better'n' sunbeams.

1943.
that's some sh!t.
smack dab in the middle of the big one.
y'know,
WWII.
remember how the germans got sandwiched
between two massive monsters of military mayhem?
well,
i treated myself to something from the east side
of the resulting berlin wall, y'all....
da, komrade.
i got some residual soviet hottness,
straight outta '43,
in F*ing full-functioning historical raditude.
check the teleport, marty mcfly-guys:

back to the future, mutha-uckas.
mosin-nagant.
7.62 x 54mm.
that means (for you uninformed waterbabies)
that this lean, mean, woodsly mama-jama
puts out big bullets from big cartridges,
one at a time, like a big steel bolt action blastin'
hammerin', sickle-slicin' red bear.
wooord.
man-sized copper-jacketed calamities, kids.
we got they!!! 
old timey wood-stock sexy eleven-type jauns.
that's how you combat weeks of watery weak-sauce.
...with archaic combat rifles, duders.
long-shot straight-shooting turbo-dopeness?
yes indeed.
the sun didn't bother to come out,
but the day seemed brighter regardless.
***********
upper receivers for the ZERO rifles are in.
which means that a late june reality looks promising
for all the zombie defense system rifles.
in anticipation,
i also hooked up with a burly bin of bullets, b!tches.

ammo cans are so sexy.
on my kitchen table,
first thing in the morning, whaaaat?!
tea, and toast, and american-made brass, son!
5.56 nato hard-styles, my ninjas.
without ammunition,
you're just playing dress-up.
and while that kind of second-childhood childishness
is completely acceptable in my book,
i prefer the over-readied ever readiness
of having too much.
that's the right amount after all.
yeah.
look:

it goes to eleven.
c'mon.
firearms. fire. arms.
all good things,
all the time;
never quiet, never soft.....