Gun Control is Completely Useless.

B00Mer

B00Mer

Make Canada Great Again
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:lol:
 
CDNBear

CDNBear

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Sep 24, 2006
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bluebyrd35 said:
Simply a model, and anyone can be strong behind a gun. Most Republicans wouldn't recognize a strong man or woman. It takes guts to stand up for what is right and decent through diplomacy and law and without a GUN.
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Holy crap, can you be any more absurd?
 
B

bluebyrd35

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Aug 9, 2008
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CDNBear said:
No, I said cry, because you do. Learn to read.

I have always found that people who have to tell that, aren't.

At any rate, your whiny hypocrisy is fun to read, carry on.
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LOL.....believe what makes you comfortable and obviously finding some women are smarter than you makes you rather testy. My investment firm says I am rich, my doctor tells me I am extraordinarly healthy and being a farmer for most of my life, I am strong. (Tossing around 80 lb. bales and working with horses and cows does that)

As for not being able to read, geez, I could probably up my reading from two books a week to three or four, but I won.t, after all got to have time for pleasure. So, believe as you wish, I find ignorance finds it level and there is no possibility of changing it.
 
CDNBear

CDNBear

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Sep 24, 2006
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bluebyrd35 said:
LOL.....believe what makes you comfortable and obviously finding some women are smarter than you makes you rather testy.
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I'm quite comfortable with the fact that there is a multitude of women out there that are smarter than me, you aren't one of them.


My investment firm says I am rich, my doctor tells me I am extraordinarly healthy and being a farmer for most of my life, I am strong. (Tossing around 80 lb. bales and working with horses and cows does that)

As for not being able to read, geez, I could probably up my reading from two books a week to three or four, but I won.t, after all got to have time for pleasure. So, believe as you wish, I find ignorance finds it level and there is no possibility of changing it.
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Your peacocking betrays you.
 
B

bluebyrd35

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Aug 9, 2008
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CDNBear said:
I'm quite comfortable with the fact that there is a multitude of women out there that are smarter than me, you aren't one of them.


Your peacocking betrays you.
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"I'm quite comfortable with the fact that there is a multitude of women out there that are smarter than me. " You wish!!

Should I send you my bank statements & investment portfolios?? or a picture of my places of residence?? Or a reports from my physician. NAH, dream on. I know about me and what is more I know a hell of a lot about you. So continue on, just remember, stopping gun violence does not involve more guns!! Get over your fixation about me personally and come up with a decent idea about stopping gun violence!
!
 
CDNBear

CDNBear

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Sep 24, 2006
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bluebyrd35 said:
You wish!!
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Nope, it's been made abundantly clear.

Should I send you my bank statements & investment portfolios?? or a picture of my places of residence?? Or a reports from my physician. NAH, dream on. I know about me and what is more I know a hell of a lot about you. So continue on, just remember, stopping gun violence does not involve more guns!! Get over your fixation about me personally and come up with a decent idea about stopping gun violence!
!
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And that there is an excellent example.
 
J

JamesBondo

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Mar 3, 2012
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bluebyrd35 said:
" Get over your fixation about me personally and come up with a decent idea about stopping gun violence!
!
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There are smarter women than you that believe in protecting themselves with firearms. Do you have any decent idea about stopping the gun violence without disarming them?
 
B

bluebyrd35

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JamesBondo said:
There are smarter women than you that believe in protecting themselves with firearms. Do you have any decent idea about stopping the gun violence without disarming them?
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Going for a gun as the best way to protect oneself is an idea that belongs mostly to men. It is a fact that most women who die by a gun shot are killed by those closest to them. i.e. spouses, lovers, partners,boyfriends etc. Often those smarter women have a hard time explaining why they needed to shoot those in their sleep, who are supposed to be the protectors.

CDNBear said:
Nope, it's been made abundantly clear.

And that there is an excellent example.
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See.....it is still all about me. No better idea about stopping gun violence except through more guns. I bet you are one of those who feel educators, teachers and even some of the older students in a school should be allowed to carry guns, in a institution of learning. What is next?? Arming nurses & doctors in offices and hospitals, my goodness they could simply practice their healing powers after the shoot out........., that is if they were faster on the draw .
 
