NOTICE THE SAFETY ORANGE?? THIS IS A RE-POST FROM BITCHIN & STUFF!
My second husband, Sonny, was a hunter of the truest sense. You know the , get up at 4AM in the middle of winter,meet the fella's, go to breakfast at the Sugargrove Diner, where they had a hitching post outside for the Amish and then go hunting. I had to wash his clothes with no soap and he showered with no soap before going, so the deer wouldn't smell him as easy. You ask me, I think they'd prefer the floral bouquet over mansweat but that's just my opinion. He had to have the perfect outfit, Camo Carharts, thermal boots with just the right tread as to not crunch the snow and leaves too loudly. He'd bend and shape the brim of his safety orange hat, just so by getting the brim wet and wrapping it around a can held on by a rubberband, you know to shape it just so! "Nobody wants to be a goober," he'd tell me but I'm sorry, anybody in blaze orange and camo looks like a goober but then he's put on the Buck lure. OMG Molly Moses did that shit stink or was it the fox lure that took my breath away?
So, off in the woods to drink and shoot at animals which is a really bad contradiction in sensibilities.It doesn't take true genuis to figure out why this is a recipe for big time disaster but what the fuck do I know, I'm just a girl. Of course, being wary of the one dumbass that may be in the woods who thinks it's funny to wear an antler hat and wonders why they get a bullet in the ass?
Well, they get their deer, then drag it to a good location and have to gut it, being extra careful not to tear this and that as it'll foul the meat. Then they throw it up on the hood of the truck and drive from bar to bar drinking and showing it off. They take pics of themselves in their Great American Hunter Uniform and revel in their bounty. Then they'd drag it home, into the back yard and divide it up.
He comes in, all happy, "Hey, look what I got Moe!," wanting to hug on me and smelling to high heaven. Love is truly challenged at that very moment. Not to mention that he's probably not washed his hands after all this except with a gob of snow to rinse.
He hands me a slab of meat like a fucking cave man. I expect him to want to take me and defile me at any moment, slapping me on the ass cause I'm the, "Little Woman." The testosterone is as thick as Los Angeles Smog. This is when I pray, he'll keep drinking and forget about it the monkey love. He wants me to cook up that slab of meat with hair on it still, eeeeew! I rinse it as he says, "You know cook it up with that voodoo you do," which means I use Venison and make a concoction similar to Beef Burgundy that he just loves. The wine gives it a different taste, apparently but I cook from memory, not taste.
Nope, you can't make me do it for all the love or money. To eat something that's been drug through the woods, thrown on the truck, driven around like a tourist, shown off and touched like a stripper at a frat party and then slapped in my hand by a man who probably crapped in the woods and used leaves to wipe his ass, just doesn't have the same ring to me as a dinner bell. Nope, ain't gonna do it. But if you'll wanna eat, here it is, sterilized in alcohol for sanitary purposes. And I was known far and wide for this and my Roasts and sandwich spread after the roast, along with the Potato Leek Soup on a cold winters afternoon.
Yes, he stinky men came from far away to eat my Grub. It's a prideful moment when a man stands and introduces,"The Little Woman," and they all bow in homage to the Great White Housewife.
A Professor was giving a lecture on "Involuntary Muscular Contractions" to his first year medical students.
Realizing that this was not the most riveting subject, the Professor decided to lighten the mood slightly.
He pointed to a young woman in the front row and said, "Do you know what your ass hole is doing while you're having an orgasm?"
She replied, "Probably deer hunting with his buddies."
My buddy Wysteria,aka Shad Catcher, sent me this. She's always good for a laugh or insight. Check out her Southbound Adventures, it awe inspiring.