The love of my life

I own an emotional support assault rifle. This is not to be confused with a service assault rifle. There is a huge difference here. Let me elaborate.

A service assault rifle in the hands of a civilian is generally used for mass murder in public venues or by terrorists looking to hook up with 72 virgins in paradise. This is ok as long as the weapon is not concealed.

An emotional support assault weapon on the other hand requires that the bearer be a registered member of both the NRA and ASPCA and be of sound mind and body, or at least body. Or at least be in control of their body and not exhibit the behavior of a raving lunatic. Note the inclusion of the word raving here. This is an important qualifier. Not that I personally have anything against raves. Dancing is great fun.

Now in my particular case, I can't live without mine. Yes, I'm the proud owner of a genuine Russian made, Kalashnikov assault rifle. If I'm more than 3 feet away from it, I suffer extreme anxiety attacks and begin to feel paralyzing fear and can no longer function as a normal human being.

I take it to bed with me. I like to hold it very near. I'm not ashamed to admit that I caress it. I'll stroke its smooth, cool metal surfaces. I can gaze into her sights for hours without noticing the passage of time. The banana clip magazine, loaded with 50 rounds of full metal jacket ammo, fills me with a sense of warmth and security. Her latent fire and fury, and powerful strength, takes my breath away. On occasion, the intoxicating, subtle aroma of her well lubricated parts and beautiful sleek profile overtake me to the point where I can no longer contain my excitement. I'll grip her passionately, wrap my entire body around her, flick my tongue against her barrel, squeeze her, press myself upon her trigger guard and begin to dip my rising manhood into the tight recess of her...

No, excuse me, that's too much information. But suffice it to say that I always keep the safety on. I'm not that crazy.

I used to sleep with a .357 Magnum under my pillow but I love my assault rifle, much, much more. Thank god for the second amendment. Believe me, me and my AK47, we sleep very well together.