Official US Edgun dealer opened internet store
We as official Edgun products dealer in the States are pleased to announce that we started testing the internet store at official Edgun site http://edgun.com/en/cart
We can take credit cards over the phone as well.
Also we would like to welcome a new distributor – TalonTunes, all shipments are made through us.
We just received another shipment of Matador R3Ms in both .22 and .25 calibers.
For any questions: us@edgun.com or 228-5242
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You remind me of an old tale of some philosophical value to you…permit me please:
A young Cherokee boy approached one of the tribal elders, and tugged on his sleeve.
The old man slowly turned, frowned down at the boy and said “What is it you need?”
The boy asked “When we are born, we are given a name by our mothers, and it remains our name for life. Why can we not change it when we reach manhood?”
The village elder pondered on this, his dark face lined from the hard prairie life of the 1800’s. He slowly sat down on a rock and looked far away,
“Look around” he said to the boy “See the lake, the forest, the birds and animals, know in your heart you are one of them!” The boy looked puzzled.
The old man continued…“When a Cherokee woman reaches her time to give birth, she must go into the woods, lie on the grass, and bring you into the world alone!
“When she has finished the birth, you become a member of our tribe, a Cherokee, a Human Being, and you are bound by the traditions of our nation!”
The young Cherokee boy sat down, and listened intently…
The old man continued…“Our tradition, from beyond time, demands that a Cherokee woman must name her child after the first living animals she sees when the birth is finished.”
The elder pointed to a woman near a pole lodge and said…“That woman brought a male child into our tribe. After her struggle of birth, she looked around and the first living thing she saw was a large bear, eating berries from a bush. The bear was very hungry, so she named her male child ‘Hungry Bear’ and he grew strong, and brave, and hunted many bears in his life which provided meat for the tribe to eat, and warm fur for us in the Winter! His name was his destiny! He could not change it because it told the tribe who he was, what he would do!”
The old man turned the other direction and pointed to a woman gathering wood for the fire. “There!” He said…”That woman gave birth to a boy child and she looked around and saw nothing, but when she looked up she saw an owl in a tree. The owl said nothing, but looked at the boy for a long time, as if he understood the wonderful thing that had just taken place! So she named the boy ‘Wise Owl’. He grew to be a quiet man, but a very wise man, and many tribe members sought his wisdom with their problems. He received his name from the owl who knew the boy’s destiny. Are we not one with the animals we live with? Do we not eat their flesh, wear their hides, sew their skins with needles made from their bones?”
The young boy stared at the old man.
Looking out at the lake, the old man said…“We are part of a living circle with nature. This is our tradition, our belief. The animals know us even before we are born. Did your mother not eat their flesh, and keep herself warm with their skins and furs, while you grew within her body?”
The boy nodded his head in agreement.
The old man stood up. Then he stared hard at the Cherokee youth and put his hand firmly on the boy’s shoulder. He said…“You cannot change your name because it is you, it tells the tribe who you are, what to expect from you, it cannot be changed! Your mother named you after the first living things she saw, and that name is your destiny forever!”
The boy looked down, disappointed.
The old man quickly looked around, then said….“Now…get the hell away from me, Two-Dogs-Fucking, and stay away!”
Kind Regards,
Uncle Hoot:
Oh my god, I can not stand laughing Uncle HOOT :rofl: :rofl: :rofl:
My dear Street-Wide,
You remind me of an old tale of some philosophical value to you…permit me please:
A young Cherokee boy approached one of the tribal elders, and tugged on his sleeve.
The old man slowly turned, frowned down at the boy and said “What is it you need?”
The boy asked “When we are born, we are given a name by our mothers, and it remains our name for life. Why can we not change it when we reach manhood?”
The village elder pondered on this, his dark face lined from the hard prairie life of the 1800’s. He slowly sat down on a rock and looked far away,
“Look around” he said to the boy “See the lake, the forest, the birds and animals, know in your heart you are one of them!” The boy looked puzzled.
The old man continued…“When a Cherokee woman reaches her time to give birth, she must go into the woods, lie on the grass, and bring you into the world alone!
