The Day Wokeness Came to my Gun Club

[Lord Long Rod]

I am a proud member of a local gun club called “Shootin’ Blanks”. Twice each year we have clean-up days where all the members show up early on a Saturday morning to clean the place up, haul off trash and debris, trip up limbs, cut down trees, etc… It is also the time we do any needed maintenance work, like patching holes in the roof over the pistol range where people have unsuccessfully tried out some hot hand loads they made.



With the advent of spring this particular year, our club had its semi-annual clean-up day. We all were to meet promptly at 8:00 a.m. at the club on Saturday morning. Per usual, I showed up at 2:30 p.m. When I arrived, I noted that all the other club members were sitting around under our pavilion. I thought, “Great!! They already got the physical labor out of the way before I got here!!”. But upon exiting my truck and walking toward the pavilion I took further note of the glum and sour expressions on the members’ faces. I walked up to them and made my presence known.



“What’s up, fags? Why all the fucking droopy faces?? Did ya’ll finally find out I have been fucking yer wives?!? LOL!!!!” But there was no joy to behold from the crew. They did not even rip on me for showing up late again. They just collectively sighed and lowered their heads even more. I figured that I needed to get to the bottom of this.



See, we have 17 members of the club, including myself. We are all middle-aged white dudes who don’t take shit from anyone. Like most middled aged dudes, we are full of rage and blood-sugar medication. We are from the old school where we still salute Old Glory, still call our mamas on Sunday, and refuse to recognize soccer as a legitimate sport. We are all gun toting patriots who value the concept of the rugged individual making his own way in life!! That is why what came next was so hard to swallow.



I asked old Shotgun Hank, our current club president, what the hell was going on here. Old Hank looked at me, shook his head, and then said “Well, Long Rod, it’s bad. Really bad.” I asked him what was bad. I demanded to know what he was talking about. At that moment a tear welled up in old Shotgun Hank’s eyes. I knew something was terribly wrong. I immediately reached for the .357 magnum hanging on my side to put poor Hank out of his misery. But then I heard sobbing coming from the others around me. I looked around the crowd. I even saw crazy old Chainsaw Mike holding his head in his hands as he gently wept. I slowly put my revolver back into its holder. I figured I had better hear old Shotgun out. I asked him to continue.



Hank said “Well, Long Rod, you knowd that old dyke they recently elected as president of the local city counsel here? What’s her name? Oh yeah, Frosty Clitimus, that’s it. Well, she done up and mandated mandatory DEI training for all local businesses. And since we generate a little revenue in dues, raffles, and selling a little shine, she dun says we have to comply with them new DEI rules,”



DEI rules? I asked Hank, “What the fuck is a DEI? Does the dumb bitch not know how to spell ‘DIE’?” Hank continued, “Well sir, Long Rod, I don’t rightly knowd what DEI stands fer exactly. But apparently it means we’s all gots to go GAY now.” The cigar that had been resting in between my lips suddenly fell to the ground at my feet. I exclaimed, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN…GO GAY?!?!? WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!?” But old Hank did not answer. Instead he lowered his glare to his feet. Then another club member spoke up.



“It’s true, Long Rod. It’s all true.” It was old Wild Bill from Frogtownville, other there in Scumfuggle County, across Dogman River. Me and old Wild Bill go way back. We have something of an unpleasant history on account of his wife, Doreen, giving me the herpes when I was fucking her that weekend that Bill had to drive down to Sasquatch Hollow for his momma’s funeral. I never have forgiven old Wild Bill for his wife giving me the herps.



“Oh, what the fuck do YOU know, you sick old whore fucker!!”, I said. Bill responded, “Hey now!! You leave Doreen out of this!! I dun apologized to you over and over about my wife putting the zit virus on your ding-dong!” It was true. Bill had apologized. In an attempt at reconciliation Bill even set me up on a date with his 25 year old daughter, Loretta. However, since Lo-Lo is 375lbs, I politely declined.



“OK, Bill. Spill it. What the fuck do you know?”, I queried. Bill then continued. “See, Long Rod, if’n we don’t comply with the new woke agenda of Clit Woman, then we gits our charter revoked. She will take away our club!!!!



Another member then spoke up. It was old Napalm Ned. Ned said “Hey now, I thought that Clit woman was a dude. She dresses like a dude.” Wild Bill retorted, “Nah, she USED to be a dude, but now she is a chick, see?” Ned responded, “No, I don’t see. Is you trying to tell me that that dyke chick used to be a dude, now is a woman, with a dick, but she only likes other women, hence the dyke designation?” Bill responded, “Yeah, um, I think that is right.” After a moment Ned asked “So then, this dude turns himself into a chick but keeps his dick, which he uses to fuck other chicks who don’t like dicks?” Puzzled, old Wild Bill had to ponder on that one for a minute. Everyone was confused. I had to put a stop to this madness.



