Marinated to perfection in a blend of bbq sauce, soya, pressed garlic and HP. The three deer steaks were lowered in the preheated fry pan with just a touch of olive oil coating the bottom. Freshly chopped onions and mushrooms added when the steaks were flipped. The aroma filled the kitchen with a heavenly mist...Marie gagged probably thinking about the sweet deer that gave it's life so that I may eat. Thank you French Dave for the gift on your last visit.
After a scoff like this I was reenergized grabbing quota guru and heading out the door like wild game being hunted.
Arrived at one of my favorite rugrat reeducation fields. I was alone.....at least for a time. Out of the backdrop of trees a doe and a fawn appeared. they grazed as I swung. The doe did the dew with little regard that I was down wind. I guess dwags are not the only mobile manure makers on the football pitch. Had enough being dumped on. I limped towards them causing an immediate retreat back into the woods. The lesche tool flashed, flung and the dew followed the duo into the woods. Imagine making a mid field tackle and landing in the crap! My good deed for the day.
it was at this time I had a flashback to my daughter Kayla's movie which she would watch over and over. My favorite line came to mind after my doe dew encounter;
"I'm sorry Bambi but your mother cannot be with us anymore."
Dam straight as I had eaten her at supper! Don't get me wrong I love eating wild game but to shoot one....not in this bouy's DNA!
Shortly thereafter and after a few coins I unearthed this 925er.
I'ze a dinking my "dear' will love this one.
The wild life was having a feast at my expense on me so I called it a day. See golf egg season is once again upon us!
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