By Bobby Stonehouse
Not-my-Prime-Minister Justin Trudeau announced last week that Canada would be banning assault weapons, and I, for one, am P’d the F OFF. By doing this, JUSTIN has robbed me of my cultural identity. I am a mere shell of the man I once was, with nothing but memories and hundreds of littler guns to my name.
This blanket policy is disrespectful to responsible gun owners like myself. As a gun enthusiast, I know the name, location, and safe carry practices for all 337 registered firearms on my premises. Each one has a practical use: I hunt with my Remington 700 to supplement my family’s food intake. I carry a sidearm in case some maniac goes off at the Costco, and a backup in case the first sidearm runs out of bullets, or if there is more than one maniac at the Costco. In that instance, I would hold my Beretta Nano in one hand and my Sig P238 in the other, and I would spin around and shoot them real fast like in the Matrix, and it would save the day. And while the Mossberg 500 on my back is always locked and loaded, it’s just for aesthetics. You gotta look good to feel good!
Which leads me to my most important guns: all 98 of my assault weapons. Anyone who says you don’t “need” an AR-15 has clearly never hunted the most dangerous game, which is a phrase I made up to describe the bears that eat my trash. The Doritos have made them dumb, thick, and strong, and I need a military-grade weapon to protect myself from them. And before you ask about bear mace, we found out the hard way that my wife is allergic, so we can’t keep it in the house. My only option here is an AR-15, preferably with a bump stock that enables me to shoot 600 rounds per minute. It’s the only way the bears will respect me.
And what about self-defence? You ever stop a home invasion with only a Glock 26 and a 357 Magnum? That might be enough firepower for a toddler or a large dog, but an adult man needs some heft behind him. In my experience, the man dressed as a garbage collector attempting to steal the rusted-out air conditioner off of your front lawn will just laugh at you and keep going.
Plus I just bought 1500 rounds of 5.56 ammo. I suppose Justin’s gonna “””BUY””” (steal!) that back too, along with my AR-15, my Aero Precision G-15 Ghost, AND my Colt M4 Carbine? I hope you have deep pockets, pal. You’re not gonna be able to buy these for cheap out of some shmuck’s trunk like I did at the Gun Show last year.
Justin, please. I need these guns in my life. If not for the practical reasons I clearly outlined above, then for my masculine fantasies. Just as you probably have fantasies about wearing nerd sweatervests and getting cucked by your hot wife, I have fantasies about living in a safer world, where everyone is armed to the teeth with one twitchy finger lingering sensuously on a trigger. It’s the Canadian dream, and until now, I’ve been living it. Please don’t take that feeling away from people like me.
Shit, wait, sorry. I actually have 338 guns. Anyway, you get my point. My guns, cold dead hands, etc. Now, where the heck did I leave the Uzi?
