Paintballing and SF antics in celebration of Steve's last remaining days as a bachelor. March 2005.
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Randall prepared all of his oil lube, sweet chassis, and tailpipe pickup lines in case there were any hot chicks at the paintball course.
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Paka: Wait a minute. 'Not liable for injury, death or involuntary penile amputation.' ?? Anyone got a cup I can borrow?
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Paka looked as hardcore as a guy with a bright orange condom on his gun could look.
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His ghosts finally caught up with him.
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Steve had everything he needed: extra paintballs, pain medication, water, and the 20lbs of hashish he was the mule for later in the day.
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Mike: ..and this is the trigger. Pull this and stuff comes out of the barrel very very fast. Steve: Hehe, stuff.
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The first game of the day. Also known as "Hide until time runs out".
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Much to the dismay of the men behind the wood barrier, they hadn't paid extra for the 'shoot an unarmed woman' package.
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Steve comes down with a case of the vapors and retires for the round.
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Camo infused with red - for blending into the urban jungle. Or, you know, the circus.
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Dead to the paintballing world, Walter took the walk of shame confident that the pornography that awaited him in his backpack would heal all wounds.
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Steve explained to the group how, with a red ribbon and some creative knots, one could transform a simple weapon into a fashion accessory.
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John's makeout sessions with the Tang spokeswoman were legendary.
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After being shot in the face, Paka was reticent to remove his mask after the game was over. An appeal to his Samoan side, food, was the only solution.
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Randall displays his knee juice.

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