I hope I get shot by 65 year old Carl and his WW2 era 1911 after his PSA-15 shits the bed. And lord help him if it ain’t in .45
Carl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.I hope I get shot by 65 year old Carl and his WW2 era 1911 after his PSA-15 shits the bed. And lord help him if it ain’t in .45
Modern day J. PetermanCarl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.
The Duluth pants part left me dead, I’m cryineCarl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.
WTFCarl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.
He so accurately portrayed you
Carl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.
It was destinyAll that money on plate carriers, Sooper Doodies, training, and a ZEVed out Glock, just to get yeeted by a meme lord with a shovel handle equipped pink AK.
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Better step up my outdoor prep game. I wanna be king of the tree fort when it goes downPretty soon, the middle class will be non existent and only elites will be able to afford housing. It will be California, tents everywhere.
Bro... well done. The Duluth trading pants got me good hahahaCarl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.
Join me, we will create the “Swiss family Robinson” of boogaloo tree fort cities.Better step up my outdoor prep game. I wanna be king of the tree fort when it goes down
Too bad you wont ever use it.Commie junk.....
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This....this deserves a fucking award...Carl knew that a young whippersnapper was roaming the woods and today would be his day. As his hearing aids picked up the snap of a branch off in the distance, Carl froze, then slowly unslung his sporterized K98. Another snap, much closer this time, revealed to Carl that the young whippersnapper was closing in on him quickly. His heart began beating faster and he could feel an erection growing in his Duluth Trading Company khakis, probably from the little blue pills he took the night before. Carl stabbed his cold fingers into his Uncle Mike's nylon holster, fighting to grasp his 1911. As he drew, his arthritis riddled hand racked a round of .38 Super into a previously empty chamber. Carl spotted a quick movement in his peripheral vision and fired a shot. The sheer force of the fireball leaving the barrel rippled the wrinkles across his face and he felt himself losing consciousness as his pounding heart pumped his entire blood supply into his turgid member. As his vision quickly became black and the world around sunk into silence, he lifted an unheard prayer for help, terrified that his .38 Super had not hit its mark.