April 28, 2004
William Tell, and Rambo
I used to be quite the archer as a youngster, a preteen. I had a 25 pound bow and a fifty-five pounder, and could put an eye out inadvertently at fifty yards. I unfortunately became interested in girls about the time compound bows emerged, and never experienced them, except occasionally.
I think when my bullwhip arrives I'm going to buy a bow. Not a hunting bow, a compound bow, as I prefer my slayed dinnah to come shrink-wrapped from the butcher, and I think venison is nasty stringy shit, and shooting a damned steer is no sport at all, regardless of the weapon.
No, I want a target bow, a recurve. One of those Olympic-gauge pupsters. I can still fling hunting heads with it.
Of course, hunting pitbulls with a recurve could prove problematic, but I think I'm up to the task.