“OK, OK, who fucking cares if that fucking dyke Nazi has a dick or not, and who he fucks with it or not. I DO NOT FUCKING CARE!!! All I want to know is what does all this weird shit have to do with us here at the gun club??”, I asked.



Wild Bill then continued. “What it means, Long Rod, is that the dirty **** is going to shut us down if we do not comply with her whacked out regulations on gender.” I narrowed my eyes, paused, and then softly asked Bill, “What do we have to do?”



Bill continued. “Well, the first thing we have to do is to host a, umm, ‘drag queen story hour’ on the first Saturday of each month.” Suddenly a gunshot sounded off from behind me. The report was deafening, especially being inside a semi-enclosed area. I whirled around to see that the shot came from old Bloodshot Billy, a club elder. While we were talking about all the goofball gender shit, old Billy must have unholstered his .44 magnum and snuffed hisself out with a head shot that blew half of its contents out and all over club cook, Cooky Cuckhold, sitting next to him. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!”, I exclaimed. But I was quickly snapped out of my shock by Wild Bill’s next words.



“It gets worse, Long Rod. MUCH worse!!!”, said Bill. I turned to look at Bill. However, before he could continue explaining, another gun went off…then another!!!! Followed by 2 more!!!! Four more members blew their brains out right then and there rather than face the perverted sickness of this new city counsel president. I was in shock!! After a few moments I managed to regain my composure and I told Bill to continue.



At first there was silence from Bill. I turned my gaze to Old Wild Bill to see if the cat had got his tongue. When I turned to Bill I saw that he had his Beretta in his mouth as if he was about to off hisself too. I whacked him upside his head. “Take that little pussy shit shooter out of your mouth, Bill!! For Fuck’s sake!! You can’t kill yerself with some puny .380, ya faggot!!! Finish telling me what the fuck is going on and I will give you my .454 casull to do the job properly.” Bill looked up at me and said “Thank you, Long Rod. You have always been my best friend.



“OK, Bill, what else is there that we have to do in order to comply with that dirty bitch’s new law?”, I asked. He replied, “Well, Long Rod, it’s like this. In order to prove that we are, indeed, allies to the Frankenstein people, and not at all bigoted, we have to make love to them queers what dress like women. We gots to do it every story hour of each month, and the president of the city counsel is gonna send someone here called a ‘compliance officer’ to make sure we do it.”



A long silence followed Bill’s words. Then some more guns went off. At the end of all the shooting, there was only 3 of us remaining. Me, Shiny Shoes Joe, and Rowdy Roger. I knew that this was war. We had to hit back at the woke fuckers hard and soon!! I shared my plan with the other two surviving club members. Unfortunately, both Joe and Roger turned out to be undercover FBI agents.



I learned later on that actually half of the gun club members were undercover FBI agents. But the details on the whole woke mandates were just so gross that even most of them decided that death was a better option than living in a world where such sick, immoral atrocities are allowed to occur. I was taken into custody and charged with “conspiracy to commit American patriotism”. I have been awaiting trial for 10 years now.

 

[1srelluc]

Well at least the FBI showed-up to help.....When I belonged to the Isaac Walton League we had a range and a scheduled clean-up day.

Every fuckin' time you would go there to shoot there would be the some old geriatric assholes taking up space but on clean-up day there's nary a one of them to be found.....They were the same types that would never even think of emptying the range trash can when full.

I was go glad when I bought my own range property.....Happiness is your own range.

 

[Lord Long Rod]

Well at least the FBI showed-up to help.....When I belonged to the Isaac Walton League we had a range and a scheduled clean-up day.

Every fuckin' time you would go there to shoot there would be the some old geriatric assholes taking up space but on clean-up day there's nary a one of them to be found.....They were the same types that would never even think of emptying the range trash can when full.

I was go glad when I bought my own range property.....Happiness is your own range.

I dream about buying my own land out in the country and building a range on it. I don't know how many dump trucks of dirt it will take to build up a decent burm (it should not be many). It is very flat down here so I have to do this. Then build shooting benches with covers, which I can do. I would like to have both a pistol range and a 200 yard rifle range. My son is almost 18, so I am not far off from being able to appropriate more of my earnings to my pursuit for happiness.

 

[1srelluc]

I dream about buying my own land out in the country and building a range on it. I don't know how many dump trucks of dirt it will take to build up a decent burm (it should not be many). It is very flat down here so I have to do this. Then build shooting benches with covers, which I can do. I would like to have both a pistol range and a 200 yard rifle range. My son is almost 18, so I am not far off from being able to appropriate more of my earnings to my pursuit for happiness.

