Hi everyone.
My name is Glen Filthie and I am a brass-O-holic. I have hit rock bottom.
Yesterday on the range I humiliated myself as I picked through the garbage cans on the range for useable 223 brass. The other shooters gave me uncertain looks as I chuckled in maniacal glee with every case I found. I didn't shoot much because I was too busy culling brass.
It's not like I haven't tried to stop either. When I went over to the handgun range there was a pile of .45acp strewn about. I have a 5 gallon pail filled with it at home and I told myself I would leave it for the next down-and-out chit picker to come along. I got off 40 rounds, picked up my own brass...and then scampered over and picked up all the other 45 brass too. I couldn't help myself.
I have pails of brass in my basement. Spent primers litter the floor and my power bills from my brass tumbler are huge. The utilities company is threatening to send the goons around to beat me up if I don't stop consuming more power than the rest of the town put together. I have fought pitched battles with magpies over the shiny, shiny beautiful brass....
Is there an emotional support group for guys like me? Maybe a home where we can be treated with drugs and behaviourally modified? I trust my fellow foolish firearm forum friends can be counted upon to be sympathetic to my plight and not make rude jokes at my expense...?
My name is Glen Filthie and I am a brass-O-holic. I have hit rock bottom.
Yesterday on the range I humiliated myself as I picked through the garbage cans on the range for useable 223 brass. The other shooters gave me uncertain looks as I chuckled in maniacal glee with every case I found. I didn't shoot much because I was too busy culling brass.
It's not like I haven't tried to stop either. When I went over to the handgun range there was a pile of .45acp strewn about. I have a 5 gallon pail filled with it at home and I told myself I would leave it for the next down-and-out chit picker to come along. I got off 40 rounds, picked up my own brass...and then scampered over and picked up all the other 45 brass too. I couldn't help myself.
I have pails of brass in my basement. Spent primers litter the floor and my power bills from my brass tumbler are huge. The utilities company is threatening to send the goons around to beat me up if I don't stop consuming more power than the rest of the town put together. I have fought pitched battles with magpies over the shiny, shiny beautiful brass....
Is there an emotional support group for guys like me? Maybe a home where we can be treated with drugs and behaviourally modified? I trust my fellow foolish firearm forum friends can be counted upon to be sympathetic to my plight and not make rude jokes at my expense...?




























................got to go, I see a trash bin with my name on it....................






















