6/9/15 Guest Blogger: Jamie – ”Endgame of 9th Grade and the Paintball Bazooka”

Well, my freshman year of high school is over.

I have 3 more to go, but I’m not thinking of that right now. From the punishment of PE and Swim in the first semester to presenting my PowerPoint about my dream of DJing in the second semester, I can conclude that my freshman year – 9th grade –  was a wild ride, up until that fateful week of finals.

I’m not going to go into details on each and every one, that would put you to sleep. This post is about the opening weeks of summer vacation.

I left school at about 9:20 in the morning. Finals start at 8, and I only had to take one. This was for English, and it was the grand-pappy of all of them. With 160 multiple choice and an unknown amount of essay questions, this monstrosity of a test made my 60 question Algebra final look like a piece of cake.

However, I slogged through the final and abandoned classroom. It was sad to say bye to Mr. L, but there might be a chance to have him in Junior Year for a course in British Literature. Mr. L doesn’t seem like a guy who would like British Literature, though. If there was a class about analyzing action movies I’m sure he would be all over that.

After a few days of “decompressing”, I ended Week 1 by trying something new with my friend, Nico.

Brace yourself, I went paintballing. Prepare Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries!

It was very fun, but terrifying at the same time. I had a blast. (Badum tsss)

At the time, I owned no paintballing gear. I had to purchase a mask and a special shirt and all that jazz. When it came to procuring a gun, or marker, I thought I had a sweet deal, though. Mom came into the house one day from the garage with a massive toolbox.

Inside of the box was a big pile of green and yellow paintballs. Almost all of them exploded due to almost 10 years of Illinois weather. About a centimeter of slime and scum settled throughout the box. However, it was a total ‘Diamond in the Rough’ moment, though. It might have as well been the Ark of the Covenant” to a paintballer.

Mom slowly lifted a slime coated Planet Eclipse paintball gun of unknown model. It was red and silver and black. Despite being coated in muck, it was sleek and shiny. Dad explained that my older brother Mike was and avid paintball player when he was around my age. Mike loved to play it, and invested money into his sport. This WMD was the best of his arsenal. It was then that I realized that I would do battle with a total hand-canon!

After a few minutes of cleaning, we took the paintball bazooka to numerous hobby shops (None of us knew how to work a paintball gun). This one place said that I would have to drop it off for a few nights so they could repair it. Apparently my brother modified the gun with electronic components in order to turn the gun into a death machine. (It helped with the rate of fire, etc. This may have worked back in 2003, but it’s 2015 now. It doesn’t work.)

Long story short, my Howitzer of a paintball marker wasn’t ready on time. I had my gear ready, but I rented a Tippman 98 from the front desk of the paintball field.

Of course, being a n00b I got completely nuked by my opponents. I have a few colorful bruises on my legs. I also got a big one on my Adam’s Apple.

However, all in all, my first time paintballing was incredibly fun. I’d definately do it again, and I’ll be unstoppable once I get my hand-cannon back.

Your broski, Jamie

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