I’m a hunter. You know… aim, shoot, aim, shoot, aim, shoot, sorry about your car. Every weekend, I go out into the woods and kill any animals that I’m legally allowed to, plus any poorly-tended livestock I come across. I AM A SPORTSMAN. My ball is the bullet; my arena, the forest; and, my opponent is severely disadvantaged to say the least. I cannot help that I love nature… to the point where I go out each week and kill the portions of nature that flee from me in abject terror…
But, without me, people like me, and a few that just look like me, the woods would be chaos, just as they were before men came to these forests. If we don’t kill them, deer will
be three deep; so, I’m doing them a service by killing what would be the bottom two layers, sparing the survivors from having to listen to muffled “oomphf”s whenever they take a step. Plus, I only kill the males… mostly for food, sport or jealousy over penis length. This means the woods are FULL of sexy does… an Eden for the few males who proceed to copulate vigorously and freely until next deer season when I shoot them in the head as well…
But, these deer don’t go to waste. Some I eat; but, the ones I don’t eat, I at least prod with the toe of my boot… my HUNTING BOOT. I try to use every part of the deer… although, usually I just use body for parts to throw at passing Amtrak trains. I don’t have a good reason for doing this but when have you ever had to have a good reason to throw animal guts at a speeding train? Oh, and sometimes, I take the animals’ heads—but not for anything weird: Just to put on the wall of my den or study.
An animal head on your wall says to any rats or cockroaches that want to move in, “I 
mean BUSINESS”. It also helps as a visual aid when you are recounting your epic battle to your friends: “Even though the odds were overwhelmingly on my side, I succeeded, proving once and for all that I’m not a COMPLETE screw-up, my parents were wrong and DAMN them for dying before I could show them that!”. Also, seeing those sensitive glass deer eyes every day gives me feelings of awe and respect for my ruminant cousin… at least for the top fifth of it that is on my wall. On New Year’s Eve, I put a party hat on it because, as I said before, “Respect!”.
I learned to hunt from my grandfather who hunted tigers in Africa. He ran afoul of the authorities when he started playing “Got Your Nose” with locals causing them to panic. Finally, residents of Namibia slipped him a “mickey” and put him on a steamship to India. There, his luck changed abruptly in that he was mauled in his stateroom just before the ship docked. Doctors tried for hours and hours but they couldn’t decipher the directions to the ship. His body was sent home in a flag-draped coffin with full honors and only a few parasites.
His head, on the other hand, is mounted on the wall in a tiger’s den just outside of Bangalore…
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Potatoes and the Promise of More Potatoes 
Well that was a bit odd to say the least
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Thank you!
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Jealousy of penis length. Best explanation for hunting I’ve ever heard…
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They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?
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Hahaa…Filled with funny bits today! Got your nose! Hahaa
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I added that at three this morning. Amazing what occurs to you at three in the morning…
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Sorry bout your grandfathers head, tis one reason I’m no hunter.
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Well, if he didn’t lose it in India, we all figured he’d lose it somewhere else… Plus the body gave us closure AND something to throw at trains…
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My grandfather put the head of a taxidermist on his wall with a sign that said: I WANT YOUR BUSINESS. He meant it as a joke, but he didn’t think it was funny after his dog saw it and ran away. It must have been a Collie, because when last seen, it was headed for the border.
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I have literally nothing to follow that with…
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Yea, that’s how they justify their sport aright. Pisses me off, even in the humorous vein.
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My dad thought he was a hunter. He’d go out into the woods with a gun and fall asleep under a tree. One time, he woke up and a deer was walking right up to him. He SLOWLY reached over… grabbed his hat and said, “GET OUT OF HERE YOU SUNNOVABITCH!”
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Sounds like “hunting” was a good excuse to get away from your Mom. Now, you know what Freud would say about your choice of a marriage partner…
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That is the most sinister looking deer I have ever seen. We definitely need to keep them in check.
(Also, sorry for your loss–but if that tiger has a head mounted on its wall, it means business, so does that mean we have to compete with them in the capitalist market?)
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Unless he runs an international syndicate or man-eating cats. That’s how Motorola started…
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That tiger’s den with mounted head is now headquarters of head hunters, Bangalore seems to be running out of engineers.
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I think there are a few of your lost engineers in my office. Some I’ll give back to you but I’ve grown attached to some of the others…
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Haha keep them, the ones in your office would come with high expectations
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