Wherein I should have just let it be...

This morning, while I was half reading, half looking out the window to catch the squirrel on its morning laps across the backyard, I looked down at the painted black G22 I was going to use to dispatch aforementioned rodent, and began the thought that I wished it was camouflaged.

Which made me laugh out loud because I realized that I had come full circle.

What I've referred to as the git-r-done paint job on the G22 was actually what made me buy it. Technically. The Git-r-done model was discontinued, which caused my local dealer to knock $100 off of it. Without that redneck reduction, I wouldn't have bought it, and I wouldn't have had the chance to grow to love my stupid space gun so much that I want another. But that came later. At first, I was a little embarrassed of my woodland wabbit whacker.

I tolerated it for a long time, but eventually the siren's song of the rattle can won out. Having started my Gunnyship a bit more tacticool than I might care to admit, it got a flat black spray job. Except I was too cool to wait, so one half is done properly to a matte finish, and the other half was done too fast and is glossy. It was fine like this, because it only saw the range, but in Kentucky, it can, and has been, pushed into the more official duty of critter cranium cavitator, and in that task, a broken pattern is easier to hide than a big black block.

I'll look for a way to remove the paint and see if I can return it to its former underappreciated skin (maybe profuse apology will work), but if I can't make that happen, I just may get more serious about that ol' razzle dazzle...