Cemetery got pulled over on the way back from a match. In a normal state, this would go something like “Why yes, Officer, I do have firearms in the vehicle. They are locked security in the back, except for the loaded Glock in the glove box.” A few minutes later, you’d probably be on your way. But Cemetery did the right thing for Jersey, which is to shut up. I find his telling of the story hilarious, however:
But when I met up with my friend, I was still Cowboy’d Up cause she likes the clothes, I realized I stunk of sulfur, from shooting black magic. Makes me wonder if that’s what the Officer was smelling.
I’ll have to remember next I get pulled over after shooting black magic, that if I’m asked what that funky smell is, I’ll just say that I’ve been eating a bunch of chili. I think that will end the nosey business might quick.
Sounds like the right tactic to me.
I couldn’t chew gum in school without getting caught. I wouldn’t have enough nerve to drive through NJ with a loaded Glock in the car.
How can you guys stand living where you do? I go to visit relatives in S. Jersey after 30 years in the west (15 in Montana), and I feel like I’m in some dystopian alternate reality. My parents moved out of there when I was 10. I’m forever in their debt.
Climate is OK, drivers aren’t bad (compared to DC or Philly, anyway). Convenient to NYC without having to live *there*. The wide selection of food types is pretty nice, too.
It isn’t like NJ is the pits for gun owners either. There’s no approved handgun register, you don’t *have* to have papers to possess (though it’s a good idea) and if I happen to walk out of the range with a .22 case stuck to my shoe I’m not committing a felony.