“I’s about to get you laid, son”

I get a text this morning from my very good friend Des.

Des: Sooooo whatcha doing next Saturday?
Me: I have that feeling like there might be something, but it’s not on my calendar so it can’t be important (if it even exists). So…I’m doing whatever you’re doing.
Des: I’s about to get you laid, son
(and this is why Des is my very good friend. Because I cracked the fuck up when I read that.)
Me: Oh Joe is taking me to the gun range that day?

Mmmm. Apparently no. We’re all gonna go drink some beers.
Cool.

I know pretty much nothing about Joe except he’s young. And goes to the gun range. But ya know what? I’ve always wanted to shoot a gun. So there. The surprising part of all this? I’m actually halfway stoked about it. As a very good friend, I don’t think she’d steer me wrong. We’ll see.

But the burning question is: Is it appropriate to wear cowboy boots to the shooting range….?

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