Because his employment technically qualifies as indentured servitude, I granted Photo Boy the whole day off yesterday under the auspice that I could shoot an apple off his head with an old Derringer I found. But before I do that, I felt it’d be a prudent to make him put together a whole bunch of bikini galleries because who knows how accurate this thing is. The other day I aimed it at a bird, and it fired into my foot. Is it supposed to do that? I know literally nothing about firearms. I thought the damn thing was a whistle.
Bikinis, Photo Boy, HYAH! [Insert Whip Crack Here]
February 18th, 2014 // 10 Comments