If you are ever at a loss of what to do on a Saturday night in Oakley, head up to the Diversion, and shoot paint balls at beer cans. Yee-HAW. Who needs culture?
I always laugh when Dave breaks out his paintball gun. As of last year we have stored the said weapon underneath our couch in the living room. It happened right about the time our neighbors got a Shetland pony,and we got a new cedar fence. My Dad was visiting, and we were enjoying a lovely spring morning, and a leisurely breakfast around the kitchen. My back was to the window at the time, but I remember my Dad starting to chuckle at something behind me, and when Dave and I turned around to see the Pony scratching his ass on the fence, causing it to bow, it got ugly fast.
Dave is light on his feet but it's been awhile since I had seen him move with such gusto. After a few choice expletives he high jumped the couch, swung around the banister and took the stairs two at a time, where we lost sight of him, but followed the sound of his pounding feet and his swears, to the attic. Moments later, he leapt over the banister with a large Tupperware container, and a look of death glinting in his eyes. I nervously smiled at my Dad, and we both watched in shock as Dave twisted and locked and assembled his paintball gun, all the time muttering and possibly, speaking in tongues.
Still filling the chamber with ammo, Dave tripped out the door, clad only in shorts and his undershirt, and ran barefoot, screaming at the Shetland. Moments before Dave got his first shot off, the Pony casually stepped away from the fence. I gave my Dad a few more, "Heh, hehs, he doesn't get ballistic ALL the time" and watched as Dave screamed at the Pony, to keep it's ASS of our FENCE. We started to giggle watching Dave gingerly pick his way back from the field, and just as he got to the back door, that Pony must have gotten another tickle, because he went to town, and Dave went berserk.
Tonight we just shot at beer cans. It was great fun, and is always one of the Hoodlums favorite things to do.
I always laugh when Dave breaks out his paintball gun. As of last year we have stored the said weapon underneath our couch in the living room. It happened right about the time our neighbors got a Shetland pony,and we got a new cedar fence. My Dad was visiting, and we were enjoying a lovely spring morning, and a leisurely breakfast around the kitchen. My back was to the window at the time, but I remember my Dad starting to chuckle at something behind me, and when Dave and I turned around to see the Pony scratching his ass on the fence, causing it to bow, it got ugly fast.
Dave is light on his feet but it's been awhile since I had seen him move with such gusto. After a few choice expletives he high jumped the couch, swung around the banister and took the stairs two at a time, where we lost sight of him, but followed the sound of his pounding feet and his swears, to the attic. Moments later, he leapt over the banister with a large Tupperware container, and a look of death glinting in his eyes. I nervously smiled at my Dad, and we both watched in shock as Dave twisted and locked and assembled his paintball gun, all the time muttering and possibly, speaking in tongues.
Still filling the chamber with ammo, Dave tripped out the door, clad only in shorts and his undershirt, and ran barefoot, screaming at the Shetland. Moments before Dave got his first shot off, the Pony casually stepped away from the fence. I gave my Dad a few more, "Heh, hehs, he doesn't get ballistic ALL the time" and watched as Dave screamed at the Pony, to keep it's ASS of our FENCE. We started to giggle watching Dave gingerly pick his way back from the field, and just as he got to the back door, that Pony must have gotten another tickle, because he went to town, and Dave went berserk.
Tonight we just shot at beer cans. It was great fun, and is always one of the Hoodlums favorite things to do.
This particular picture may come back to haunt us someday. Come to think of it, many of Dyl's pictures have the same caption.I am a little worried.
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