Good luck with your endeavor.

 

[Lord Long Rod]

Good luck with your endeavor.

 

[Baron Von Murderpaws]

Seems to me, all the guns were pointed at the wrong people.

 

[bodecea]

I am a proud member of a local gun club called “Shootin’ Blanks”. Twice each year we have clean-up days where all the members show up early on a Saturday morning to clean the place up, haul off trash and debris, trip up limbs, cut down trees, etc… It is also the time we do any needed maintenance work, like patching holes in the roof over the pistol range where people have unsuccessfully tried out some hot hand loads they made.



With the advent of spring this particular year, our club had its semi-annual clean-up day. We all were to meet promptly at 8:00 a.m. at the club on Saturday morning. Per usual, I showed up at 2:30 p.m. When I arrived, I noted that all the other club members were sitting around under our pavilion. I thought, “Great!! They already got the physical labor out of the way before I got here!!”. But upon exiting my truck and walking toward the pavilion I took further note of the glum and sour expressions on the members’ faces. I walked up to them and made my presence known.



“What’s up, fags? Why all the fucking droopy faces?? Did ya’ll finally find out I have been fucking yer wives?!? LOL!!!!” But there was no joy to behold from the crew. They did not even rip on me for showing up late again. They just collectively sighed and lowered their heads even more. I figured that I needed to get to the bottom of this.



See, we have 17 members of the club, including myself. We are all middle-aged white dudes who don’t take shit from anyone. Like most middled aged dudes, we are full of rage and blood-sugar medication. We are from the old school where we still salute Old Glory, still call our mamas on Sunday, and refuse to recognize soccer as a legitimate sport. We are all gun toting patriots who value the concept of the rugged individual making his own way in life!! That is why what came next was so hard to swallow.



I asked old Shotgun Hank, our current club president, what the hell was going on here. Old Hank looked at me, shook his head, and then said “Well, Long Rod, it’s bad. Really bad.” I asked him what was bad. I demanded to know what he was talking about. At that moment a tear welled up in old Shotgun Hank’s eyes. I knew something was terribly wrong. I immediately reached for the .357 magnum hanging on my side to put poor Hank out of his misery. But then I heard sobbing coming from the others around me. I looked around the crowd. I even saw crazy old Chainsaw Mike holding his head in his hands as he gently wept. I slowly put my revolver back into its holder. I figured I had better hear old Shotgun out. I asked him to continue.



Hank said “Well, Long Rod, you knowd that old dyke they recently elected as president of the local city counsel here? What’s her name? Oh yeah, Frosty Clitimus, that’s it. Well, she done up and mandated mandatory DEI training for all local businesses. And since we generate a little revenue in dues, raffles, and selling a little shine, she dun says we have to comply with them new DEI rules,”



DEI rules? I asked Hank, “What the fuck is a DEI? Does the dumb bitch not know how to spell ‘DIE’?” Hank continued, “Well sir, Long Rod, I don’t rightly knowd what DEI stands fer exactly. But apparently it means we’s all gots to go GAY now.” The cigar that had been resting in between my lips suddenly fell to the ground at my feet. I exclaimed, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN…GO GAY?!?!? WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!?” But old Hank did not answer. Instead he lowered his glare to his feet. Then another club member spoke up.



“It’s true, Long Rod. It’s all true.” It was old Wild Bill from Frogtownville, other there in Scumfuggle County, across Dogman River. Me and old Wild Bill go way back. We have something of an unpleasant history on account of his wife, Doreen, giving me the herpes when I was fucking her that weekend that Bill had to drive down to Sasquatch Hollow for his momma’s funeral. I never have forgiven old Wild Bill for his wife giving me the herps.



“Oh, what the fuck do YOU know, you sick old whore fucker!!”, I said. Bill responded, “Hey now!! You leave Doreen out of this!! I dun apologized to you over and over about my wife putting the zit virus on your ding-dong!” It was true. Bill had apologized. In an attempt at reconciliation Bill even set me up on a date with his 25 year old daughter, Loretta. However, since Lo-Lo is 375lbs, I politely declined.



“OK, Bill. Spill it. What the fuck do you know?”, I queried. Bill then continued. “See, Long Rod, if’n we don’t comply with the new woke agenda of Clit Woman, then we gits our charter revoked. She will take away our club!!!!