CDNBear

CDNBear

Custom Troll
Sep 24, 2006
43,839
207
63
Ontario
bluebyrd35 said:
See.....it is still all about me. No better idea about stopping gun violence except through more guns. I bet you are one of those who feel educators, teachers and even some of the older students in a school should be allowed to carry guns, in a institution of learning. What is next?? Arming nurses & doctors in offices and hospitals, my goodness they could simply practice their healing powers after the shoot out........., that is if they were faster on the draw .
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I love just sitting back and watching you embarrass yourself.
 
J

JamesBondo

House Member
Mar 3, 2012
4,158
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Meet three women that used guns in self-defense in their own homes
HeadlinePoliticsMay 19, 2014 1 1167
guns in self-defense
Image Credit: Bing public domain
guns in self-defense
Image Credit: Bing public domain
What women have to say about guns and gun control has been in the spotlight since the Sandy Hook shooting. Phony so-called grassroots anti-gun rights organizations funded by activist billionaires, and real grassroots organizations of moms for gun rights and safety – such as 1MMAGC – have weighed in on what actually makes us safer.

Here are three examples in which women used guns to protect themselves in the sanctity of their homes. In each of these incidents, the woman was home alone and faced a male perpetrator. In each incident, she came out on top because she had a gun.

Duluth, Ga. — An intruder who was shot and killed after a confrontation with a woman in her shower was likely stalking her for days and may have had other victims, police said. The 53-year-old woman, who is a school counselor, was alone. “The male was armed with a kitchen knife, (and) a struggle ensued between the two of them,” a police spokesman said.

The woman tried to fight the man off with a shower rod, and he forced her into her bedroom. She grabbed a .22-caliber handgun and shot the man nine times. Police said the man ran out a back door and collapsed in the yard. He later died at a local medical center. Police said the shooting appeared to be justified, and that she acted in self-defense. There are no plans to charge her.

Houston, Texas — A teenage girl who was home alone says she was prepared to shoot when someone tried breaking into her family home. At approximately 3:30 p.m., the perpetrator tried cracking the code to her electronic front door lock. From the inside, the 17-year-old girl heard the alarm and went straight for her dad’s Glock 19 handgun. She was trained by her dad to use it. Fortunately, the alarm scared the would-be intruder away. As word spread about the home invasion attempt, neighbors say they’re getting their guns ready too.

Glenville, Pa. — A man who kicked in the front door of a York County home found a woman waiting for him with her handgun at the ready, according to police. The 31-year-old woman was alone when she heard someone trying to force their way inside. She grabbed a handgun that she trains with on a regular basis, police said.

When the man eventually kicked in her front door and entered the home, the woman leveled the gun and told the intruder not to come any closer. He obeyed her order and was found on the front porch of a neighbor’s home when an officer arrived minutes later. Police said he may have been intoxicated.

Some anti-gun rights groups have attempted to scare women from having guns, wrongly stating that a gun is more likely to be used on them, or in a suicide. But as Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke, Jr. recently said, “firearms, in the hands of law-abiding citizens, saved people’s lives.” Research shows that the sheriff – and not the anti-gun nuts – is correct.

The CDC reports that there are approximately 20,000 suicides committed with a gun each year. However, the CDC, in a report prepared by the Institute of Medicine and the National Research Council, also states that guns are used for lawful defensive purposes at least a half million times each year:

defensive gun uses by victims are at least as common as offensive uses by criminals, with estimates of annual uses ranging from about 500,000 to more than three million per year.

These women’s stories are the real-life illustrations of exactly such defensive gun use. Clever signs and social media #hashtags don’t stop bad guys – a person holding a gun does. Smart women know they can defend themselves if they are the ones holding the gun, and that a woman who knows how to use her gun makes actual “#gunsense”.
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"These women’s stories are the real-life illustrations of exactly such defensive gun use."
 
J

JamesBondo

House Member
Mar 3, 2012
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here is an interesting read:

If We Can Save Just One, It’ll Be Worth It
If We Can Save Just One, It’ll Be Worth It

226 4 0
It was early one September morning, maybe 6:00 am, and I was walking my usual route to work. From door-to-door, it was less than a mile and a half and it was a great way to wake up and watch the sun rise. At 22 years old I was working as a prep-cook while I finished college and morning shifts were tough.

My then-boyfriend had gotten into guns after turning 21, so we had both purchased firearms and practiced before taking our tests for concealed carry permits. I rarely went anywhere without my gun after that, having taken the time to get my permit I wasn’t going to let it go to waste. He was having a great time with our new hobby and encouraged me, but the best thing I could afford at the time was a cheap Kel-tec, with a handy built-in belt clip, that had a tendency to jam after the first round had been fired. Neither of us were experienced enough to figure it out on our own and I quickly excelled at clearing stovepipe malfunctions, even though I didn’t know what they were at the time.

