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Posted by Rich Higgins (Member # 3) on February 21, 2005, 05:11 AM:
Constitutional Amendment
James Richards hunts whitetail…which is nothing special considering he lives in south Texas and owns a few acres. What is special is the way he hunts – or did.
Each night during deer season just before turning in, James visits a bare spot just north of a crooked oak tree that sits sixty-two paces west of his front porch, and in that spot he spreads a 50-pound bag of the yellow stuff.
Each morning before daylight, clad only in boots and Jockeys, James fetches the morning paper from his mailbox – a 100-yard jaunt negotiated a bit faster on colder mornings. Back in the house he pours himself a stock tank-sized mug of coffee and heads upstairs for his morning constitutional in his favorite bathroom.
James’ favorite bathroom is pretty much like the other two in his house, except for three additional fixtures – a pair of binoculars, a .30-06, and a window with a damned good view of the bare spot just north of the crooked oak tree.
Now if the cat’s not yet out of the bag, here’s a little help – James hunts whitetail from his second-story toilet, and to “flushing” success, taking some pretty good deer, including one amazing buck four years back.
Mid-constitutional, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, James spied the buck of his life moseying into the bare spot. He hopped up, grabbed his .30-06 and scoped the deer to an adrenaline rush like no other. Jockeys around his ankles like a set of leg irons, James struggled toward the window.
Suddenly, disaster struck as the toilet lid fell. The buck spooked, but miraculously, James instinctively fired and dropped the incredible deer. Unfortunately, the .30-06’s barrel was five feet shy of the window, and the entrapped muzzle-blast rocked the house with the force of a small atomic bomb. Despite a painful ringing in his ears, James was ecstatic. His wife wasn’t so happy.
James’ wife Mary, asleep across the hall until the blast nearly knocked her out of bed, momentarily thought her world had ended, but before the buck hit ground she’d realized what happened and was up and letting James have it.
James, jumping around like a sugared-up third grader, couldn’t hear Mary through his ringing ears, but her rapidly moving jaws and bulging neck veins told him she wasn’t pleased. Too anxious to wait any longer he yelled: “Hey at least I put the lid down!” and flew down the stairs and out to the deer.
Still in boots and Jockeys, James marveled over the monstrous 12-point before retrieving his front-end loader to haul his trophy to the barn. Having trouble focusing on anything but the buck, he crushed two sprinkler heads and flattened the dog house on the way.
Mary permanently relegated James’ hunting to the outdoors – he now opts for the front porch where he’s bagged some nice ones, but nothing like the one from the toilet. James often reminds Mary how she’s violating his “constitutional” rights. Mary insists she’ll allow no more crappy hunters on canned hunts in her house. She also gives James camouflage toilet paper and underwear each year at Christmas.
In protest, James mounted the 12-point – it now hangs in the upstairs bathroom. Unmoved, Mary uses it as a towel rack.
Tripp Holmgrain is an avid outdoorsman flushed with excitement. Email him at tripp@theoutdoortripp.com, or write 1150 N. Loop 1604 W., Suite 108 #230, San Antonio, TX 78248.
Posted by Cdog911 (Member # 7) on February 21, 2005, 02:20 PM:
LMAO- Certain to be a classic.
Posted by Leonard (Member # 2) on February 21, 2005, 03:11 PM:
Not only that, it beats reading catalogs.
Posted by varmit hunter (Member # 37) on February 21, 2005, 04:44 PM:
Now you know where the Texas expression, "Sh*t house luck" comes from.
Ronnie
Posted by tneff (Member # 551) on February 21, 2005, 08:10 PM:
That is to funny , hope he did his paperwork ..
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