High noon on the shores of Sandy. @lifeofstevegtav and I had a difference of opinion about which way is best to put on your boots. Things got heated and one thing lead to another and next thing you know, Steve is learning what it means to be wild west made. Good thing that old bastard has nine lives.
It's been quite a week. I'm glad its Friday, so that means meditation, gardening, painting rims and eating oatmeal. My day is full, but my hunger for killing tryhards is more than ever. When one spends all their time hunting, they eventually become the prey. Take note you slack jawed parasites with your rebreathers on, you exude lack of self worth and any chance of being a decent human. Time to cross the line and meet whatever God you're praying to.