I was carrying that morning as I walked to work, slightly zoned out as I walked the final 100 yards up the sidewalk along the river. At the early hour, almost nobody was outside. It wasn’t the movement I noticed ahead of me, it was the stark lack of movement that made me look up. A portly Hispanic man, middle-aged, had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk ahead of me about 30 feet and was facing me. I hadn’t really seen where he came from, but there he was. I hadn’t realized I stopped as well until I was acutely aware that my feet felt like they weighed a million pounds. I didn’t know what he wanted, but the look on his face said that it wasn’t anything good. The initial exchange is fuzzy, but the gist was that he wanted me to come closer. I took an instinctive step backwards, wondering if I could outrun him, but scared to turn my back on him.

He pulled a knife from somewhere and told me I would be coming with him. No response from me; I felt frozen, my mind racing for an explanation – is this some kind of sick joke? He took a single small step forward. The knife, which looked big before, seemingly doubled in size and I suddenly remembered that I had my gun clipped to the waistband of my pants. After carrying it with me every day for the better part of two years, I was so used to the gun being part of me and my daily routine that I had almost forgotten it was there.

He took another step forward and I grabbed the gun, aimed it out in front of me, rested my finger on the trigger, and told him I would not be going anywhere with him, although what actually came out of my mouth was likely garbled and definitely included some profanity. I was scared to death, but it wasn’t because of him. I was scared that I would actually need my firearm and I would only be guaranteed the first shot because the second one wasn’t reliable. There’s no way I would have time to clear the malfunction before he got to me. I knew I would have to wait if he charged me until I knew I wouldn’t miss. I cursed myself silently for not spending a little more money on something better or making more time to understand how to fix it.

He stopped advancing and stood up straight long enough for me to notice that he’d peed his pants. I was too jittery to notice that I, too, had peed my pants. He turned and ran back down the sidewalk and down to the riverbank. I stood there for a while until I realized my gun was still out, then I slid it back into my waistband and forced myself to walk up the steps to work. I must have been quite the sight because my boss was immediately concerned. I told him I fell in the river, which I’m sure he didn’t believe, and that I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home. One of the other staff members drove me home and I unloaded the gun and put it away before spending the day trying to convince myself the entire episode never happened. Had I overreacted? What if someone saw me with my gun out and reported me?

I couldn’t call the authorities and tell them what happened. As I had crossed the bridge over the river that morning to work, I crossed into another state, one that was a “may” grant state instead of a “shall” grant state. That state had turned down my application for one of their state permits because I didn’t have a need for it in their eyes. Every day I worked, I committed a felony by crossing the state line with my firearm. It was a dirty little secret I was okay with until I had actually needed it and now was unable to tell anyone out of fear for my future. Would they throw me in jail? I told nobody – not my boyfriend, not my parents, not my friends – for more than a decade.

I’d like to say that’s where the story ends, but it’s not.

The real tragedy happened 6-8 weeks after my incident when a young woman my age was abducted, at knife point, from a crowded parking lot just before Thanksgiving. I had done such a good job of trying to forget what had happened to me that I didn’t make the connection until they caught him in December and showed his picture on TV. Then all the stuff I’d been fighting to make go away made my stomach turn. The man that tried, and failed, to kidnap me early one morning on my way to work succeeded in taking another young woman, who he subsequently held in a basement where he repeatedly raped her and cut her before putting a plastic bag over her head, slitting her throat, and throwing her naked body into a snow-covered ditch before the authorities could arrest him for her murder.

I found out during the course of the investigation and trial that the man had been released from prison earlier that year after serving time for stabbing and attempting to kidnap a woman. Rest assured, he is now on death row in a federal prison for what he did to the young lady he kidnapped after me. In an ironic twist of fate, he had also crossed the same state line during his crime, which made it a federal case and made him eligible for the death penalty. Apropos? I’d say so.

