I think Munich may be the mullet capital of Europe. They're everywhere. We did a bike tour of the city and one of the games was for anyone in the group to scream "MULLET!!!" at the top of their lungs anytime they saw one whilst simultaneously ringing their bell. Good childish fun. God I loved Munich
Mississippi deer reminded me of reindeer, good for sausage and feeding the hounds and not much else. I even had one Mississippi deer that wasn't much bigger then a German Shepard...I was salivating over how nice and tender that meat was going to be. Nope. Tough and greasy. I really did feed it to some stray puppies someone abandon on my property. It was quite entertaining watching those little guys devour a hind quarter, growling, barking, ripping and tearing. (For the record: I didn't turn loose a pack of wild dogs with a taste for deer on the countryside, I eventually found all of them good homes.)
I fucking loved Munich, but the biggest mullet I ever saw was in Vienna. The party in the back was down to the waist. I have the photo on my blackberry, and even though I was there and saw it in the flesh, I still have to convince people the mullet belonged to a woman.
Fuck this weather, it was 90 on Tuesday and the high for the weekend is 70. Fuck this, gonna be on the lake either way but apparently its gonna be chilly.
You see, the reason ya'll are upset is because you just can't handle the event horizon-magnetism of mullet power. Just LOOK at that shit. Feel the power. Wait......feel it. So pissed. So Rokken (like Dokken). You know this is a stone-cold metal ladies man who parties where the T-tops rock all night and the withdrawal method is 100% effective. Always brings a 6'er of a fine beverage, preferably of the Miller High Life variety. Shoppin' at Kragen. Sneerin'. Hustlin'. Fuckin' bitches in the shitter. Yer goddamn right. YER GODDAMN RIGHT.
You done lost your damn mind. The deer I hunt eat wheat, corn, soy beans and whatever mother nature provides. When I cook a venison steak, I prepare it just like I would a ribeye... except that I do tenderize it.
Quite possibly, I was spoiled by venison from the northwest that spend their summers frolicking in mountain meadows and drinking fresh, clear spring water. No cultivated foods or flat land mud in their bellies, no siree.
only ever had Michigan deer and for that matter elk. Old males are gristly and stringy, but otherwise good eats, elk especially. I wish I had about 200 pounds of that
I personally know about half a dozen people in my life that, if followed around with a camera for a few weeks or months, would make for better reality television than the Kardashians and this shit. I can't possibly be the only one who knows this to be a fact. Actually, I could pick probably 3-5 board members on here who would make for compelling television. Just give them a few beers, some gambling/spending/hunting money as they see fit, and let 'em loose. Pretty sure katokoch could turn out better tv and product than those sons of guns guys.
I've never understood the mechanics of wiping while sitting. It doesn't make sense to me. Are you reaching down between your legs? Don't your dick/balls get in the way? Are you going in from the back? Levering up on one cheek to the side? You're shoving your arm into the toilet bowl, and likely wiping the side of your arm down the toilet seat in the process. That's fucking weird. Standers don't clap the ass cheeks together to smear shit, you keep your non-wipe hand on one cheek to prevent contact. And you don't stand all the way up, like you're gonna have a casual conversation, it's more of a knees-bent half-squat. Hey, at least we can all agree on using toilet paper (or bidets, for the more fastidious) rather than our (left) hands like the dirty savages in the middle east.
Going skydiving tomorrow and wedding dress shopping on Sunday. I think it's backwards. That way, she could jump in the dress.
I consider this to be a sort of "sit". I always assumed those heathens who claimed to stand up were doing so, standing fully straight off the toilet. To properly wipe, you sit and reach from behind, leaning forward a bit to create a gap between you and toilet seat. Never from the front. Jesus.