16 - Airsoft: Serious Business


Airsoft is life kiddos, and if you don’t believe that, you can fuck right off to whatever pansy-ass slingshot club you came from!

This ain’t paintball, ladies. You ain’t geocaching with Mary What’s-her-fuck on the college campus and you sure as shit ain’t firing simunition! This are genuine twelve-grain hell-balls of pure Chinese plastic death flying at you faster than you can say pounds per fucking square inch. If you can’t handle that, best run home to your mamas, because this is not the weekend hobby for you!

There ain’t nothing, and I mean not-a-one-god-damn-single-ass-thing can prepare you to stare down the 5mm barrel of an Umarex. I’ve seen many a boy who thought he was a man shit his pants and turn tail the first time he heard a pop on his face shield, so gird whatever the fuck it is you call your loins, fuckfaces, because you can be god damn sure I’ll be posting video of your deserting ass on the group’s facebook page, and you don’t even want to think about how many tens ­– I shit you not, literally tens – of followers will see your shameful retreat.

I don’t want any of you ungrateful fucks saying a fucking thing about my dear mother’s cooking. I don’t see any of you stupid shits bringing snacks, even though Harold clearly said last time he was going to provide refreshments this time, and she did the best she fucking could on short notice. Snacks are implied in refreshments” Harold. It doesn’t just mean fucking Ecto-Cooler, even though that’s totally the best juice box.

Last thing, shitstains. I want one hundred percent proper opsec in this group. I don't need any of you loose-lipped suck-starters telling Phil about this group. You all know that asswipe cheats and holy shit is he annoying, so don't let me catch you inviting him. I don't give two motherfucks how hot his sister is!