clevermanka (
clevermanka) wrote2009-09-18 09:10 am
Entry tags:
Axe
A long time ago, when I lived by myself in the student ghetto, I used to have an axe.

It wasn't that axe, but I don't have any photos of my axe, and that's the most similar photo I can find.
My axe was huge, probably three feet long including the head, and weighed between eight and ten pounds. The handle was dark brown and the head was slightly rusted from age. For years, it sat propped next to the side of my bed, where I could reach it if I ever heard someone breaking into my place (the ground floor apartment of a house).
Me being me, and never having a single day's training in any sort of self-defense ever, I knew a knife would be a useless defense. My eyes being my eyes, I knew aiming a gun at someone when I had my contacts out would be less than useless. But an axe, now. I figured anyone who didn't run from me (me being me, after all) if I was charging at them with an axe...well, they weren't going to back down from much of anything and I was probably fucked anyway.
So an axe it was.
I had that axe for years and thankfully never had an occasion to use it for real. I'm sad to say I have no idea what happened to the thing, or when it disappeared. I like to think it wound up next to another single-girl's bed and she sleeps soundly while it sits next to her alarm clock.
It was a damn fine axe.

It wasn't that axe, but I don't have any photos of my axe, and that's the most similar photo I can find.
My axe was huge, probably three feet long including the head, and weighed between eight and ten pounds. The handle was dark brown and the head was slightly rusted from age. For years, it sat propped next to the side of my bed, where I could reach it if I ever heard someone breaking into my place (the ground floor apartment of a house).
Me being me, and never having a single day's training in any sort of self-defense ever, I knew a knife would be a useless defense. My eyes being my eyes, I knew aiming a gun at someone when I had my contacts out would be less than useless. But an axe, now. I figured anyone who didn't run from me (me being me, after all) if I was charging at them with an axe...well, they weren't going to back down from much of anything and I was probably fucked anyway.
So an axe it was.
I had that axe for years and thankfully never had an occasion to use it for real. I'm sad to say I have no idea what happened to the thing, or when it disappeared. I like to think it wound up next to another single-girl's bed and she sleeps soundly while it sits next to her alarm clock.
It was a damn fine axe.

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I wish I had used an axe though. If anything, the conversation around why I had an axe by my bed would have been way more interesting.
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My friend, being an enterprising sort, drove around the neighborhood the next day to see if the truck was still around.
It was.
He took the sword to it.
Apparently the would-be burgler was in the living room screaming that he would call the cops.
My friend told him, "Sure, go ahead," and continued to hack away at the truck.
The cops never showed up.
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That's awesome.
y
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You might laugh to hear we have an axe by the bed, too. It's smaller than yours was. Eric wants it there in case of fire, to be able to smash out the windows. hehe.
y
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So depending on exactly how you use a firearm, it might be that a lack of contacts wouldn't actually be a problem.
8-)
Adrian
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Two out of three ain't bad!
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I wonder if I lived under power lines for way to long. ;)
Then I suppose it would be in poor taste to tell you, "More power to you," so I won't say that. 8-)
Adrian
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