Category Archives: shooting

How to not go shooting in the woods. Prompted by the Chelsea Owens Hilarity contest. Oh, and sponsored by Smokey the Bear.

Dumber Jack.

Jack the Lad could barely wait to turn twenty-one,
To cast his vote, to drive, drink, (legal-like) and tote a gun,
To pick the biggest baddest gun you’ve ever seen,
To play the part, just like in that Soldier Of Fortune magazine.

Off out to the woods he went to bag him a bear,
Or a boar, a deer, doe or buck- a duck, Jack didn’t care,
Through thicket underbrush and bosk Jack barged,
In his blundering search only his smart phone wound up discharged.

As the warm autumnal sun began to wane
Our hunter looked for any game, in vain,
In his ceaseless aim he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop;
Still as graceless as a bull in a china shop.

There wasn’t a critter to be found for miles around
As he trampled his way through his unhappy hunting ground-
Finding fording a stream is done at a huntsman’s peril-
A cruel cool baptism resulting in blown-out knee and twisted barrel.

So, cold, wet, lost in the woods as it grows dark,
Sat nav and phone flat, ah, but Jack’s quite the bright spark,
His safety match strikes, the dry leaves catch fire!
Remains to be seen, if anyone ever finds Jacks funeral pyre.

Another Wild West-like shooting in sweet sober and genteel Milwaukee. We must all be getting numb to all this because it barely raises an echo on the airwaves these days. And isn’t that sad?

A Case Of Making Lite,

Down at the Ol’ Molson brewery
Somebody got pissed and agitated,
First, drunkeness in the first degree,
Now a killer hangover, and terminated.

Soon he turned to drinking,
Tossing back the beers,
Sitting alone, spirits sinking,
Dark eyes drip with hoppy tears.

Since they repealed Prohibition
It’s his legal and constitutional Right,
His amended defended Rightful position-
Barkeep, you’re bound to serve him till he’s tight.

We’re free to get totally trashed
In a pub, a private club, like, say the NRA?
But expect to get completely smashed
If you try to take their licences away.

When it comes to being a defendant
Of all the rights that keep us free
The importantest is our Second Amendment
Says the NRA to its blind unblinking army.

How much Dutch courage does it take
To spur a mad man into action?
To drunkenly lash out and make
A tragedy out at his dissatisfaction?

When a mans mind is corroded
With a case of the devils brew,
If the ol’ circuits get overloaded,
May he not pop off a shot or two?

No, we no longer roam the range,
We don’t- usually- shoot up the saloon,
But if’n the ol’ NRAs position don’t ever change
We’re gunna keep playing that ol’ funereal tune.

Why not  pick up that six-pack?
 Forget about work, and going back…

It’s all too easy to wipe the foam
Away from a well inebriated lip,
And return to work, and not go home,
Packing a loaded pistol on your hip.

 

©Obbverse

The year is all but shot, but this weird year has yet another twist in the tail. What a crazy world we live in. Let those who believe pray for a better one next year. Me? I can only shake my head in disbelief.

In The Arms Of Jesus, Texas Style.

In the God-fearing burg of White Settlement
Off to church the good and faithful go,
To bend the knee, to take the blessed sacrament,
To pray for the sinners in this world of woe.

Unfortunately there’s one in this day’s congregation
Whose devil’s work is not yet done,
The good flock are in for one hell of a Revelation
Finding one congregant puts his trust in a gun.

He flung aside his coat, took his gun, a shot rang out,
But this gunman wouldn’t go on a rampage,
The Lord might well protect ’em but there’s always doubt-
Texas pew-warmers pack heat in this day and age.

With half the damn congregation blazing away
The church was filled with cordite smoke,
The gunman was offed, off to his Judgement Day;
Sweet Lord above, what a dark cosmic joke.

Forget the good Lords lesson
But not your Smith and Wesson?
What can you say except
Christ Almighty, Jesus wept.

