AHighlyIntellectualAccountofaWhitetailDeerHunt

Recently, as I sat in my blind one mornin’, durin’ the huntin’ season,
Ponderin’ the majesty of God’s somewhat indecipherable creation,
I saw a bunch of shootin’ stars dart across the early mornin’ sky
And then I saw somethin’ that was
A lot more than just a plain old shootin’ star,
Though, since I’m not a star expert—one of them astronomolies—
I don’t for sure know what it was,
Maybe it was a comet, or a asterisk, or some dang thing like that.

I also heard a Great Horny Owl, as well as a whole bunch of turkeys,
Makin’ a horrible racket some two hundred yards away.
Of course how far away they were is really anybody’s guess.
I just like to think I can judge sich things.
And I also heard the rattlin’ of antlers, maybe about seventy yards away,
It was one of them battles between two larger than life bucks—them’s men deer—
Vyin’ for the right to father the next generation of whitetails
That would re-populate this here particlar neck of the woods.
That battle demonstratin’ their superiority is repeated thousands,
Maybe even a gazillion times a year,
Throughout our part of this North American continent
We like call the good old U.S of A.

And I also heard the yelping of coyote pups
And the eerie howling of their progenators.
And, the, never to be mistaken for anything else, sound of honkin’ geese
As they passed over, journeyin’ to a warmer, more hospitable climate.
And to my disfrazelment, I heard the disgusting, annoying,
Seemingly entirely unnecessary sound of a big ole rooster pheasant,
Who apparently only makes that disgusting, annoying sound
For the very purpose of being disgusting and annoying.
Nah, there’s gotta be a reason for him to make such a godawful sound;
Though in my un-infinitesimal wisdom,
I haven’t the slightest idea what it might be.

I also got to see another wondrous, once in a lifetime sight the other mornin’.
About a hour before sunrise, while the moon was still ashinnin’ bright,
I seen, with the aid of my trusty Nikon by-noclars,
A magnificent whitetail man deer—that’s a buck—
Standing right smack dab in the middle of a lea
(an’ for you city folk, a lea is an open field surrounded by a bunch of trees)
Anyways, that big old buck was standing right smack dab in the middle of that lea
Just snortin’ up a storm,
Apparently—and I say apparently ‘cause I couldn’t see her at first—
Apparently that buck was attempting to attract a lady deer—that’s a doe—
Though I’m not so sure she really was a lady, the way she was actin’;
‘Cause pretty soon she come runnin’ outta them trees near the edge of that field
Straight at that ole buck an’ began doin’ her part of the matin’ ritual.
Now that ritual’s been going on for a bazillion years, maybe even longer.
But it was the first time I ever seen it live, up close, and personal,
And I gotta tell ya, I was impressed.

Anyways, in less time than it takes Clint Eastwood’s orangetang Clyde to sneeze,
She was standing right next to that big old buck—that’s a man deer.
Why, she was so close I wasn’t even sure at first there was two of ‘em;
That was, of course until they began circlin’ one another.
And I gotta tell ya, that was a sight. 0000 doggie! It was just like they was dancing.
For every move he made, she’d make an equal and opposite counter move,
Just like one of them physicasts formulas; you know what I mean;
For every action, there’s some equal and oppositional reaction, or something like that.
Well, let me tell ya, the physicalness there, ‘twixt them two was somethin’ to behold.
And, just ‘cause I was there that early, crisp, November mornin’,
I got to see ‘em in all their glory—a buck and a doe courtin’ one another.
Man-a-live!, National Geographic’s got nothin’ on me no more!

And then, by golly, as if that weren’t enough, just a day or so later,
One more’n half a dozen of them loud, obnoxious goblin gobblers
I had heard in the distance just a few days before
Come a struttin’ out of the bushes, not more than 40 feet from where I was sittin’.
And they never even suspected I was in the neighborhood.
I knowed that to be true ‘cause they didn’t fret none, not even a skosh;
They just meandered off across just about 70 foot of open field
An’ disappeared into the brush on the other side.
And then somethin’ did spook ‘em cause they all took ta flight,
Gobble gobbling up a storm, like you never in one lifetime ever did hear,
Like someone was a pinching their funny bones or somethin’,
Like they was really scared. I mean, I never saw turkeys fly so quick
And make so much noise in such a short space of time.

And as if that weren’t enough, I got ta see a huge, and I mean real huge owl.
I don’t know what brand or model he was, ‘cause I’m no horticulturist.
Don’t misconstrue me; we all know the world needs them hi-tech biological gurus,
Just as much as it needs them that favors the intellectual side like me.
Anyways, I saw that old owl swoop down from a tree and nab somethin’—
pro’bly a field mouse—and fly right off outta sight, back into them woods,
Pro’bly back onto a distant tree limb.
And I can tell you, that tree limb would have ta be a big one to hold that big old owl.
I mean he had to of weighed thirty, possible even forty pounds.
And I ain’t exaggeratin’ none neither, leastways not on purpose.
He was indespicably the biggest hooter I ever did see.

