would have driven right under the train. The cop was less than happy, understandably, and cited me with a multitude of charges before hauling my butt downtown to the jail. My dad, a high school football coach and very adept at handling stupid young men, let me sit in the holding cell there until just about noon the next day. When he picked me up and took me home, he grounded me eternally. Then he let me think right up until the hearing almost three months later that my life, as I knew it, was over with. But behind the scenes, unbeknownst to me, he had made a deal with the Deputy Chief of Police, with whom he roomed and played football with after he returned from WWII, that made me pay for all the damages to both cars and also provide for some monetary assistance to the aforementioned pissed off cop. At the hearing, the judge first asked my dad if he had anything to say in support of me. "Not a word, your honor," he replied. Then the judge said I was charged with minor possession of alcohol and asked for my plea. I almost asked him what about the other charges, but instead I just said, "Guilty." I got fined heftily in addition to the other things I already had to pay off but didn't know about until my dad told me after the hearing. That was, not surprisingly, the last time I drove after drinking, a lesson that survives even to this day.
 
OP
J
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Well, if a picture says a thousand words, two pictures (entrance/exit) must say a lot more. To be honest, this was after the surgeon enlarged the 9mm sized holes to better clean out the wounds and the bullet path through my ankle, but still...

View attachment 611543 View attachment 611544
Ouch! That had to hurt. Do you kind my asking what bullet you used and would it have made a good defensive round?
 
OP
J
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To prove I'm not a one trick pony, there was also the night when I, at age 16 and intoxicated, drove my dad's 1966 Mustang into the rear of a Little Rock City Police car while he was at a railroad crossing while a train was passing by. I had about half a case of beer in me and a half case still sitting on the passenger's seat. If he hadn't been there, I would have driven right under the train. The cop was less than happy, understandably, and cited me with a multitude of charges before hauling my butt downtown to the jail. My dad, a high school football coach and very adept at handling stupid young men, let me sit in the holding cell there until just about noon the next day. When he picked me up and took me home, he grounded me eternally. Then he let me think right up until the hearing almost three months later that my life, as I knew it, was over with. But behind the scenes, unbeknownst to me, he had made a deal with the Deputy Chief of Police, with whom he roomed and played football with after he returned from WWII, that made me pay for all the damages to both cars and also provide for some monetary assistance to the aforementioned pissed off cop. At the hearing, the judge first asked my dad if he had anything to say in support of me. "Not a word, your honor," he replied. Then the judge said I was charged with minor possession of alcohol and asked for my plea. I almost asked him what about the other charges, but instead I just said, "Guilty." I got fined heftily in addition to the other things I already had to pay off but didn't know about until my dad told me after the hearing. That was, not surprisingly, the last time I drove after drinking, a lesson that survives even to this day.
Wow! Great learning lesson. I have often said that "fear is an effective teaching tool". Not a popular opinion in today's world.
 
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Read the scale wrong when I was first teaching myself to reload 8 years ago. Put 15 grains of powder in 10mm instead of the maximum suggested 10.5

Split case in half in the chamber, blew the magazine out of the gun, left my hand very sore. Was lucky that all I got out of it was a bruised hand and a lesson learned.
 

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