Q. Uncle Dick, are there any legal requirements I need to be aware of when cleaning my rifles at home? My slightly retarded cousin reckons you need to lock yourself in a room with no windows whilst cleaning your rifles.
A. Your cousin is pretty well on the money for a retard. I usually get my dog to lock me inside the gun safe whilst I clean my rifles. Sure it's a bit cramped but I sleep better at night knowing how safe I've been. My mate doesn't have a dog, so I often go to his place to lock him in his safe while he cleans his guns....though last time I forgot to go back and let him out till a few days later. He's pretty much a complete vegetable these days, thanks to the bottle of Sweets 7.62 he knocked over whilst waiting for me to return.
Q. Dick, do you know of a gunsmith that can fit a flash suppressor to my .22? I suffer from temporary blindness from the huge muzzle flash from my .22 whilst spotlighting.
A. I suspect the temporary blindness is caused by something other than the flash from your .22, more likely a result of some form of self gratification. Just to be safe though, I suggest you always wear a sturdy Australian Standards certified welding mask whilst spotlighting. Your friends will be impressed, I know I would be.
Q. Hi Uncle Dick, I'm having a lot of trouble shooting with any sort of accuracy. My wife reckons I might have a problem with my dominant eye. Do you think my wife might be right? I've enclosed a photo of myself to see what you reckon.
A. Yeah your wife might be right about the dominant eye problem. The question is, which eye and do either of them work? I wouldn't mind betting your mum & dad are also brother and sister, which is unfortunate for you and doesn't really help with your problem. I'd just get someone to poke out one of your eyes, for my money one fucked eye is better than two and you can watch your favourite show on just the one TV set. And please tell me you've had the wife and yourself fixed up, though I'm sure you'd produce some real pretty kids.
Q. Uncle Dick, I've started on a new property and have been regularly banging a few Hares. Can you pass on your favourite recipe for cooking up a Hare?
A. Don't let the RSPCA catch you doing that mate, just stick to shooting them. Someone must be having a lend of you if they put you up to asking me anything about cooking. I take zero interest in cooking and am very suspicious of any bloke with cooking recipes in the back of their reloading manual. Just gut and clean the Hare and depending on the method of cremation, either leave it whole or break into smaller pieces so they fit a fry pan. Stick it on a roaring fire and once the smoke clears it should be right to eat. Over time, my body has adapted to process food in virtually any state, therefore making fancy restaurants and cooking skills largely redundant. I suggest you do the same.
Q. Dick, I'm so fed up with the shrieks of horror and calls for more gun laws by the pathetic media every time some criminal uses a gun to murder someone. What can be done to protect our sport and stop all this bad publicity?
A. I think it's a matter of education really. You see the law at the moment states that 'it is illegal to kill somebody'. Until we can get that law amended to say "it is really really illegal to kill somebody', I'm not sure people will stop murdering each other. In the meantime if we get proactive and start up local help groups for neighbourhood criminals where we educate them by pointing out the huge savings that can be made by using a screwdriver, axe or claw hammer instead of a firearm. Criminals are reasonable people, and if you can show the savings that can be had over the thousands it costs to buy a gun on the black market, I'd be surprised if they didn't listen. The money saved could go towards that new chemistry set for the crack lab. There are some really practical alternatives to firearms for the criminal. Turning up to a turf war with a chainsaw is going to impress a lot of people and gain respect for the image conscious gang banger. The cops are quite happy with these arrangements too, much better to shoot some prick brandishing a claw hammer than a gun, looks like a gun too if you squint a little. It's a win win situation for all concerned.
Q. Uncle Dick, I'm in the process of working up some serious loads for my .338 Winchester Magnum. I'm keeping an eye out for any pressure signs, but what is a real obvious sign I've exceeded a maximum safe load?
A. Waking up in the emergency department is a good indicator that you gave it a fair nudge. Remember to reduce your load by a few grains after you're discharged from hospital and regain the use of your hands.
Q. Hello Uncle Dickie, um can you tell me what the best setting for my air conditioner is and also, will the cops book me if I have my shirt sleeve out the window? What's the best spotlight for scaring people away? Sorry if my questions seem a bit strange....I'm a deep thinker.
A. Yes you are, and once you start at that special school I'm sure you will be amongst lots of deep thinkers. I'm not sure whether you are just pure & simple or you've been sniffing the product of the same name. Thank you for reminding us all of just how precious it is to have a functioning brain, I wish you well and my condolences to your family.
Q. Uncle Dick, discussing various state firearm laws with the mates the other day gave me time to reflect. I reckon a lie detector test and psychiatric assessment should be mandatory for firearm licence holders.
A. Oh shit yeah, may as well throw in a colonoscopy too, just to be sure. Did it hurt much when the power drill slipped and let some daylight into your head?.
Q. Hey Dick, I just got my shooter's licence but I've been reading your column for a few months. I don't agree with any of the advice you give out, I'm starting to think you're not even real.
A. I'm well over 18 years old so I guess I practically know nothing these days. I have a sneaking suspicion I will seem pretty fucking real when I plant my size 11 GP's fair up your arse and send you home to momma with that "I just pumped the neighbour's dog" look on your face.
Q. Uncle Dick, I think I've developed a nasty flinch after my recent purchase of a .460 Weatherby varmint rifle. My mate reckons it's all in my head but what do you think is a dead certain cure for a flinch? I'm not interested in using any of the strap on devices I've had recommended to me.
A. Your mate is correct, it is all in your head and it starts when the scope begins to cut chunks out of your head...usually just above the right eye of a right handed shooter. Funny you should ask about a dead certain cure for a flinch, because the only bloke I've ever seen who never ever flinched had actually been dead for quite some time and it was rigor mortis that kept him at the bench for a few days. Try wearing a padded bra and pass it off as man boobs if anyone asks. Most casual observers wouldn't believe I flinch at all, the normal frequency of tremors, tics and involuntary muscle spasms has never let me feel embarrassed when I get belted after dropping the hammer on an empty chamber.
Q. Uncle Dick, I've become interested in Dingos and wild dogs after reading about the damage they inflict on local sheep properties. I went to a zoo when I was a kid once and I find it hard to believe the cute little Dingo pups I saw could really be as vicious as these newspaper reports make them out to be. Apart from shooting or trapping, surely a more humane and equitable solution to the wild dog problem could be found.
A. I suppose you could ask the dogs nicely not
to hurt the sheep, being a softcock you would no doubt try this
approach. Look, no sense beating about the bush. Wild dogs and Dingo
hybrids are a savage animal programmed to kill without mercy.
Prior to the introduction of the Dingo by Indonesian tourists, the Aborigines ranged all over
the mainland but the Dingo decimated their numbers to within an inch of
extinction and nowadays pure Aborigines are only found in a few isolated
pockets like Fraser Island, so please don't feed them if you are visiting. Just recently whilst deer stalking, I managed to capture an
Alpine Dingo pup. My troubles
only started after I executed his parents and got 'up close and personal'
with the pup. It took 164
stitches to repair me after tangling with this pup and dragging him clear
of the den. Admittedly, most of the damage was inflicted on my neck, ears,
and back after I ocky-strapped the pup to my daypack, but imagine what a full grown Dingo
would have done to me. Don't be fooled by the photo, he's a killer.
Moments after I took this photo he lunged at my crotch and I lost a bit of
Shoot straight you bastards!
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