Ammo Review: Part 4

Q: Can ammoforsale.com set you up better than a pimp with a drug dealer on speed dial?

A: Hell yeah!

When I made the analogy above, Mrs. Curmudgeon gave me a look just like this. (I"m tellin ya' it's hard to write humor!)

When I made the analogy above, Mrs. Curmudgeon gave me a look just like this. (I”m tellin ya’ it’s hard to write humor!)

If you’ve been reading the rest of my little story you know [sumdood] from ammoforsale.com had offered me, an irreverent blogger, free ammunition just for writing a review. He offered it at no cost and actually said…

“What do you need?”

Was he kidding? That’s like an open liquor cabinet and a winning lottery ticket delivered by a naked supermodel riding a dragon who shits gold. What I needed was about six truckloads of ammunition in every caliber known to man. Enough so I can stack the boxes and live inside a house built entirely out of brass and lead. What do I need? Was he kidding?

“I want ALL the ammunition! Bwa ha ha ha ha…” It was on the tip of my tongue! Trying desperately not to be rude, I moderated my wishes. “Oh, a couple boxes. Something for hunting, something for zombies. You know.”

“That’s great!” I could feel just plain niceness through the phone. Either that or my codeine cough syrup was finally working. (I had a prescription so chill out.) “What calibers? I can offer just about anything but .22.” He added.

I started running through my mental inventory of ammunition stocks. Honestly I’m not very organized about this. A lot of serious shooters have it all down pat. They might even write stuff down. Not me. I simply have a shitload of more or less whatever I need and I keep it stacked in a semi-random pile. (Actually piles.) I have less of the stuff I’ve recently sent flying downrange and more of the stuff I’ve found cheap. It’s an organic system that works for me.

I pondered for a moment and decided to ask for something obscure.

“Here’s your first test; 7.62 x 54R.”

“Sure. I’ll send a box.” He answered quickly.

“Not that misurp stuff? I shoot the shit too but I’ve got plenty of that. Crap that’s Berdan primed and made with powder that’s equal parts corrosives and Communist’s tears. No, I want some good stuff with reloadable brass.” I croaked.

“Sure, it’s good stuff. If you run it through your chronograph you’ll find…”

“I test Mosin-Nagants the old fashioned way.” I interrupted.

“Um…”

“I’ve got a nice Finn. I’ll head over to Helsinki and see if that bitch Putin can handle a real sniper.”

“Er…” The poor guy didn’t know what to say to that.

“I’m just joking. Sheesh.” I cackled. “You’ve read my blog right?”

“Oh yes.” He seemed relieved.

“How about some wheelgun food? Got any plain old .38 Special?”

“Yep!”

Wow. This was like Christmas and a tax rebate and all at once. I just couldn’t get over it. I was speechless.

“What about shotgun ammo?” He prompted.

“Uh… yeah!” I was having trouble focusing. Try it sometime, just walk up to a stranger and hand him several boxes of ammunition. If his brain immediately melts you’ve found a gun nut. Plus… codeine.

“How about bird hunting. Twelve gauge?” He had no idea I was undergoing a complete catharsis on the other end of the line.

I pulled myself together. “I prefer 20 gauge. For raccoons.”

“Raccoons?” He wasn’t expecting this.

“Yeah, 12 gauge is cool but I think 20 has a little more panache right? Plus Raccoons mess with my chickens. The little bastards are just terrorists with fur.”

“Panache?” This slowed him down.

“OK fine, I’ll go after some birds. If I don’t get one I’m writing that on my review.”

“20 gauge game loads.” He agreed.

“You have any .410?” I asked, knowing full well I’d pushed my luck further than humanly possible.

“Hmmm… More panache eh?” He clicked on a computer. “Sorry. We’re sold out of .410. I’ll throw in a second box of 20 gauge OK?”

“Yeah, that’ll do fine.” I chuckled.

“Now I want you to do an honest review OK? You don’t need to be biased.” He added.

“No worries. I’ll write something unexpected.”

He paused.

Uh oh, was the jig up? Maybe he had me confused with someone that regularly uses a benchrest and noodles around with a micrometer. If so, I was hosed. “I mean I’ll review it exactly as I see it.”

“Good!” I could hear the smile.

I felt a moral imperative to tell the guy that I was a wiseass. No use misrepresenting my level of seriousness. “One more thing. I’m not really into chronographs and I’m only modestly into marksmanship. There are far more qualified reviewers than me. Also reviews like that, which are very useful in their own way, simply bore the hell out of me. I’m just going to shoot a bird and tell everyone if it tastes good.”

“Whatever you want.” He seemed satisfied.

Well OK then. From my point of view that was a green light to have fun! I gave an address and hung up. Then, because I was still sick as a dog, I staggered back to the couch and slept for a week.

Mrs. Curmudgeon wondered if it was a scam. I smiled. I love paranoid women! I hadn’t given out a credit card number. I was satisfied.


Finally! Some actual relevant content:

Delivery was perfect. The box arrived right when he said it would. I live in the middle of nowhere. If you lived where I did, you too would be impressed and pleased with any delivery that arrives at the specified time. Deliveries here are usually a day or two later than in civilized regions and nobody on the internet is ever right about the arrival date. This was a first! I practically hugged the FedEx guy.

Have I mentioned this was free? Wait. Stop. Just quit reading and think about this. Free. I totally owe those guys. Ammoforsale.com sent me free ammunition and it’s proof that the world is a wonderful place.

More in my next post.

A.C.

P.S. Mrs. Curmudgeon points out that a positive review for a company doesn’t usually start by comparing them with pimps and drug dealers. I concur. So I’ll phrase it in a different way:

Q: Does ammoforsale.com have customer service, adequate stock, and fast delivery in a way that’s exactly opposite of those dimwitted yahoos at the Department of Motor Vehicles?

A: Hell yeah!

DMV versus FedEx

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About Adaptive Curmudgeon

I will neither confirm nor deny that I actually exist.
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