Another member then spoke up. It was old Napalm Ned. Ned said “Hey now, I thought that Clit woman was a dude. She dresses like a dude.” Wild Bill retorted, “Nah, she USED to be a dude, but now she is a chick, see?” Ned responded, “No, I don’t see. Is you trying to tell me that that dyke chick used to be a dude, now is a woman, with a dick, but she only likes other women, hence the dyke designation?” Bill responded, “Yeah, um, I think that is right.” After a moment Ned asked “So then, this dude turns himself into a chick but keeps his dick, which he uses to fuck other chicks who don’t like dicks?” Puzzled, old Wild Bill had to ponder on that one for a minute. Everyone was confused. I had to put a stop to this madness.



“OK, OK, who fucking cares if that fucking dyke Nazi has a dick or not, and who he fucks with it or not. I DO NOT FUCKING CARE!!! All I want to know is what does all this weird shit have to do with us here at the gun club??”, I asked.



Wild Bill then continued. “What it means, Long Rod, is that the dirty **** is going to shut us down if we do not comply with her whacked out regulations on gender.” I narrowed my eyes, paused, and then softly asked Bill, “What do we have to do?”



Bill continued. “Well, the first thing we have to do is to host a, umm, ‘drag queen story hour’ on the first Saturday of each month.” Suddenly a gunshot sounded off from behind me. The report was deafening, especially being inside a semi-enclosed area. I whirled around to see that the shot came from old Bloodshot Billy, a club elder. While we were talking about all the goofball gender shit, old Billy must have unholstered his .44 magnum and snuffed hisself out with a head shot that blew half of its contents out and all over club cook, Cooky Cuckhold, sitting next to him. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!”, I exclaimed. But I was quickly snapped out of my shock by Wild Bill’s next words.



“It gets worse, Long Rod. MUCH worse!!!”, said Bill. I turned to look at Bill. However, before he could continue explaining, another gun went off…then another!!!! Followed by 2 more!!!! Four more members blew their brains out right then and there rather than face the perverted sickness of this new city counsel president. I was in shock!! After a few moments I managed to regain my composure and I told Bill to continue.



At first there was silence from Bill. I turned my gaze to Old Wild Bill to see if the cat had got his tongue. When I turned to Bill I saw that he had his Beretta in his mouth as if he was about to off hisself too. I whacked him upside his head. “Take that little pussy shit shooter out of your mouth, Bill!! For Fuck’s sake!! You can’t kill yerself with some puny .380, ya faggot!!! Finish telling me what the fuck is going on and I will give you my .454 casull to do the job properly.” Bill looked up at me and said “Thank you, Long Rod. You have always been my best friend.



“OK, Bill, what else is there that we have to do in order to comply with that dirty bitch’s new law?”, I asked. He replied, “Well, Long Rod, it’s like this. In order to prove that we are, indeed, allies to the Frankenstein people, and not at all bigoted, we have to make love to them queers what dress like women. We gots to do it every story hour of each month, and the president of the city counsel is gonna send someone here called a ‘compliance officer’ to make sure we do it.”



A long silence followed Bill’s words. Then some more guns went off. At the end of all the shooting, there was only 3 of us remaining. Me, Shiny Shoes Joe, and Rowdy Roger. I knew that this was war. We had to hit back at the woke fuckers hard and soon!! I shared my plan with the other two surviving club members. Unfortunately, both Joe and Roger turned out to be undercover FBI agents.



I learned later on that actually half of the gun club members were undercover FBI agents. But the details on the whole woke mandates were just so gross that even most of them decided that death was a better option than living in a world where such sick, immoral atrocities are allowed to occur. I was taken into custody and charged with “conspiracy to commit American patriotism”. I have been awaiting trial for 10 years now.

Cool story, bro.

 

[tyroneweaver]

Well at least the FBI showed-up to help.....When I belonged to the Isaac Walton League we had a range and a scheduled clean-up day.

Every fuckin' time you would go there to shoot there would be the some old geriatric assholes taking up space but on clean-up day there's nary a one of them to be found.....They were the same types that would never even think of emptying the range trash can when full.

I was go glad when I bought my own range property.....Happiness is your own range.

I wanna thank you for cleaning up the gun range when I wasn't there.

 

[Rigby5]

I dream about buying my own land out in the country and building a range on it. I don't know how many dump trucks of dirt it will take to build up a decent burm (it should not be many). It is very flat down here so I have to do this. Then build shooting benches with covers, which I can do. I would like to have both a pistol range and a 200 yard rifle range. My son is almost 18, so I am not far off from being able to appropriate more of my earnings to my pursuit for happiness.

When you build a range, you do not need to truck in any dirt.
You just bulldoze long trenches, and pile it all up on the target end.
You then add some steps down on the shooter end, by the parking lot.
The advantage is if you make it deep enough, you can roof it over, make it all weather, and eliminate most of the noise.