True dat

Thanks, Woody

Oh, I get it now!

Thanks, Yolo

Please don't pull my Okie card

For the past year or so it's gotten to where I prefer a platter of flour tortillas with my beans instead of cornbread.
I'm sorry.

Thanks, Mother Nature

The week before my vacation the weather was great. The days were clear and calm with temperatures up into the mid 70s.
I go on vacation and the temps dropped to the high 50s - low 60s, it rained 4 days, and the wind was gusting. Shitty fishing and shooting weather, to say the least.
This week when I go back to work, the weather is supposed to be clear, temps back up to the 70s.......

A White Trash Saturday evening

It was Saturday afternoon with absolutely nothing to do except yard work and we all know how I feel about that.
I put down my book and wandered over to the window. Hmmm, no wind. Looks like it's time to finally zero my 22-250.
I loaded up and headed out to Willie and Debbie's place. There's a spot out there that's got a huge pile of walnut trees where the landlord took out a couple acres of orchard. That would serve as a fine backstop, and there was over a hundred yards of open field beyond that to shoot from. On the other side of the tree pile is the creek with a high bank, no houses beyond that.
I pulled up and parked. Debbie came wandering out with her morning coffee in her hand a goat kid on her heels. Straight-up White Trash, God Bless Her.
"Hey Sis, you mind if I grab a zero real quick? Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes or so."
"No, go right ahead. You gonna hunt when you're done?"
We visited for a few minutes, then she went in to shower and get ready for work.
I set up my target, paced off a hundred yards, marked the spot then went and got my truck. I laid up in the bed, rested my forestock on my bags and commenced to shooting. Three groups later I had my zero and a very nice group that measured just a hair under an inch. Then I set up on the ground and fired a group from the bipod that went about an inch and a half. I was pretty impressed with that rifle. I was hoping for something like that but damned sure wasn't expecting it.
I headed back to the house and shot the shit with Debbie and her daughter Hillary while I let the property cool down. There's always gunfire and bird cannons going off and these coyotes are farm coyotes so they're used to man, but it was still an hour and a half before sunset and I didn't think they'd be moving yet.
A little while later I went out and found a spot up the slope from the creek not too far from where I had zeroed, crawled into a tractor rut and made myself as comfortable as I could. Then I started giggling to myself - this is a hell of a way to spend a Saturday evening. In a rut and a wet one at that. Oh well.
It was still awhile til sunset, but I did a couple of calls, then gave it a rest. Then I caught movement out of the corner off my eye. Not 75 yards away, here comes a young coyote trotting along with his head up his ass. I don't think he was responding to my call by the way he was acting, he just had someplace else to be and was headed there.
I was like a 10 year old kid with buck fever. When should I pick up the gun? Bipod or freehand? Do I even have a fucking round in the chamber?
Fuck that shit. I snatched the rifle, woofed to stop him and then smoked his ass. He started to move forward just as I shot, but he went down, thrashed, then went over the bank.
By the time I got there, he had drug himself into the worlds' thickest patch of blackberry thicket. I poked around for a minute and finally spotted part of him about 15 feet in. I chucked a rock at him to see if he moved, but he was finished.
I wanted that coyote bad but there was no way in hell I was going to rip up my clothes and skin just to retrieve vermin with a fleabitten hide.
Debbie was waiting for me at the truck with a big grin and a cold beer. "Did you nail that fucker, Kenny?"
Damn, that beer tasted good. It turned out to be a great Saturday night after all.

Busch, Bush. Tomato, Potato

The warehouse that I work at gives us gift cards for the supermarket that we service. Now this store is kinda sorta upscale (read that expensive) so I normally don't shop there until I accumulate about a hundred bucks worth of gift cards.
So today I decided to go shopping. I needed various and sundry items including beer, dogfood and a healthy supply of rawhide bones for CharlieGoddammit to gnaw on instead of my fucking arm.
Now because this store caters to customers that are a bit more sophisticated than Poor White Trash, whenever I go there I tend to dress down, so I put on the pants and coat that I was wearing yesterday - just a tad dirty from reclining in a tractor rut while attempting to call in coyotes. Besides, I haven't done laundry and didn't have any clean pants. I'll be fucked if I'm going to do laundry just to go shopping.
Okay. I get in the store and am loaded down with 30 cans of dogfood, a weeks' supply of rawhide bones and my own shit and head over to get some beer. When I get to the beer aisle, there's a cutie in there stocking the shelves.
Oooh, a victim!
She sees me standing there scanning the shelves for my favorite brand and comes over to offer assistance,
"Can I help you find something, sir?"
"Yeah, you sure can. You got any Busch?"
It takes a second for it to sink in. Then her smile falters and she clamps her legs together so tight she cuts off the circulation to her feet.
"I-I-I'm sorry? Do I have bush?" She's stuttering, stammering and turning the cutest shade of red.
"Yeah. Busch. You got Busch?"
"I beg your pardon?" She don't know whether to run or what. My God, she's being confronted by a sex offender right here at work.
"Busch Beer. Do you have any Busch Beer?"
"Oh! Busch BEER! Beer! I understand now. No, I'm sorry. We don't carry that brand."
Jeez, these kids nowadays need to get their minds out of the gutter.
And I need to find another store to shop at. If they don't carry Busch, they don't need me as a customer, gift cards or not.

The Warrior Song

Copy and paste the link below for an ass-kicking video.
Thanks Jim, for passing this along.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTs6a0ORdQU

Video post problems

Okay, for some reason when I've tried to post a video lately I get about half the screen. I don't know what the problem is but I'm working on it.

Coyote hunting (not shooting)

Well, we got out there and set up about an hour before dusk, about a hundred yards from the treeline bordering the creek.
While heading out to our spot, we were checking the tracks that were all over the place. They were plentiful, they were huge, and there was a nice spread in the stride.
Once we got set up, I commenced to calling and...... nothing. Not a fucking thing. I could make excuses like the wind swirling our scent along the creek, moonrise not being until 12:30 AM, gunfire a quarter mile off, I got Copenhagen in my call, but the fact is that they would only be excuses. I just couldn't call them up.
I'll be back another day.

Say what????

This idiot talks about a island tipping over just past the 1 min. mark. Very sad and don't forget that he votes and shoved health care up our ass. Makes one want to cry.
-Woody