After shooting over dozen big, fat, delicious cow elk, i used to fantasize about putting thr crosshairs on a giant, seven point bull, and squeezing off the trigger.

Now, 1999.that bull has morphed into a sloppy, fat, butterball with a long red tie. The crosshairs note the entry point, less than half an inch wide. The exit wound, from the 180 grain hollow point traveling at 3100 FPS is the interesting part. You could stick your fist in it.

Disney has a fancy Fantasyland. Mine is much more simple. An impossible fantasy, but oh, so sweet...anything inside 500 yds, with a good rest.

An old man can dream, right?

Head, chest or crotch? Some slo mo Quentin Tarantino gore porn would be nice....
Am not gonna chase him down, but if the Russian backed conman comes up the #1 or #9 Fairway, just off my backyard, he’s dead meat, and the world parties, like its 1999.