What's with these 7.62mm jobbies the mighty .303 was good enough for some of us.(plus a Sterling of course).Holy shmoly, getting flashbacks to being physically assaulted for those toecaps not being mirrored enough and/or the rest of the leather not being smoothed out enough by red hot spoonsthat’ll be why I’m a 7.62mm man albeit in .308 flavour these days
Ps great thread, much fun![]()
You can pull the bun through the back, just like my .243 pony tail.I dont think that pic is a Creedmoor owner...no way we would mess up our hair with a baseball cap![]()
The problem I have at the moment is wearing a beanie ... its like velcro on the stubble around my bald bitsYou can pull the bun through the back, just like my .243 pony tail.
I know it's awful, I used to have that problem with my moustache and the last wife.The problem I have at the moment is wearing a beanie ... its like velcro on the stubble around my bald bits![]()
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Creed shooter will always go for the back doorYou can pull the bun through the back, just like my .243 pony tail.
at least creedmoor users know which door they are at !Creed shooter will always go for the back door
It's a good job I didn't suggest accessorising their slippers with a pipe or it'd have really kicked off .Best thread on here for a while
at least creedmoor users know which door they are at !
270 users are not sure where they are who they are or if they've **** their pants most of the time!

A fine Farmer from North Wales appeared,
he was famed for a most fantastic beard,
not much did he crave as he returned to his cave,
but no TV and the gloom made him bark at the moon.
One night as he peed he thought "should I get a Creed?" as at least that allows me to sit down![]()
A stalker from somewhere in Powys
regaled us with stories of prowess,
but when his Creedmoor
put a deer on the floor
the carcass was always a mess.
Glad you pulled it back to something that was a little less offensive then the other Tim (and a lot more creative)That cave is the home of a man
with a beard and an all-over tan.
There's trophies galore
and skins on the floor,
and a head boiling out in a pan.
But of stalking he hasn't a clue!
Just pretends that he knows what to do!
.270 in hand
he strides through the land,
in search of an elk or a gnu.