“When she has finished the birth, you become a member of our tribe, a Cherokee, a Human Being, and you are bound by the traditions of our nation!”
The young Cherokee boy sat down, and listened intently…
The old man continued…“Our tradition, from beyond time, demands that a Cherokee woman must name her child after the first living animals she sees when the birth is finished.”
The elder pointed to a woman near a pole lodge and said…“That woman brought a male child into our tribe. After her struggle of birth, she looked around and the first living thing she saw was a large bear, eating berries from a bush. The bear was very hungry, so she named her male child ‘Hungry Bear’ and he grew strong, and brave, and hunted many bears in his life which provided meat for the tribe to eat, and warm fur for us in the Winter! His name was his destiny! He could not change it because it told the tribe who he was, what he would do!”
The old man turned the other direction and pointed to a woman gathering wood for the fire. “There!” He said…”That woman gave birth to a boy child and she looked around and saw nothing, but when she looked up she saw an owl in a tree. The owl said nothing, but looked at the boy for a long time, as if he understood the wonderful thing that had just taken place! So she named the boy ‘Wise Owl’. He grew to be a quiet man, but a very wise man, and many tribe members sought his wisdom with their problems. He received his name from the owl who knew the boy’s destiny. Are we not one with the animals we live with? Do we not eat their flesh, wear their hides, sew their skins with needles made from their bones?”
The young boy stared at the old man.
Looking out at the lake, the old man said…“We are part of a living circle with nature. This is our tradition, our belief. The animals know us even before we are born. Did your mother not eat their flesh, and keep herself warm with their skins and furs, while you grew within her body?”
The boy nodded his head in agreement.
The old man stood up. Then he stared hard at the Cherokee youth and put his hand firmly on the boy’s shoulder. He said…“You cannot change your name because it is you, it tells the tribe who you are, what to expect from you, it cannot be changed! Your mother named you after the first living things she saw, and that name is your destiny forever!”
The boy looked down, disappointed.
The old man quickly looked around, then said….“Now…get the hell away from me, Two-Dogs-Fucking, and stay away!”
Kind Regards,
Uncle Hoot:
Oh no! Here we go! 😯
Toad Suck is an unincorporated community in Perry County, Arkansas, United States. It is the location of (or is the nearest community to) Bigelow Rosenwald School, which is located at the junction of Arkansas Highway 60 and Bethel AME Road and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.[2]
The origin of the name Toad Suck is disputed. Some hold it received the name when idle rivermen would congregate at the local tavern where they would “suck on the bottle ’til they swell up like toads”, while others believe it is a corruption of a French phrase meaning “a narrow channel in the river.”[3][4] Toad Suck has frequently been noted on lists of unusual place names.
So there is a place called Toad Suck. That was the hard part to believe. You living there and shooting at your neighbors chickens. Not so hard to believe.
Street-Wide…what makes you think I haven’t achieved these things?
If you knew who I really am, you would be quite surprised.
Or, do you really think I live in Toad Suck, Arkansas ,and shoot my neighbor’s chickens?
Dream on, Galdorfians…dream on!
Hoot:
I bow to your superior understanding of the situation at hand.
Ed is likely hard at labor at a commercial rat farm, deep in the Gulogs of Siberia. Sentenced to 50 years of hard labor by the People’s Soviet Socialist Republik, condemned to administer enemas to constipated, pregnant, rat mothers, who give birth to the future “Parts are parts” meat produced for Russian McDonald-skis Restaurants, to give the Russian people the illusion they are living in a free and productive society.
Meanwhile, Putin lives in a fantasy world believing that he will one day be the leader of a Russian dominated
One World Order in which his will becomes universal law!
Most Russians are just like us…all they want is peace, a safe place to raise their children, a reasonably comfortable life, and no rat meat in their hamburgers-skis!!!
All I wanted was a .25 caliber, 40 fpe, Leyla!!!
I’ll be 72 this year, not much time left to play, my wife is leaving me, my kids are grown up ,and too busy with their own problems to check on me, I’m slowly going blind, and my dog’s been diagnosed with worms!
