TPB X thread

[1HuskerDad]

 

[1HuskerDad]

 

[ChocaEgg]

 

[1HuskerDad]

 

[1HuskerDad]

These were da’bomb

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[LoudHogRider]

@LoudHogRider we both need one of these

Uber-concealable. The .22 WMR will make a mess out of a rabbit, but I'd sure as hell want more than one of them in a self-defense situation involving a bad guy. Not too sure I could pull off the perfect CNS shot with that itty bitty firearm.

Bond Arms makes some cool derringers that would be fit that bill. Bigger freedom seeds delivered downrange from those derringers, too.

 

[LoudHogRider]

True Story: I was somewhat "raised" by the grandson of Bullet (Roy Roger's faithful German Shepherd) until I was two. Just like the kid in this video, Sergeant would watch me play in the front yard, and as long as I was on grass it was OK by my guardian. The MOMENT I got near concrete, he would pick me up by my britches and haul me either to the front porch or back into the middle of the yard where he deemed it to be safe for me to play.

Ever my protector, he made sure he got between me and my Mom whenever - as a little shithead - I got into trouble and needed a whoppin'. My Mom claimed she broke yardsticks over that dog trying to get to me, and he wouldn't budge. Never once threatened HER, but stayed between up. Finally, she'd had enough and told my Dad that either the dog goes or she would. According to my Dad, the dog lost the coin flip and off to the farm he went, where he lived out the remainder of his days.

Sergeant and I (circa 1959):

 

[1HuskerDad]

True Story: I was somewhat "raised" by the grandson of Bullet (Roy Roger's faithful German Shepherd) until I was two. Just like the kid in this video, Sergeant would watch me play in the front yard, and as long as I was on grass it was OK by my guardian. The MOMENT I got near concrete, he would pick my up by my britches and haul me either to the front porch or back into the middle of the yard where he deemed it to be safe for me to play.

Ever my protector, he made sure he got between me and my Mom whenever - as a little shithead - I got into trouble and needed a whoppin'. My Mom claimed she broke yardsticks over that dog trying to get to me, and he wouldn't budge. Never once threatened HER, but stayed between up. Finally, she'd had enough and told my Dad that either the dog goes or she would. According to my Dad, the dog lost the coin flip and off to the farm he went, where he lived out the remainder of his days.

Sergeant and I (circa 1959):
View attachment 34232

View attachment 34233

Very cool story!

 

[MtnHusker]

 

[MtnHusker]