The way she was holding it in the video I would think that it does have a pistol grip, but she obviously didn't have a grip.
Sh... you see at the range
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General Zod
TGT Addict
Idiots in the next bay with a pistol that has a green laser. Laser wobbling all around the bullseye, bullet holes appearing in the lower left corner of the target. They never did figure out that the laser needed to be sighted in...or that it even could be.
General Zod
TGT Addict
These geniuses were also firing buckshot at an indoor range, and I can't even remember the stupid crap they were doing with their AR. Someone had gone on a spending spree on guns, ammo and accessories but didn't actually get any instruction on their use, as far as I can tell.
Gilgondorin
Active Member
It happened one time when I went with a group of friends rifle shooting one afternoon and decided to take a break. In walking the pistol range, I stopped to watch a guy I noticed having problems with a handgun; at first I merely thought he'd been the victim of a bum deal because he loaded the mag, chambered a round, and nothing happened. Click. This went on another 2-3 times before I noticed that there was some difficulty in chambering/extracting rounds, and it finally double-fed.
Normally, I don't approach anyone on the range except for safety violations, but this started looking less like a lemon any my concern shifted to him possibly having something like a squib stuck in the barrel, and was about to accidentally blow his own face off. However, when he handed the gun to me, I didn't even get to rack the slide when a 100% completely intact cartridge -- slug, brass, primer, and all -- literally fell out of the muzzle.
It turned out he'd run afoul of a "Honeydew" mag, as in "Honey, dew me a favor 'n load my mags for me please", which was said to a wife/girlfriend who got an A for effort but was either careless or more likely supportive of his hobby but without much firsthand knowledge about guns. Near as I can tell she started randomly squishing some of whatever bullets were in the box at the top of his range bag into it and handed it back, and in the process had unwittingly loaded some .40S&W cartridges from a different gun into his .45ACP magazines.
However, I HAVE been one table over from a sear failure in an AK-47. Although it didn't rattle off the whole magazine like I expected, the shooter definitely got off more than one round on that trigger pull.
We also witnessed a doctor roll up with four several thousand dollar rifles at one point and book the last 4 tables on the hundred yard range to himself, then proceed to shoot up the Earth backstop -- or our target -- from at times up to 2-3 tables away. The RSO came to chew US out for missing, and it wasn't until he came back to reprimand 'us' a second time that the good doctor was kind enough to pull a shot and hit the dirt as we had our backs turned to our rifle, talking with the RSO. The Doc finally got his talking-to after that and didn't last too much longer before packing up for the day.
Finally, I've also had a clown "forget" multiple times -- even after we corrected him -- hold a lever action rifle between his knees pointed at me and by extension the rest of the firing line while he stuffed a fist full of cartridges into it.
Normally, I don't approach anyone on the range except for safety violations, but this started looking less like a lemon any my concern shifted to him possibly having something like a squib stuck in the barrel, and was about to accidentally blow his own face off. However, when he handed the gun to me, I didn't even get to rack the slide when a 100% completely intact cartridge -- slug, brass, primer, and all -- literally fell out of the muzzle.
It turned out he'd run afoul of a "Honeydew" mag, as in "Honey, dew me a favor 'n load my mags for me please", which was said to a wife/girlfriend who got an A for effort but was either careless or more likely supportive of his hobby but without much firsthand knowledge about guns. Near as I can tell she started randomly squishing some of whatever bullets were in the box at the top of his range bag into it and handed it back, and in the process had unwittingly loaded some .40S&W cartridges from a different gun into his .45ACP magazines.
However, I HAVE been one table over from a sear failure in an AK-47. Although it didn't rattle off the whole magazine like I expected, the shooter definitely got off more than one round on that trigger pull.
We also witnessed a doctor roll up with four several thousand dollar rifles at one point and book the last 4 tables on the hundred yard range to himself, then proceed to shoot up the Earth backstop -- or our target -- from at times up to 2-3 tables away. The RSO came to chew US out for missing, and it wasn't until he came back to reprimand 'us' a second time that the good doctor was kind enough to pull a shot and hit the dirt as we had our backs turned to our rifle, talking with the RSO. The Doc finally got his talking-to after that and didn't last too much longer before packing up for the day.
Finally, I've also had a clown "forget" multiple times -- even after we corrected him -- hold a lever action rifle between his knees pointed at me and by extension the rest of the firing line while he stuffed a fist full of cartridges into it.
Lunyfringe
Well-Known
I accidentally inserted an M&P9c mag into my 40c once... kinda went "pffbt" (not even capital letters). I figured it was a squib, so I pulled the mag and ejected the spent casing- then I saw the ribs on the mag (which are only on 9mm mags) I wonder what the muzzle velocity was on that...
