Should I buy a gun?

Absolutely

This is easily Shaun’s weirdest and coolest Bad Advice yet and it’s a pleasure to publish it. Please help our weird little uniquely Worcester outlet grow into itself with a paid subscription! :-)

Also: check the site later today for some updates from the courthouse. Heading down there to watch our DA try to bend the justice system riiiiight to the breaking point for the benefit of the crybabies running our police unions (Eureka St. cases for Haxhiaj and Spring both have dates today). I’ll do my best to get some scene up quick. —Bill

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Dear Shaun,

Should I learn to use a gun? Should I get a gun? I consider myself a pacifist and have been terribly scared of the idea of guns. They scare me and they are scary. It feels like people are on a pretty steady path towards chaos and violence and I don’t want to be left on the sidelines. Am I being alarmist?

-Gun Shy

Dear Gun Shy,

Get a gun. Practice using that gun. Hang up all of your target practice papers up in your home. When you run out of room, put them on the outside of your home. When you run out room on the outside, cover your car in them.

Move to an open carry state. Walk around with that gun. Let people know you mean business. Walk through security with your gun, get it confiscated. As it is being taken away from TSA, announce loudly that you don’t care because you own so many guns. Let people know. Get a gun belt buckle. Wear pro-gun t-shirts with things that say, “It’s Not a Gun, It’s A Wireless Highspeed Communication Device,” or “I Like Big Guns And I Cannot Lie,” or “This Is My Emotional Support Gun.”

Encourage your family and friends to get guns. Leave them around. Wipe your nose with your gun. Take your gun in the shower. Hold your gun and cry. Take your gun on a date. Leave all your worldly possessions to your gun. “So what,” you say to your son, “I think you’ll use my money wrong.” Your son will disagree. You ask him what sorts of things he’d use your house and money for. He’ll say comfort, love and to start a family of his own. You scoff at that answer. “You should have said, ‘buy more guns.’” Then you sign your will and testament with a hollow point bullet.

You aren’t deterred by your son’s outrage over your decision. You take it in stride. You don’t run, you reload. So you go and buy another AR to calm down. You take it to a motel and prop it up on the desk in the corner. You sit, shirtless on the bed, nervous. You’re excited, but paralyzed. You want to make the first move, but that spankin’ new AR is still, stoic, playing it real cool. Cool like metal. That excites you. You think about what you’d do to that gun. Sick fantasies flood your mind. You forget you’re in the room with the new love of your life. You snap back. A wave of regret comes over you. This gun doesn’t deserve you. You’re sick. You ask if the gun wants to come in the shower with you and then you hold it and cry.

Your son calls you the next day to apologize for getting angry. You respond with some “harumphs” and coughs. You ask him if he wants to go get lunch. You tell him your new gun is coming and he says he understands. You make your son sit in the back because your gun is up front. He sighs, but he gets in back. On your way to the diner, you start talking about how you two used to go to this diner after hockey practice when your son was little. You laugh about how bad he was at hockey, but how proud you were that he stuck with it, how he tried to get better. There is a lull in the conversation, because you both realize you are not those people anymore, especially after your wife left you and took him with her.

On the drive back, you get cut off and have to stop quick. Like any good parent you instinctively throw your arm out across the passenger seat. Your gun thwacks against your forearm. You panic and scramble to put it back in place. Your thumb swipes the trigger. You’ve only shot a gun with headphones on in a gun range. You didn’t realize how shattering the explosion is. You check to see if your gun is okay, then you turn to check on your son. A bullet grazed his ear, he’s pain, but he’ll be fine. You decide to leave him your car and $10,000, to make up for shooting him. You crack a smile knowing that guns make this country stronger.

NEWS

Thanks to everyone who came out to our last two Political Action Comedy Shows for Cayden Davis and Rob Bilotta. Laughs were had and money was raised. This Thursday, if you’re in Brooklyn, I’ll be at Talon Bar in Bushwick. Coming out of the summer doldrums and looking forward to more stage time for you all to see me! Thanks for reading!