Written by Bobson Dugnutt
After my little truth bomb about Glocks some time ago, I kept getting a boatload of hate mail. It seems some folks mistakenly think that I am CZ fanboy or somethin’. That would be Cee-ZEE, not Cee-ZED as some of you uncivilised foreign folk seem to pronounce it. I would like to straighten these varmints out.
I ain’t got no time to waste with no stinkin’ Cee-ZEE.
Sure, Glocks suck. That is a scientific fact like the sun revolving around the earth. If you have a problem with science, go tell it to Stanley Hawking. But at least Glocks are guns. A CZ is an ornament. Like my father’s cremated brain.
Now, I used to own a CZ Shadow. I had to sell five kidneys to Albanian organ harvesters just to afford that ill-thought-through purchase. And that in itself was no joke: you know how difficult it is to find “donors” for five human kidneys? I spent a fortune on ice and chloroform, and that was before I bought the stupid CZ!
Anyhow, I paid a king’s ransom for the Transylvanian sardine can, expecting that since it was a metal gun it would at least give me the same reliability as my Colt 1911. Boy was I wrong. The slidestop thingamajig kept breaking off. I could barely get five rounds downrange without the slide flying off like my mother-in-law flies off the handle after ingesting a barrel of Uncle Rebus’s backyard hooch. She still does more damage to inanimate objects and people, by the way. Otherwise I would have given the CZ a pass on this one.
Of course the constant mechanical failure has nothing to do with me using an angle grinder (and some other tools) to modify the “weapon” to be more carry-friendly. Any manufacturer who doesn’t take into account that some of their end-users are going to adapt their product to suit them ain’t worth wasting your dollars on. Design envelopes were made to be pushed, gosh darnit!
It’s like the time my friend Sleve McDichael removed the break discs, radiator, and roll cage from his Ford Cortina when he was trying out for NASCAR back in ’92. He reckoned that by cutting all that excess weight, the car would be plenty fast. And he was right! You should have seen Sleve go! He was the fastest man on the track until he hit the first turn, at which point he became the fastest man off the track. He definitely would have been a championship-winning NASCAR driver today if it weren’t for the fact that he ended up in hospital with a broken coccyx. Actually, he had a broken everything. And the car was a write-off. But that ain’t the point.
Another problem with the CZ is that it ain’t got a decocker. If you play those limp-dick gun games, wearin’ your fancy-smancy bicycle shirt with more colours than a box of Crayola, you need a decocker. Making the pistol’s first shot double-action requires crazy fine motor skills. With all that holding the hammer with your one hand and squeezing the trigger with your other. I just don’t have that kind of time!
The not having a decocker also impacts on my ability to carry one in the chamber, like a crazy fool. I tried that carry condition after getting the CZ to see what all the fuss was about. But since it ain’t a 1911 I don’t trust them Serbian child molesters to have built something safe to carry cocked-and-locked. When I was tryin’ to get the darn thing “decocked” for first time carry, it went horribly wrong due to this inherently irresponsible design choice. I blew a hole in my friend Darryl Archidel’s Patagonian Python Terrier. It is (…er, was) a super intelligent and incredibly rare dog breed. One of a kind, really. Darryl didn’t speak to me for months after that.
Look, the fact that we were chugging some of Darryl’s Rusty Mountain Bathtub Bourbon while I was loadin’ the gun in his kitchen (with the darn dog jumping up and trying to hump my kneecap) isn’t any reason not to blame the CZ engineers. All this heartache and eardrum perforation because of lazy Scandinavian design. Them dumbass socialists.
It should be clear by now that I sure as heck ain’t no CZ fanboy. The only thing that hunk of angle iron is good for is to be used as a doorstop. Or hammer. Or flower pot for the honey bunny.
Cee-ZEE is garbage built by Slavic troglodytes on pumpkin meth. Stay away from it and buy a real gun. Like a .38 special or somethin’.
Bobson Dugnutt is a former Tier III Urban Operator. He also played Major League Baseball (MLB) back in the 90’s. He currently resides above a boulangerie in Le Rue Marie Antoinette in Libreville.