If Guns Were People... (Fun Thread)

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A .22 - any .22 - is that trusty sidekick who always seems to be there when you need them. Maybe not the slickest, or the strongest, but always eager to help.


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The SKS is that foreign lady at the bar you see every now and again, she may be older but clean her up and she's still got thousands of rounds to go.
 
My Sig P238 is the perfect girl....compact, perfect lines, great features, and feels good in my hands.
 
The Springfield 03 is like that old coot veteran down the street who, despite his age, is in better trim than you were at the age of 22.

And looks like he could probably lift 2,820 lbs a foot off the ground.

Terry, 230RN
 
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My AK is the trusted ole' gal that I can cuss around, get dirty with and at the end of the night she can just be put in the corner and forgotten.

TK
 
SIG 229 is like an accountant or a bank examiner. Not the most attractive, dressed kinda plain, but very methodical and consistent and you really can't throw them off stride.

Glock is that crazy buddy of yours, you know the one with all the rough edges and scars, the guy who does the "tough mudder" run, headbutts someone in a bar fight, crashes his mountain-bike and still just won't quit.

Marlin leverguns are that old, cranky, farmer at the end of the road. The guy who seems older than dirt but tougher than barbed wire and in spite of being a fussy old cuss he always seems to be able to get the job done.
 
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A Glock is Michael Keaton playing Beetlejuice. Except instead of somebody saying his name 3 times, it only takes 1 time. Then he appears in the autoloader forum.
Then he won't go away and he fills all the threads up with his name until it's a page full of Beetlejuice.
 
Why can't it be a canine?

The Ruger 10-22 as your "best friend"

What do you wanna do taday huh huh huh,can we go chasing rabbits huh huh huh?!!!!
C'mon let'sgo huntin' let'sgo huntin' please please please !!!!
 
My K31 is an old timey boxer, with a handlebar mustache, and a corncob pipe, quick and strong.
 
My auto-5 is the grumpy old Grandpa, that would just as well stay home, but a simple stroll in the woods would be acceptable, providing it don't have too far to go and there are some partridge to shoot.:scrutiny:
 
AK is that hot leathery biker chick that you'd never take home to Mom-

PPK is a vindictive ex-wife that bites.

AR is an African American Barbie doll.

Bulgarian Makarov is the fat, hairy, gypsy girl with a cute face that you'd still fancy a roll with. (Goes for Bersas too)

Sylvester Stallone would be a prop gun.

HA!
 
If firearms actually had personalities, the more interesting ones would be the pistols, and most of them would prove to be female.

Browning/FN/Beretta BDA 380 is my college semi-girlfriend of "versatile" heritage, gorgeous to look at, easy to talk to, but never completely honest about her history or our relationship. Fun on a date, but not one to whom I'd commit.

Baby Eagle .45 is my buddy's mysterious girlfriend who flirts with me when he's not looking.

Matte stainless CZ-75 is my daughter's mother on a normal day, cool and calculating, capable and reliable when fed properly, and dangerously good looking.

Black CZ-75SA is my daughter's mother on a bad-girl day, ruthless and a little wild, quick to bite and easily provoked, but still dangerously good looking.

A Glock, any Glock, is any of a dozen less-attractive girls I'd have been better off marrying.

Revolvers? I gotta work on them.
 
Sig P210: A swiss beauty, a little older and more mature, slender, well proportioned, and when she moves, everyone notices. When you touch her, you know that you want to be with her, forever. Like a soul mate. Intimate relations are highly sensual, an almost religeous experience. Stroking her at that most tender moment is climactic, and then she bucks and roars, and you know you want more, but alas, you have to pull out, as she is spent, and you must find a way to fill her again. And it begins again. You think that the two of you will be as one, but you got careless, and you looked one way, and she went off in another direction. Hit or miss, you know it was YOUR fault, because she is perfect, and would never let you down. And you know that other men want her, but she is yours.....forever.
 
Soooooooo, do they make firearm romantic novels? That Sig210 excerpt has got me wondering. I thought it was going to get X-rated for a second there. :D
 
A Glock is like a good wife. There might be prettier, newer, better dressed pistols out there but when it really counts you know what your going to grab for. A Glock like a good wife may not be as exciting as other offerings but you take comfort and have confidence in something your so familiar with, and has been dependable and by your side from day 1. :neener:


I was going to say almost the exact same thing about the K-Frame S&W! (minus the word "prettier", of course). ;)
 
I neglected to mention my Taurus 617.
He's my wife's jobless cousin, I didn't invite him in, but there he is. Sitting there taking up space, doesn't do anything and I wouldn't trust him to help anyway. I'd rather he just took it upon himself to take a trip for a gallon of milk and never came back.
 
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Remington 512 Sportmaster. A fine old country gal of good breeding, born in upstate New York, yet capable of dealing with woodsy matters all over the country. That long 25" barrel speaks quietly but with authority when she needs to. And she's easy to talk to while reclining on your lap as you sit leaning against a tree waiting for the next bushytail to appear.

Inexpensive to feed and keep, her one piece of jewelry being a gold bead. Good for a day's play in the woods, being capable of holding up to 22 short snacks or 15 goodly repasts without getting hungry again.

And nobody can "own" her; she was born without a serial number.

A good gal to know, smooth of touch and beautifully elegant, yet with a robust country air about her. And with her long, long sight radius, no need for modern beauty enhancements like scopes.

Terry, 230RN

REF:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remington_Model_512_Sportsmaster
 
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My pre-64 Winchester '94 in 32WS....is an old uncle who wears tweed, smells of cigar smoke, likes three fingers of good bourbon and drives a sleeper big block-powered 1962 Chevelle sedan rolling on steelies and poverty caps.
 
The Luger is the sinister, handsome foreign agent in a 1960s spy movie. Smooth devil. In the final scene, just when it looks like he's going to kill our hero, he turns and shoots the real bad guy. Turns out he was on our side all along!
 
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