The Shitter
Clemson’s offense has driven me to the point that I really don’t want to watch. Worse than watching is the moaning from my buddies during the games. So, yesterday, me and my little buddy went to the deer stand and put the phone on airplane mode and enjoyed the evening.
We had seen the same young 8 point twice at the far end of our dove field (700 yards), and just after sunset he entered the field crossing left to right at about 600 yards. While in the stand yesterday morning, we had talked about grunt calls, and the like. So, I reached down and grabbed the grunt call, hit it, and his head pops straight up. I hit it again, and here he comes. He never broke stride or wavered from his course. I had him ready and told him to let me know when to stop him. At 75 ish he said he was ready, I “manked” him, and he put one in the dead center of his chest, dropping him.
As the buck was approaching, a true big one came out of the same trail 600 yards away, and watched the whole thing go down. There was a thought of grunting again to see if he would come, but that deer is for another day and another step as a hunter.
We ate him, Clemson won, and WOB owes me a beer.
Them that don't know him won't like him, and them that do sometimes won't know how to take him
He ain't wrong, he's just different, and his pride won't let him do things to make you think he's right
They don't put Championship rings on smooth hands
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Originally Posted by walt4dun
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