Yeah, the opportunities are seemless, sittin’ in the woods in a huntin’ blind,
Waitin’ for that big buck—that’s a man deer—ta pop outta the woods
During the daylight hours so’s you can shoot ‘im and take ‘im home,
And brag about him to your friends and neighbors.
And maybe, just maybe have ‘im mounted so’s you can just gaze on him
Those days when you can’t go out and sit in that blind,
And watch all them adventurous animals romp and revel
In the beauteous out of doors in the wondrous wooded forests of eastern Montana.

Yeah, I knew there was a reason, in June of '93, on that hot summer afternoon
While we was roastin’ in the afternoon sun in Arizona, an’ I mean roastin’.
It was a hundred and twenty-four degrees in the shade and there weren’t no shade.
Anyways, I knowed there was a reason I and my better’n average half
Come ta this high plains country.
Now all I gotta do is convince her it was the right thing ta do.
Of course, with my immeasurable intellect,
That shoots right off the other end of that there richter scale,
That shouldn’t be too difficult a task.

by D.L. Purkey

This is an email I received a few day ago. I think it is worth your time to read, so I have posted it here. It addresses Barbara Boxer's stupit comments to a general in the United States Army.

Babs:

You were so right on when you scolded the general on TV for using the term, "ma'am," instead of "Senator". After all, in the military, "ma'am" is a term of respect when addressing a female of superior rank or position. The general was totally wrong. You are not a person of superior rank or position. You are a member of one of the world's most corrupt organizations, the U.S. Senate, equaled only by the U.S. House of Representatives.

Congress is a cesspool of liars, thieves, inside traders, traitors, drunks (one who killed a staffer, yet is still revered), criminals, and other low level swine who, as individuals (not all, but many), will do anything to enhance their lives, fortunes and power, all at the expense of the People of the United States and its Constitution, in order to be continually re-elected.

Many democrats even want American troops killed by releasing photographs. How many of you could honestly say, "We pledge our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor"? None? One? Two?

Your reaction to the general shows several things. First is your abysmal ignorance of all things military. Your treatment of the general shows you to be an elitist of the worst kind. When the general entered the military (as most of us who served) he wrote the government a blank check, offering his life to protect your derriere, now safely and comfortably ensconced in a 20 thousand dollar leather chair, paid for by the general's taxes. You repaid him for this by humiliating him in front of millions.

Second is your puerile character, lack of sophistication, and arrogance which borders on the hubristic. This display of brattish behavior shows you to be a virago, termagant, harridan, nag, scold or shrew, unfit for your position, regardless of the support of the unwashed, uneducated masses who have made California into the laughing stock of the nation.

What I am writing, are the same thoughts countless millions of Americans have toward Congress, but who lack the energy, ability or time to convey them. Regardless of their thoughts, most realize that politicians are pretty much the same, and will vote for the one who will bring home the most bacon, even if they do consider how corrupt that person is. Lord Acton (1834 - 1902) so aptly charged, "Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Unbeknownst to you and your colleagues, "Mr. Power" has had his way with all of you, and we are all the worse for it.

Finally Senator, I, too, have a title. It is "Right Wing Extremist Potential Terrorist Threat." It is not of my choosing, but was given to me by your Secretary of Homeland Security, Janet Napolitano. And you were offended by "ma'am"? Have a fine day. Cheers!

Jim Hill
16808 - 103rd Avenue Court
East South Hill, WA 98374

Hunter Gets Attacked

The following is a parody of a true event that occurred recently in Montana. Only the names were changed to protect the guilty. It is intended to provide a little humor to our otherwise dull and difficult lives.

Hunter Reports Getting Assaulted by a Giant Masked Creature,
Dateline, Sidney, Mt. Sept. 5, 2009: Hunter Jordina Hallman called the Montana Fish and Game warden yesterday morning reporting that a giant, masked creature had just attacked him as he was on his way to his tree stand to hunt whitetail deer. He described the event as harrowing and unnerving. As he was walking in the early morning hours, about an hour before sun up, a giant, furry animal, wearing a mask jumped out of the brush and began hissing at him in a threatening manner. Jordina says he then grabbed a big stick from off the ground and began beating the animal to no avail. The animal knocked him into a ravine about ten feet deep, filled with water. The water destroyed both his cell phone and his brand new used distance locater. He fought off the assailant valiantly and climbed out of the ravine only to discover he had a badly sprained ankle. He bravely continued on to his tree stand where he climbed up twenty feet before he could finally sit down and rest. He had the opportunity to shoot a few small deer, but decided the perilous beginning to his day necessitated he only settle for a big buck or a good sized doe. When he arrived home to tell his wife Mindy about the incident, she seemed unconcerned. That evening, while having dinner at a friend’s house, that friend’s wife (whose name will be withheld to protect her innocence), bandaged his swollen ankle and put ice on it. Jordina commented to his wife that she should watch and see how a wife is supposed to take care of her mighty hunter when he returns home injured from the dangerous consequences of a hunt. She laughed hysterically.
Jordina said the assailant left the scene in a red Mustang convertible. Police are currently searching for it. If you have any information leading to the arrest and/or conviction of this villain, please call the Montana Fish and Game office or your local law enforcement center. A $5.00 reward is being offered by the Jordina Hallman estate.