BOOOM! There went a chunk of the ceiling...

I ditched my Amazon Amy workout this morning. 

Instead, Hubster and I met up with my cousin Ringo at the gun range this morning. (Ringo is not his real name. I mean, could you imagine my Aunt naming her son Ringo? Well, first you would have to know my Aunt Nan, but still... who names their kid Ringo? Mrs. Starr did, but I think after 1965, you can't do that to a child. He got the name "Ringo" because he used to wear circular blue-tinted glasses like John Lennon. A friend got confused and started calling him after the wrong Beatle. It stuck. Hubs calls him Ringo. I call him Brad. His first name is actually William. It's a long story...)

Hubster is on left, Ringo on the right. He's a tall dude, I want to say 6'7 or something; today he was shooting a 40 caliber and 9 mm semi-automatic. Hubs had his 44 and brought along two 12 gauge shotguns. 

This is one of the shotguns that he MacGyver'd himself. Removed the stock and put in a pistol grip pump, then for funsies he painted it camo. Made for CQB (close quarter battles). 

I got in a little bit o shooting myself with my .38, then Hubs wanted me to shoot a couple rounds with the shotgun.

I'd like to say the center shot was mine, but it's not. I think I hit the upper left on this target. Then the second one I hit the ceiling of the range. Whoopsie daisy!