...where these things come from. Or whether or not I should keep them.
From FAKING IT (c) 2008
I admit it. I’ve had Dirty Harry fantasies since I could first spell g-u-n, and those fantasies only intensified every time my brothers refused to let me tag along on one of their hunting trips. The thought of a gun in my hands was a very enticing image.
Pow, pow, pow. Bad guys go BOOM.
I made Gabe pull over twice—once to dump the bullets in a dumpster, the next to dump the gun down a street drain. I had to cover my eyes when he did the latter. It was such a waste.
Any thoughts? LOL.