Once I dated a guy who was a hunter. He sent me a picture of himself sitting on top a deer or a buck (I have no clue about these things really) and the poor deer-buck was dead. Blood and guts and all were exposed. Gag, right? That poor deer-buck animal was a goner. It's wee little offspring were left to wander through the woods alone.
Now that many moons have passed since I dated hunter-boy, I too have gone the way of the huntress.
Well, kind of.
I recently shot an animal. And I have the picture to prove it. No, it's no deer-buck animal. But a Moose!
Yes, ya'll. I done gone and shot me a Moose.
Now who's the huntress?
Boo-yah. Ya'll come back y'here.
(Something about shooting wildlife has inspired the hick-lovin', animal-huntin' side of me.)
5 SPLURTS:
You are lying! You did not shoot that poor mother father!
You huntress, you!
Jessie! No one cracks me up like you.
Your way is much cleaner that the way of the former boyfriend.
Your way is much cleaner that the way of the former boyfriend.
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