For a start, any activity that I have to leave the bedroom for on a Sunday, is generally one that I'll avoid. Having to get up at 7:30 on a Sunday is just plain wrong.
But I'm glad I did.
The Paintball matches went something like this
1) We wiped out the entire opposition, so all I had to do was walk down the course, pick up the flag and walk back. Very Satifying.
2) Matt, Dave & Myself got ambushed, pinned down, and shot to shit.
3) A remarkably lucky shot hit me in the shoulder in under 20 seconds.
4) Snipered most of the fuckers, then stormed a house, didn't get shot, but also didn't kill enough of them to win.
Lunch - The single worst burger i've ever eaten.
5) Simon & Myself stormed into a small room in the Aztec temple and blew the fuck out of everyone, whilst at the same time, getting shot to shit ourselves.
6) Made a plan, five of us would storm the town, whilst the remaining eight would leg it down the canyon and circle around the enemy. As Me & Simon ran down the canyon we became instantly aware that we were the only people doing so, ran into a hail of gunfire Butch & Sundance stylee.
7) Crawled through the mud for 20 meters, set up a decent sniper point and took a few people out, however once the other team realised where I was I got pinned down and had the shit shot out of me by four of the fuckers.
Official games over, we lost 16 - 4, humilliated, I threw up my burger, felt much better after that.
Final Game: Trenches, an eighty a-side battle royal, paintballs flying everwhere, smoke grenades fucking up vision. I made it 75% across the course before running out of bullets halfway through a final charge, and took 15 in the chest. That fucking hurt, but was not the most painful injury of the day, no that was still to come. As I was limping out of the action to the deadzone, so fucker took a pot shot at me which missed the bottom of my mask, and hit me right in the throat. Fuck me, that hurt.
Result, I'm bruised, can barely walk and sixty quid lighter, but I'm fucking glad I went, I needed to release some agression in a nice safe way.
In a side note, talk about a fucked up night, sitting sipping my pint in the La Reserve Bar, when someone walks in asking if anyone owns a rover, Andy (Matt's Brother) does; it had just exploded, and was currently on fire, welding itself to the car park. Pretty un-nerving fucking evening.
But I'm glad I did.
The Paintball matches went something like this
1) We wiped out the entire opposition, so all I had to do was walk down the course, pick up the flag and walk back. Very Satifying.
2) Matt, Dave & Myself got ambushed, pinned down, and shot to shit.
3) A remarkably lucky shot hit me in the shoulder in under 20 seconds.
4) Snipered most of the fuckers, then stormed a house, didn't get shot, but also didn't kill enough of them to win.
Lunch - The single worst burger i've ever eaten.
5) Simon & Myself stormed into a small room in the Aztec temple and blew the fuck out of everyone, whilst at the same time, getting shot to shit ourselves.
6) Made a plan, five of us would storm the town, whilst the remaining eight would leg it down the canyon and circle around the enemy. As Me & Simon ran down the canyon we became instantly aware that we were the only people doing so, ran into a hail of gunfire Butch & Sundance stylee.
7) Crawled through the mud for 20 meters, set up a decent sniper point and took a few people out, however once the other team realised where I was I got pinned down and had the shit shot out of me by four of the fuckers.
Official games over, we lost 16 - 4, humilliated, I threw up my burger, felt much better after that.
Final Game: Trenches, an eighty a-side battle royal, paintballs flying everwhere, smoke grenades fucking up vision. I made it 75% across the course before running out of bullets halfway through a final charge, and took 15 in the chest. That fucking hurt, but was not the most painful injury of the day, no that was still to come. As I was limping out of the action to the deadzone, so fucker took a pot shot at me which missed the bottom of my mask, and hit me right in the throat. Fuck me, that hurt.
Result, I'm bruised, can barely walk and sixty quid lighter, but I'm fucking glad I went, I needed to release some agression in a nice safe way.
In a side note, talk about a fucked up night, sitting sipping my pint in the La Reserve Bar, when someone walks in asking if anyone owns a rover, Andy (Matt's Brother) does; it had just exploded, and was currently on fire, welding itself to the car park. Pretty un-nerving fucking evening.
hellomrworld:
never played paintball but looks like LOTS of fun
kitts:
update update update!