Yesterday I placed my shotgun on the front porch, gave it six shells, and noticing it had no legs, placed it in a wheelchair to help it get around. While I was gone, the mailman delivered my mail, the boy across the street picked up my yard, a girl walked her dog down the street, and quite a few cars stopped at the stop sign near my house. After 10 hours, I checked on the shotgun. It had not rolled outside and it had not killed anyone in spite of many opportunities that had been presented. Can you imagine how surprised I was, with all the hype about how dangerous guns are and how they kill people? Either the killing is by people misusing guns or I’m in possession of the laziest gun in the world. So now I’m off to check on my spoons, because I hear they make people fat.