Thursday, October 30, 2008

Sometimes I Just Don't Know...

...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.


Deniz Bevan said...

Hey Jen,
I meant to post when I first read this snip, but I didn't, and now I find that've been thinking about it on and off for days! You must have struck a chord somewhere, even though the only time I ever held a gun in my life I held it in both hands, palms up, as though it would go off any second. It was *heavy*! Anyway, great snip :-)

Jennifer Hendren said...


Thank you, ma'am! I'm beaming over here. :):)