I have seen enough crazy things at public ranges from kids running down range while the line is hot, to being sweeped and several other unsafe acts. Now unless I am out shooting on private property I prefer private tactical bays just for berm protection. Every indoor range I have been to had the ceilings and walls and sometimes tables riddled with holes. That is a lot of negligence.
"Chick with low cut top, ready to catch hot empties with her boobage"
And all the men fanning each other while focused on nothing but the boobage.
In the AF at the range. Instructor trying to calm non shooters about their perceived fear of 12 gauge recoil. Loads one in an ancient Winchester holds it up to his chin and fires the gun. He had slit the case beforehand. Lots of oohs and awws from the trainees. First shooter learns the truth and informs the instructor he wants to shoot them bullets the instructor was shooting. Request denied.
And all the men fanning each other while focused on nothing but the boobage.
In the AF at the range. Instructor trying to calm non shooters about their perceived fear of 12 gauge recoil. Loads one in an ancient Winchester holds it up to his chin and fires the gun. He had slit the case beforehand. Lots of oohs and awws from the trainees. First shooter learns the truth and informs the instructor he wants to shoot them bullets the instructor was shooting. Request denied.
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That describes Red's in Pflugerville perfectly. There are bullet holes literally EVERYWHERE that there are not supposed to be holes. Not to mention getting muzzle swept EVERY time I've been in there. Needless to say, I NEVER go in there anymore.
I'm not usually a screaming range Nazi unless I see something going on that is seriously unsafe.
Remember, we all had to start somewhere and most folks have nowhere near the trigger time we do.
A gentle reminder usually works.
That is unless you've met Roy.
Roy was a co-worker of mine. He had this thing about powerful guns and ammo.
It just HAD to be atomic cannon power in his reloads.
One fine day Roy and I went to the range to do a little shooting.
Roy unpacked a nice Winchester Model 70 Lightweight bolt-action rifle chambered in .30-06.
I groaned knowing the recoil from said beast was bad enough with factory rounds. Unknown to me Good Old Roy had some souped up reloads "to make them better" I was later told.
So Roy gets to setting up the bench, sand bags, etc, while I, on the bench beside and a few feet back from Roy's bench, set up and focused the spotting scope. Turning my ball cap around so the brim wouldn't interfere with the scopes eyepiece I concentrated on the target while Good Ol Roy chambered a round and settled down to fire a shot.
When the round went off I was concussed by a blast wave so violent MY HAT BLEW OFF MY HEAD. The overhead tin roof did a tsunami wave, slamming back down causing dirt dauber nests to rain down upon us. The spotting scope was knocked half-way off the table.
As I patted the fire out in my eyebrows I asked Roy "What the bloody f**k was THAT?!?!?!" Just some of my betterer handloads!
Oh and the bullet hole in the target was nowhere to be seen.
Busy with re-setting the spotting scope I failed to watch Roy as he opened the bolt and rechambered. He settled in for another shot as I watched the rifle as it went off.
My hat was laying on the ground and my hands were firmly grasping the scope tripod this time.
When the rifle fired I watched in awe as a ball of flame the size of a VW Beetle appeared and again the sonic wave of heat and concussion smacked me.
More dirt dauber nests fell on us.
About this time another shooter from WAAAY down on the other end of the firing line approached. He asked politely, WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS SHOOTING?!?!?! I just pointed at Roy. Ask him I said as I put out the fire in my hair. Roy was now groaning and holding his shoulder. His face was a pale white from pain.
This is when I noticed Roy couldn't get the bolt to open on his rifle.
This is also about when Roy took hold of a wooden block, a 4x4 wooden block, and began to beat open the bolt on his rifle. I'm standing there looking at this with a mix of amazement and fear in my heart.
Examining the fired brass casing was like looking at a road kill. It was smushed so badly the head stampings were almost unreadable.
Now Good Ol Roy starts to chamber another round. This is when I got up and walked back to the pick-up truck and stood behind it. I yelled GO AHEAD. I'm good over here.
When the third round went off the pick-up truck MOVED.
By now Good Ol Roy had had enough of his betterer ammo. Wiping the blood running from his nose he beat the bolt open and returned the rifle to the rack.
That's enough of that he said. Thank God.
The he asked me if I wanted to shoot his rifle. Naaaaa.......I'm good.
Remember, we all had to start somewhere and most folks have nowhere near the trigger time we do.
A gentle reminder usually works.
That is unless you've met Roy.
Roy was a co-worker of mine. He had this thing about powerful guns and ammo.
It just HAD to be atomic cannon power in his reloads.
One fine day Roy and I went to the range to do a little shooting.
Roy unpacked a nice Winchester Model 70 Lightweight bolt-action rifle chambered in .30-06.