My tombstone will read…”Every time this Mutt bent over to tie his shoes, his friends lined up behind hin to fuck him in the ass! Many say it was better than he deserved. Six diseased inches rammed up his dump chute, without so much as a dab of KY jelly? Some commented that seemed overly harsh!”
There you have it, pure and simple! My life in a nutshell.
I’ll bet Tony will keep my pre-payment of full price for the Leyla, and laugh all the way to the bank!
County officials have already warned me, if I want a decent grave site, next to the city dump, I have to pre-dig a 3 X 6 X 6 foot hole, cover it with a tarp, so it won’t backfill before I die, and give them three days notice before I die, so they can schedule a backhoe to dump the casket in, and re-fill the hole!
Local Red Cross said they’d provide a headstone, but the free ones are only 6″ X 12″ and are made of recycled pine from used pallets! They burn the message in with one of those “Etch-A-Sketch” wood burner things!
Hoot:
After reading this last post, I have to ask. Does your brain actually think like you write? Because if it does and you applied your gift to theater, novels, presidential speeches or as a political leader you would have been incredibly successful. You would have made a bazillion dollars and would be known world wide as a a great thinker and leader.
Guess we are just blesses on this forum that you did not persue those other options. Thank you for the many great posts. They are always a pleasure and entertaining to read.
I just want to be alive when my Leyla arrives!
I wonder if Tony has any updates on production progress?
Hoot all the cool kids are getting 25 R3s and .20 cal Leylas. I’m just saying
Perhaps I should change my order to the .25 caliber R3, as they seem to be in stock, and the Leyla may not arrive until forever.
Alas….wisdom vomits forth from the lips of the ignorant, the misinformed, the dull of wit, glassy-eyed mouth- breathers, inbred miscreants, bastard offspring resultant from drunken forays from inter-species sexual liaisons, and those afflicted with incredibly dull wits!!!
I bow to your superior understanding of the situation at hand.
Ed is likely hard at labor at a commercial rat farm, deep in the Gulogs of Siberia. Sentenced to 50 years of hard labor by the People’s Soviet Socialist Republik, condemned to administer enemas to constipated, pregnant, rat mothers, who give birth to the future “Parts are parts” meat produced for Russian McDonald-skis Restaurants, to give the Russian people the illusion they are living in a free and productive society.
Meanwhile, Putin lives in a fantasy world believing that he will one day be the leader of a Russian dominated
One World Order in which his will becomes universal law!
Most Russians are just like us…all they want is peace, a safe place to raise their children, a reasonably comfortable life, and no rat meat in their hamburgers-skis!!!
All I wanted was a .25 caliber, 40 fpe, Leyla!!!
I’ll be 72 this year, not much time left to play, my wife is leaving me, my kids are grown up ,and too busy with their own problems to check on me, I’m slowly going blind, and my dog’s been diagnosed with worms!
My tombstone will read…”Every time this Mutt bent over to tie his shoes, his friends lined up behind hin to fuck him in the ass! Many say it was better than he deserved. Six diseased inches rammed up his dump chute, without so much as a dab of KY jelly? Some commented that seemed overly harsh!”
There you have it, pure and simple! My life in a nutshell.
I’ll bet Tony will keep my pre-payment of full price for the Leyla, and laugh all the way to the bank!
County officials have already warned me, if I want a decent grave site, next to the city dump, I have to pre-dig a 3 X 6 X 6 foot hole, cover it with a tarp, so it won’t backfill before I die, and give them three days notice before I die, so they can schedule a backhoe to dump the casket in, and re-fill the hole!
Local Red Cross said they’d provide a headstone, but the free ones are only 6″ X 12″ and are made of recycled pine from used pallets! They burn the message in with one of those “Etch-A-Sketch” wood burner things!
Hoot:
I think Hoot’s head stone will read:
Got tired of waiting I moved on!
Sorry Hoot, we all look forward to you getting your girl, and we will all toast in celebration with you when you get her.
Cheers
I have a feeling those will be the words on your grave stone Hoot, sorry man. lol
Any word on the Leyla production and delivery date?
great.Thanks. Just emailed here us@edgun.com for 6 megs.
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If I may return to the subject
.22/.25 Standard/Long Matadors R3M are in stock ready for immediate shipping.