Okay, so this weekend was pretty darn eventful!

Remember the shock collars from last week?  Yep, same players, once again participants in the latest, and so far most ridiculous, weekend event..


So, my husband and his buddies are gun fanatics.  Not to be confused with gun wielding fanatics.  Okay so there might be one exception to that, who shall remain nameless... for now. 

We had a nice day in the city planned for Sunday.  You know, just me and the hubs, hanging out and spending some time together.  As we are getting ready to leave, one of my husband's buddies calls and wants to go to the shooting range.  As there is absolutely no point in trying to redirect my husband's attention to our original plans, I just went along with it.  It's much easier that way.  Plus I kind of like shooting guns myself so why not?  And out of the RV marches my husband carrying more weapons than probably most men going into combat.  Me, "Is it necessary to take every gun you've got?"  Hubs, "Well yeah, duh."  And to the gun range we go.

My husband's buddies meet us there and after everybody unloads all of their guns and ammo we pretty much have an arsenal at this point. AK's, shotguns, handguns, rifles, you name it.  Everybody is taking turns shooting this gun and that gun and discussing what they like best about each one, blah, blah, blah...  At this point we're just going to refer to these four guys as Mr. Blonde, Mr. Pink, Mr. Orange and Mr. Dumbass.  Personalities fit.  Thank you Reservoir Dogs.  Love that movie!  Mr. Dumbass is a, let's say, experienced marksman.

Mr. Blonde, Mr. Orange and Mr. Dumbass are taking turns shooting at a 200 yard target.  Quite frankly I was talking with Mr. Pink at the time so I can't even tell you what they were shooting with or at.  Mr. Dumbass was in the process of shooting when there was some conversation going on about not being able to see if he was hitting his target, even with his binoculars, which suddenly caught Mr. Pink's attention since he apparently has super human eyesight.  Thank God. As Mr. Pink is scanning the 200 yard target for bullet holes, he calmly says, "Hey, is that smoke?" 

First of all I really wasn't paying attention to what was going on.  I think I was texting or facebooking or something.  I heard him say it, I just didn't really pay much attention... that is until Mr. Blonde, Mr. Pink, Mr. Orange and Mr. Dumbass literally throw down their guns and bail in my Jeep.  As Mr. Blonde (aka the hubs) drives past me in the Jeep he throws his cell phone at me and hollers, "Call 911!"  I just looked at him like, really?  He just got that phone last week!  He's damn lucky I caught it.  Drama queen.

After standing there for a couple of minutes watching the four of them, debating about whether I should really call 911, they suddenly pull the target board out of the ground.  Now mind you, near as I can tell this is like a 4x8 sheet of plywood, I'm guessing pretty thick plywood, and it's attached to posts that one would presume are stuck in the ground fairly well to keep it upright.  They pulled the entire thing, posts and all, out of the ground and are flopping it around.  At that point I'm thinking, what are those damn fools doing out there???   Oooooooh, I probably should call 911... 

911: "911 state your emergency."
KMAC: "We started a fire at the P*** M******** shooting range.
911:  "Can I have your name?"
KMAC:  "Uhhhhhh... KMAC."
911:  "What's your emergency?"
KMAC: "Huh?  We started a fire at the P*** M******** shooting range."
911: "The what?"
KMAC:  "The P*** M******** shooting range."
911:  "What's the address?"
KMAC:  "Address?  I don't know the friggin address!  We're at the bleep bleep bleep shooting range!"
911:  "Ok.  A fire at the P*** M******** shooting range."
KMAC: "Yes, and from the looks of things these guys aren't going to be able to put it out by themselves!"
911:  "Ok."
CLICK

Really?  911 just hangs up on people?  No confirmation number, no instructions, no thanks for calling goodbye?  Apparently not.

After the fire spread and got totally out of control, Mr. Blonde, Mr. Pink, Mr. Orange and Mr. Dumbass drove back up the range to where I was standing.  I relayed the 911 call to them and suggested it might be more effective if one of us drove down to the fire department, two blocks away, and let them know there's a fire.  No vote of confidence for the 911 dispatcher at this point in the game.  So Mr. Orange drives down to the fire department to make the announcement.  Fortunately, they had just received the call and were ready to roll.  Unfortunately, it's a volunteer fire department, meaning they don't have much equipment or many volunteers.  Out of the five volunteer firefighters they have, four of them were drunk.  Oh yes, as skunks!  We just stood there shaking our heads, looking at one another with the Scooby Doo, eerrrrhhh? 

As we're sitting there watching three small firetrucks, four drunken firefighters and one sober firefighter attempt to get a wildly out of control grass fire under control, Mr. Dumbass's wife just happened to drive by on her way back from the laundromat and strangely enough noticed the raging fire.  Probably didn't help that we had an audience parked on the highway either.  If I only had a picture of her face when she got out of the car.  Her first words were, "Do I even want to know?"  Which drew a unanimous NO!  Then she said, "Who started it?  Wait, let me guess, Mr. Dumbass."  To which we all just shook our heads yes.  Had to throw somebody under the bus, we ain't all going down for this one!

Then the fire chief shows up.  He informed us straight away upon his arrival, and I quote, "We like to drink beer, not put out fires." No shit.  Who would've guessed?  We hung around for a couple of hours, just in case anybody wanted to talk to us, you know, get our names, info, how the fire started, anything like that.  The fire chief finally came back up to where we were standing and the hubs walks over to his pickup and asks him if we needed to stick around or anything.  The fire chief says, and again I quote, "Nope, shit happens," and drove off.  From what we hear they got the fire put out around 11:00 that night.  I bet it was a long day for those boys.

The next day Mr. Dumbass delivered two cases of beer to the fire station as an apology and a thank you.  But I bet he lost his membership to the shooting club...

Later that evening we decided to have a cookout.  Ironic, I know.

Things we've learned this week that once again have nothing to do with living in an RV park:
1.  No matter how humid the climate is, dry grass can still catch fire.
2.  When your husband tells you to call 911, you should probably do it, immediately..
3.  Always carry a fire extinguisher to the shooting range.  A shovel would probably be handy too.
4.  Support your local volunteer fire department.  They need all the help they can get!
5.  If you are a volunteer fire fighter, you probably shouldn't drink if you are on call.  Just sayin.