And as we started with pussy, we’re going back to that gratuitous sex theme (my place, my rules), here’s a classical take:
And back to the future:
And on that note:
Yeah I know, and I don’t care if she looks like your neighbor’s wife.
Go to work, you filthy animals.
Proving that not all Austrians are short, dark-haired dictators with a sense of destiny, Senta Berger is simply exquisite:
Oh… did somebody say “color”?
Yeah, Hitler would have hated her too… because she’s Jewish.
…in which Our Hero from TGS Outdoor tried his hand at skeet shooting for the first time last year and fell in love with the sport.
So much so that he came back this year and tried again.
There’s two wonderful, relaxing hours of viewing in the above two links, so have at it.
I’ve watched each one twice.
In passing, what I really enjoy about watching Jonny Carter is that he’s a remarkable shot — that part is undeniable — but he’s also appallingly humble. Note in the first video his unselfconscious attitude towards admitting he’s a newbie at skeet shooting, his willingness to listen to advice from the pros, and his absolute refusal to blame his performance on his borrowed, unfamiliar gear.
He’s fallen in love not just with skeet shooting, but with the entire skeet shooting family; and I bet they love this gangling Brit with his quiet, self-effacing humor just as much.
I don’t know who this girl is, but I like the way she thinks.
Thanks to all Readers who helped me out with the estate sale of the late Jim Siegler’s cherished Krag-Jorgensen carbine.
We reached our reserve (actually, a few bucks over which, with your permission, I’ll use for the shipping of said weapon to the lucky winner).
Oh, and speaking of the lucky winner, Reader Michael Y. needs to email me his FFL’s details. Unfortunately today and tomorrow both find me snowed under with busywork, but I’ll take care of the transfer early next week. Congratulations, Mike!
The money has been sent to Irish.
Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I have the best Readers on the Internet.
Here’s a trend that should need no warning, but clearly one should be made:
Deaths on safari are on the rise, with several reports in the last 18 months alone.
The most recent case of this was in July 2025, when a British tourist and her friend from New Zealand were killed by a charging elephant during a ‘sunrise safari walk’ in Zambia.
In July 2024, a Spanish tourist was horrifically crushed to death in front of his screaming fiancee by an angry herd of elephants after he got out of his car to take photographs in a South African game reserve.
Two months prior to that, Lisa Manders, 70, from the US state of Connecticut, was killed by a hippo in Zambia, while out on a ‘bush walk’ during a dream safari trip with her husband Craig.
And in April last year, a crazed bull elephant attacked tourists on safari in Zambia, leaving an American woman dead, after chasing a safari truck for more than half a mile through a national park.
Earlier this month, terrifying footage emerged of an elephant flipping over a safari canoe and trying to crush a woman to death in the Okavango Delta in Botswana.
Folks, hear me now: the African bush is a really, really dangerous place. If there’s one thing that Africa excels at, it’s finding ways to kill you. Whether sickness (pick one from a list of literally hundreds), insects like scorpions or spiders, reptiles like snakes or crocodiles, and most horribly, some of the animals above — any time you step outside a shelter of some kind, you are no longer the apex predator.
Just remember that all over Africa, professional hunters — even those who excel in bushcraft and are excellent shots with their large-caliber rifles — cannot get life insurance, at any price. And if these tough bastards are likely to die from any of the above, vulnerable little you are going to be like a marshmallow treat to a lion, leopard or whatever.
Game watching in Africa is a glorious experience. I’ve done it myself, more times than I can count. But I always stayed in my car — hell, most of the time I wouldn’t even roll down the window — because when it comes to Things That Bite, I am the world’s biggest coward, and I admit it unashamedly.
And when it comes to hunting, I am an even bigger coward. I’ve never hunted Cape buffalo, for example, because they scare the shit out of me — even more so than lions, where I’ve had some modest success. In case you’re wondering, there’s a true story of a guy who whacked a buff, and when looking over the dead animal, found not only his but two “extra” bullet holes in its hide; bullet holes that had healed, without affecting the animal’s health in any serious way. (Turns out they were AK-47 7.62x39mm bullets, i.e. from poacher’s gun, which is instructive as to the inadequacy of using any light cartridge on these beasts.)
There is no amount of money that would get me into a canoe on any body of water out there in the African bush.
“Dangerous game” in Africa is not a misnomer, and the worst thing about African predators is how incredibly fast they are when it comes to getting their prey. Sure, people have survived attacks before; but as any African bookie will tell you, that’s not the way to bet.
And getting out of the safety of your vehicle just to get a close-up shot of an animal? Sheesh, that’s why some smart guy invented the telephoto lens. You would be quite safe inside one of those M1 Abrams tanks, of course; but the minute you step outside to have a pee, you will become an instant menu item and Africa, most assuredly, will win again.