I have a gun. Welllll, I know people that have guns, so that basically means I have one.
My great uncle was shot in the lip with a BB Gun (bee bee?). He was tellin' me all about it. And then he told me, "Well, Ceeeeee, you turned out lookin' like a pretty nice lookin' kid." Redundant? Who cares. It's a compliment from someone with throat cancer . . . You don't get those every day.