In honor of No-Shave November (don’t worry –my male housemate is taking part in this ritual, not me), I want to go hunting (also inspired by said male housemate). Something about these scruffy-faced college boys inspires getting down in the dirt with a rifle.
First, I’m going to set the record straight – yeah, I do feel kind of bad killing innocent animals, but I also eat non-free-range chicken, arguably just as bad. I’d like to stay away from shooting the bunnies and the Bambis and start instead with ducks, or maybe cardboard cutouts leaning on hay stacks.
Most importantly, though, it has to be real. A day with nature, albeit screwing with the circle of life. Being in the country (preferably somewhere in Texas), staying still for hours (okay, let’s be real here – a few minutes will be challenge enough), and crawling through mud and ticks to find the perfect spot. Let’s just hope I don’t go on my first hunting expedition during No-Shower September.
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