Mangled Thoughts

Testerday, business to attend to. Today, had the eyes tested, just as I suspected, drat it, need glasses, not for reading and peering at things close up, unfortunately, these days many things close up are best viewed within a fog ocular, no I’m short sighted now. Depressing, now, to drill a bullet into the bull, koala bear, kangaroo, crocodile, snake, at distance, I’ll need to use goggles, bloody inconvenient.

I once found, as a young lad, a brown snake cavorting in my favourite swimming hole. Hopped back on the motorcycle, dashed off back to the house, grabbed the .22 and, settled on the bank of the large dam, plugged the criminal full of holes at distance over open sights, as it swam about. A couple of months later, casting the fly, I hooked something mystifying, it didn’t fight, just a dead weight. Then, I sighted it,the snake.

On inspection of the carcass, sure enough, where I’d aimed at a distance of 300 hundred yards, was a neat, tiny group, approx. 1/4 inch diameter, of eight bullet holes.How good is that for marksmanship, puts a few Olympians to shame. Now I have to wear fucking goggles to produce a neat pattern like that. Which means, on riding out to a swimming hole and dicovering a dangerous criminal beast, I have to wear goggles, and back to a gun rack, on a motorcycle, and to shoot something deadly. Apart from having to fork out the moolah otherwise best expended on good scotch and ammo,it’s just not fair and it has more force considering, in view of the greenies’ policies, shooting the daily meat will become a daily chore - a pleasant one, mind, but locked up in the city, it would be a tad difficult each day fitting in a trip to shoot venison, koala bear, wallaby, kangaroo;Melbourne bloody Zoo might, for once, serve a useful function for urban dwellers bearing rifles and shotgun- to take fowl. Face it, you’ve driven 50 or so miles and, damn, you’ve forgotten the goggles and you have to return home without a kill and have to look the wife and the children in the face … I can’t continue, I’m overcome with grief.

Another argument against the existence of God: if god existed, my naive belief, that when the day comes to fall off the mortal perch, I would do so with vision unimpaired, would remain unabused. Now I’m a freaking four eyes. Blah and bah, have to rinse the mouth out with a triple scotch, and the rest of the bottle… tomorrow, because of the liquid amber, the flaw will have been rectified, and I can happily continue shooting wild life without having to reach for the goggles.