 

©Obbverse

More shootings in Texas. Can’t someone there exercise a little control? Or is that crazy talk?

More Of The Same.

It was just another routine traffic stop
Or so thought the Odessa, Texas, traffic cop,
But you’re free to carry a shootin’ iron in the Lone Star State
And some ornery Texans prefer straight shootin’ to talkin’ straight.

The Texas Governor Greg grieves over the horrific toll
But Abbott’s not able to be convinced on gun control,
On the contrary, instead of any controls he’d rather
Give any fool who can afford a firearm open slather.

 

©Obbverse

We knew it would happen again, and it did. But so soon? Mr President, its time for a little control. Please?

Mad Dog Days.

They’re still shivering in the aisles down at old El Paso
Though it’s been a lazy slow cookin’ Southern hazy crazy afternoon,
There’s a similar smoky atmosphere at Peppers Bar up in Dayton, Ohio;
Let’s pray to God (or whoever) there’s a change in the weather- mighty soon.

 

©Obbverse

Forty-nine people- people, not numbers, but people – dead in a mosque shooting in NZ and an Aussie raving loony politician has the answer! It’s all due to those migrants ?! Back under your rock, Fraser Anning.

Too Right, Cobber.

Thank you for your deep thoughts, Fraser Anning,
No thanks, for the Right wing flames you’re fanning,
He condemns all violence, yet his dry eye darkly gleams,
For him it’s only the Right who can be left to go to extremes.

He’s saddened by Mosque shootings but
It’s not time to keep his diplomatic gob shut,
He’ll illuminate us of what we’ve been blind to;
Words Fraser has long had half a mind to.

First his ‘final solution’ speech brought screeches of indignation
From even Pauline Hanson and her all-inclusive One Nation,
But stating the victims of a Mosque shooting are to blame
Guarantees Fraser strolls straight into the Hall of Shame.

 

©Obbverse

Attraction, emotions, romance, true love, love proven… a period of waiting… marriage, then happy ever after. Ain’t love grand?

Post Nuptial.

I’m special, not the sort of person
Who’d marry any old sort of person
Pregnant or not to him.

We could never become those sort of people,
The kind who find they resort to other people;
Tied by the trusty knot, me and him.

But I became another person
When he came in another person.
This widow’s well shot of him.

©Obbverse

Another mad day at work. Sometimes and some days you wish you could be well shot of this sort of ….

Twenty-Four Hours, And Counting.

Three mass shootings in one day-
It’s just another day in the USA.

A mere five hospitalized in Syracuse?
That damp squib scarcely made the news.

Five injured in Middleton plus one dead perp-
Thank God he didn’t channel Wyatt Earp.

Four gone to glory in Maryland,
Unusually by a maids not-so-fair hand.

Yet another disgruntled employee with a gun
Hell-bent on making her last day a memorable one.

Living in the gun-tottin’ Land of the Free is GREAT;
The worry is surviving the workday without winding up late.

Three mass shootings in one day-
Sadly, just another day in the USA.

 

©Obbverse

Two fine Tampa citizens start callin’ each other names on Facebook and the war of words between Brian and Alex gets out of hand. Well, duh, who’d have thunk it? Ain’t it great a handgun is right at hand to smooth over these differences of opinion?

Two Men Of The Highest Calibre.

There’s many points of view in politics,
Left and Right sure produce a toxic mix,
Two protagonists began to write on Facebook
And what an ugly wrong turn that argument took.

First came the finger pointing, then an invitation
To take up fisticuffs and forgo learned conversation;
One overwrought ‘gent’ felt such outrage and distress
To drive his point home he even drove to his foes address!

But he blew his argument to bits, so to speak
By putting a slug clear through his enemy’s cheek,
Haven’t Florida Facebook posts sadly come to a pretty pass
When two hot heads must prove who is the biggest bloody ass?

 

©Obbverse