Sunday, November 8, 2015

A Regular Sunday

It's hard to think, much less speak, on the back porch over the sound of mad dogs barking and the cacophony of crazed peacocks.

I tell you, it's a wall of sound, and we're not talking Phil Spector. But we are talking scoff.

A Philisophical Friend

That's because my Wittgensteinian ally has tipped up, looking for some country action. Normally he hunts in South East Africa. Tomorrow, we'll be hunting in South East Texas, on a central tip. 

Cook it Up!

And who knows, we might even get something, unlike our Syrian Terrorist Training Program, which failed, dismally.

Your Old Pal,



LL said...

I hope that you are not eating wart hog...I'm sure that it's edible, but smoke up bacon instead of eating chops.

LSP said...

I took your advice and stayed clear of the WH. Bacon? Different story.

Mattexian said...

How far into "South East Texas" didja go? That's kinda my neck of the woods; I'm at the southernmost boundary of the historic Big Thicket, now scattered slivers of its former self.

LSP said...

Plans changed! We went local... still good to get out in the field.

Mattexian said...

Ah! Staying closer to home works too. Doing that myself quite a bit lately.

jenny said...

That warthog your philosophical friend shot is so hideous, I wouldn't have the stomach to even look at it again, much less clean it, MUCH LESS eat the beast...

I think I'm a bit out of touch with the origins of the meat I eat.
Like, the idea that fur is ever stuck to it is really gross.