After telling my story in an anonymous, online blog response to anti-gun sentiments more than a decade after the incident, I felt intense relief. I told more people about it, felt more relief, and received encouragement. I got involved in taking firearm classes despite my preexisting target shooting interests and got personal instruction from a man who thought I was “a natural”. He encouraged me to take up competitive shooting and to become an instructor. I founded a local chapter of a national women’s shooting organization and am happy to be facilitating the training of more women so they can defend themselves if they should ever need to do so. As the saying goes, “If we can save just one, it’ll be worth it.” Anonymous
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It wasn’t the movement I noticed ahead of me, it was the stark lack of movement that made me look up. A portly Hispanic man, middle-aged, had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk ahead of me about 30 feet and was facing me. I hadn’t really seen where he came from, but there he was. I hadn’t realized I stopped as well until I was acutely aware that my feet felt like they weighed a million pounds. I didn’t know what he wanted, but the look on his face said that it wasn’t anything good. The initial exchange is fuzzy, but the gist was that he wanted me to come closer. I took an instinctive step backwards, wondering if I could outrun him, but scared to turn my back on him.

He pulled a knife from somewhere and told me I would be coming with him. No response from me; I felt frozen, my mind racing for an explanation – is this some kind of sick joke? He took a single small step forward. The knife, which looked big before, seemingly doubled in size and I suddenly remembered that I had my gun clipped to the waistband of my pants. After carrying it with me every day for the better part of two years, I was so used to the gun being part of me and my daily routine that I had almost forgotten it was there.

He took another step forward and I grabbed the gun, aimed it out in front of me, rested my finger on the trigger, and told him I would not be going anywhere with him, although what actually came out of my mouth was likely garbled and definitely included some profanity. I was scared to death, but it wasn’t because of him. I was scared that I would actually need my firearm and I would only be guaranteed the first shot because the second one wasn’t reliable. There’s no way I would have time to clear the malfunction before he got to me. I knew I would have to wait if he charged me until I knew I wouldn’t miss. I cursed myself silently for not spending a little more money on something better or making more time to understand how to fix it.

He stopped advancing and stood up straight long enough for me to notice that he’d peed his pants. I was too jittery to notice that I, too, had peed my pants. He turned and ran back down the sidewalk and down to the riverbank. I stood there for a while until I realized my gun was still out, then I slid it back into my waistband and forced myself to walk up the steps to work. I must have been quite the sight because my boss was immediately concerned. I told him I fell in the river, which I’m sure he didn’t believe, and that I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home. One of the other staff members drove me home and I unloaded the gun and put it away before spending the day trying to convince myself the entire episode never happened. Had I overreacted? What if someone saw me with my gun out and reported me?

I couldn’t call the authorities and tell them what happened. As I had crossed the bridge over the river that morning to work, I crossed into another state, one that was a “may” grant state instead of a “shall” grant state. That state had turned down my application for one of their state permits because I didn’t have a need for it in their eyes. Every day I worked, I committed a felony by crossing the state line with my firearm. It was a dirty little secret I was okay with until I had actually needed it and now was unable to tell anyone out of fear for my future. Would they throw me in jail? I told nobody – not my boyfriend, not my parents, not my friends – for more than a decade.

I’d like to say that’s where the story ends, but it’s not.

The real tragedy happened 6-8 weeks after my incident when a young woman my age was abducted, at knife point, from a crowded parking lot just before Thanksgiving. I had done such a good job of trying to forget what had happened to me that I didn’t make the connection until they caught him in December and showed his picture on TV. Then all the stuff I’d been fighting to make go away made my stomach turn. The man that tried, and failed, to kidnap me early one morning on my way to work succeeded in taking another young woman, who he subsequently held in a basement where he repeatedly raped her and cut her before putting a plastic bag over her head, slitting her throat, and throwing her naked body into a snow-covered ditch before the authorities could arrest him for her murder.

I found out during the course of the investigation and trial that the man had been released from prison earlier that year after serving time for stabbing and attempting to kidnap a woman. Rest assured, he is now on death row in a federal prison for what he did to the young lady he kidnapped after me. In an ironic twist of fate, he had also crossed the same state line during his crime, which made it a federal case and made him eligible for the death penalty. Apropos? I’d say so.

After telling my story in an anonymous, online blog response to anti-gun sentiments more than a decade after the incident, I felt intense relief. I told more people about it, felt more relief, and received encouragement. I got involved in taking firearm classes despite my preexisting target shooting interests and got personal instruction from a man who thought I was “a natural”. He encouraged me to take up competitive shooting and to become an instructor. I founded a local chapter of a national women’s shooting organization and am happy to be facilitating the training of more women so they can defend themselves if they should ever need to do so. As the saying goes, “If we can save just one, it’ll be worth it.” Anonymous

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I have to admit that the 'quote has been trimmed' feature is damn annoying
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