Engorgeous George

Damn, I love underboob.

I hope you catch good cards tonight whether playing poker, sheepshead, euchre or booray.

Not going back to Wisconsin this year. My cousin and his boys and grandsons will be hunting the land. Every year now we talk about selling but every year we keep it one more year. (Owned jointly by both families) I will go up to elk Camp near Craig Colorado. I have a tag to fill. I don't know how much longer I will elk hunt. (These are with buddies, not family, and frankly we are all getting a bit long in the tooth for these hunts.) Age and a knee and hip replacement make the high country hard on me. My wife's father, now deceased, has property near Story Wyoming and I enjoy going up there to hunt antelope. Much less hard on me as the stalks are on fairly level ground and you can usually bring your truck to the animal rather than the other way around. I do start to question whether I should be shooting at the distances needed for elk, and antelope in particula,r where a typical shot may be 300 yards. I don't shoot often enough to be sharp any more and even if i did I think my eyesight and overall steadiness have deteriorated my abilities somewhat.

Nice story. Thanks for sharing. My extended family owned 8 farms on 2 and a half sections of land in total in southern Wisconsin. We would hunt those for pheaqsant, turkey, and whitetail during shotgun season. Se also had the land and blockhouse up near Tomah we used for rifle season and for poker with the boys. We also stay there for opening day of fishing. We occassionally would throw down some seed while there for opening day of fishing which would maybe germinate and produce results come the fall, but mostly we let the land do what it wanted. The land was varied enough to be very supportive ahbitat just as it was. It was an old farm and orcahrd that was 100 years fallow and so grpwn back in but with still some apple trees and some corn which would pop up. also a bit of a cranberry bog in one small cornor. It has woods, meadows, bog. Its great.

Indeed. As grandpa aged he still liked to hunt. Our family hunts were less well attended but I always went with him. We still generally had enough attendance to get a group tag so we could take an additioanl buck or one doe beyond the number of hunters. Grandpa usually got that deer in addition to his own. His last hunt was just he and I. He got his. I carried it out for him as he could never had done so at his age. We kept hunting. He could not figure out how I didn't get as shot as I always got my deer. While resting he looked in my gun. He saw I was not loaded. I was just there for a final walk with him. He got my deer as well as his own. We had a nice walk. He did not make it to Thanksgiving that year.

I'm smiling right now imagining what my neighbors would think and do if they saw a deer hanging from the rafters of my garage and me skinning it. I imagine i would get a visit from the cops and get ticketed for processing it at home. Something to do with health codes and disposal of offal. The neighbors would be horrified.

Grandpa used a bay in his garage to hang them and bleed them. Generally we finished our family hunt the Saturday before Thanksgiving. We would generally have 5 deer, all hung from block and tackle in the garage rafters, field dressed, bleeding out through nose cuts into coffee cans. Generally it was pretty cool that time of year so this was effectively refrigeration. After a few days it was time to skin them. We boys would pull while dad and grandpa did the cutting. We would scrape the hides to remove fat and fascia, stretch them over a loom and place them outside and return to work on the next deer. As a family we could get through 5 deer in a little over an hour. Granda and dad would then do the butchering. They had a table, knives, and saws and a butchers paper role with cutter to wrap the meat. We boys were supposed to label each package and place them in the deep freeze or into canvas tarps with ice for transport to our deep freezes. After they got the meat we would eat as steaks or roasts it was time to drive the rest of the carcass down to the german guy for processing. I once stayed and watched he and grandpa work. They cleaned those bones in no time. The meat went into a grinder while I turned the handle. They put in strips of pork, mostly fat, some spices, I remember coriander and pepper, and a bit of rolled oats. In those days the product was extruded into washed pig intestine, twisted and hung until they were done. The old german guy got half the sausage and we took the rest back to grandpa's smoke house for hickory smoking. During those times I got to know my grandfather. We also fished together as a family on opening weekend, my grandfather, our family of boys, and my cousins family, uncle and boys. Those traditions die with me as I had no boys and the girls had no interest.

His letter lacked the dignity, gravitas, and frankly the thoughfulness of our Declaration of Independence. It is a screed of a religious fanatic, fuill of provable falsities along with grievances, real grievances, but grievances given no context. Only those brainwashed by our modern "educational" system would find his letter compelling.

My grandfather and my dad were both extremely capable at butchering a deer. They would take the backstrap for grilling and some thigh amd shoulder muscles for roasts (usually one of those would appear on our thanksgiving table along with some Turkey, geese and pheasants form that years hunts). The rest they would jerk or have made into sausage. There was an old german guy down the way who would make the sausage and then we would smoke it. Me, I can field dress a deer, antelope, or elk competently, but I take them to a lincensed butcher shop for processing. Grandpa use to tan the hides himself. He was pretty handy.

Bing Videos

I thought I would see this when ther neighborhoods around me were being built but there was none of this. Now with no construction occuring for miles around it seems slightly strange. I suppose there is landscaping and painting always to be done and basement finishes and the like.

Fire Rescue and Ambulance service.

My wife likes living on a paved road so there will be some convincing to do. Government assistance would be spotty, at best, and as we get older she thinks more about stuff like ambulance service.

Can we get forensic analysis of the ice cubes to determine how long they were melting in the glass?

I initially thought you were going to go with the old basketball joke.

Just answering the man's question.

Oh, and make no mistake, I am the Gorn.

Nothing on the Teamster guy's Wiki page about H.S. or college wrestling (apparently only one semester of college) or about golden gloves boxing. He seems notably ill-trained or prepared to fight an MMA fighter, but who knows?

It would be epic if the San Fran holeles sweep relocated them to this L.A. underpass, but that seems geographically unlikely.

Teamster president did seem rather doughy. Clearly he has not missed many meals, or many between meal snacks, or many middle of the night feedings in the last twenty years. Still, who knows, maybe he has a background in wrestling or golden gloves. Or maybe his background is confined to elbowing in line at the Country Buffet.

I have seen a number of videos posted on this site of groups, gangs if you will, of black youth attacking lone whites. They seem to relish a group beat down and when the victim is down they seem to relishrunning in for a head stomp. I am wondering, is this behavior endemic to a subculture or do white kids do the same. Is the group beat down and head stomp a cross cultural phenomena?

I prefer one Bo Beep costume and one Gorn, from Star Trek, costume, but to each their own.

Pretty tough to argue this. That's why I mix up a picture of old fashions and fill a camelback first thing in the morning so I can hit that whenever I am too far from a bar to get a proper drink.

I like a warm and still day after a good dusting of snow. After hunting the same land for 50+ years tracks are not all that imprtant (Land is near Tomah, all our farms in the south are now sold but we kept this 80 acres). I pretty much know where they will be so I appreciate a bit of warmth. I know where the dead fall apples are, where the acorns are heaviest, where the rose hips are, where they like to enter and exit the neighboring property's corn field, and where they bed down both day and night. My mother and grandmother once came to the property. As women do they decided they should plant some flowers around the blockhouse. We told them we would never see those flowers because we don't get up there until November. They did it anyhow. Some semblance of those perennials lasted for 20 or more years. The deer loved them. For a time it acclimated them to approach the blockhouse for a good browse. The last remnants of an historic apple orchard still produce on the property. The deer love that. Some 25 or 30 years ago we had some elk move through the property. There was a brucellosis scare at the time. i have not seen any since that one season. Elk camp out here in Colorado is different. Lots more walking and stalking, far less poker and drinking. I am getting too old for it now.

Looks like there will be venison on the Thanksgiving table.