I groaned knowing the recoil from said beast was bad enough with factory rounds. Unknown to me Good Old Roy had some souped up reloads "to make them better" I was later told.
So Roy gets to setting up the bench, sand bags, etc, while I, on the bench beside and a few feet back from Roy's bench, set up and focused the spotting scope. Turning my ball cap around so the brim wouldn't interfere with the scopes eyepiece I concentrated on the target while Good Ol Roy chambered a round and settled down to fire a shot.
When the round went off I was concussed by a blast wave so violent MY HAT BLEW OFF MY HEAD. The overhead tin roof did a tsunami wave, slamming back down causing dirt dauber nests to rain down upon us. The spotting scope was knocked half-way off the table.
As I patted the fire out in my eyebrows I asked Roy "What the bloody f**k was THAT?!?!?!" Just some of my betterer handloads!
Oh and the bullet hole in the target was nowhere to be seen.
Busy with re-setting the spotting scope I failed to watch Roy as he opened the bolt and rechambered. He settled in for another shot as I watched the rifle as it went off.
My hat was laying on the ground and my hands were firmly grasping the scope tripod this time.
When the rifle fired I watched in awe as a ball of flame the size of a VW Beetle appeared and again the sonic wave of heat and concussion smacked me.
More dirt dauber nests fell on us.
About this time another shooter from WAAAY down on the other end of the firing line approached. He asked politely, WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS SHOOTING?!?!?! I just pointed at Roy. Ask him I said as I put out the fire in my hair. Roy was now groaning and holding his shoulder. His face was a pale white from pain.
This is when I noticed Roy couldn't get the bolt to open on his rifle.
This is also about when Roy took hold of a wooden block, a 4x4 wooden block, and began to beat open the bolt on his rifle. I'm standing there looking at this with a mix of amazement and fear in my heart.
Examining the fired brass casing was like looking at a road kill. It was smushed so badly the head stampings were almost unreadable.
Now Good Ol Roy starts to chamber another round. This is when I got up and walked back to the pick-up truck and stood behind it. I yelled GO AHEAD. I'm good over here.
When the third round went off the pick-up truck MOVED.
By now Good Ol Roy had had enough of his betterer ammo. Wiping the blood running from his nose he beat the bolt open and returned the rifle to the rack.
That's enough of that he said. Thank God.
The he asked me if I wanted to shoot his rifle. Naaaaa.......I'm good.
In the Army, my Drill Sgt introduced a 32 man group of M14 shooters to the M16 by holding the butt against his crotch & doing a mag dump. Quite impressive.
Another couple of range stories about good old Roy.
One day he shows up with a Desert Eagle in .44magnum.
Now mind you this was quite a few years back when the DE was newish and quite expensive.
He shows up some more of his famous betterer ammo and begins to blast away.
Huge muzzle blast and tremendous recoil are standard issue now.
Things are proceeding along with a minimum of singed hair and bleeding eyeballs when the gun starts to malfunction.
A few minutes of examination discovered why. He had been firing CAST BULLETS in the gun. The owners manual specifically forbids use of cast bullets in the DE because the lead builds up in the gas tube, plugging it, and cannot be removed by normal cleaning methods.
So Good Ol Roy now has a deadlined $1300 handgun. He is not happy.
A few days later I asked him what he was going to do with the DE?
Maybe send it back to IMI and see if they can repair it?
Naaaaaaa..........
He replied he had remedied the situation. He used a propane torch to HEAT UP THE GAS TUBE AREA TO RED HOT TO MELT OUT THE LEAD in the gas tube.
Then one day he called me telling me he had bought an airplane and wanted to take me flying. Naaaa....I'm good.
One day he shows up with a Desert Eagle in .44magnum.
Now mind you this was quite a few years back when the DE was newish and quite expensive.
He shows up some more of his famous betterer ammo and begins to blast away.
Huge muzzle blast and tremendous recoil are standard issue now.
Things are proceeding along with a minimum of singed hair and bleeding eyeballs when the gun starts to malfunction.
A few minutes of examination discovered why. He had been firing CAST BULLETS in the gun. The owners manual specifically forbids use of cast bullets in the DE because the lead builds up in the gas tube, plugging it, and cannot be removed by normal cleaning methods.
So Good Ol Roy now has a deadlined $1300 handgun. He is not happy.
A few days later I asked him what he was going to do with the DE?
Maybe send it back to IMI and see if they can repair it?
Naaaaaaa..........
He replied he had remedied the situation. He used a propane torch to HEAT UP THE GAS TUBE AREA TO RED HOT TO MELT OUT THE LEAD in the gas tube.
Then one day he called me telling me he had bought an airplane and wanted to take me flying. Naaaa....I'm good.
I bet that puppy is LOUD.
Crossed my mind.
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