I like shooting in the butt...

Not another anal sex post but rather one about the joys of shooting. I have just spent a couple of days in a grouse butt banging away at these little blighters.

I read Puff Mud's musings on blasting away at stuff (8th Nov) and it struck a chord. There is something really primaeval about hunting with guns, I have yet to find a man who, having tried it, has not enjoyed it. I think it is hardwired into the XY chromosome.

Nevertheless, one always sounds a total shit - using a 12 bore on a defenceless fluffy creature: there is no real justification. However, I do eat what I kill and anyone who eats meat should consider that what I prefer shooting (grouse) has lived free and happy - how many battery hens that you've eaten haven't? Yes, that is a crap plea in mitigation but these things are bloody difficult to shoot (they come at you at over 60mph with the wind behind you) and their natural evasion technique of jinking (to avoid stooping peregrine falcons) means that you hit very few of them.

Worse to admit, it makes me very horny, killing stuff. No, I don't mean that I get a hard on as I pull the trigger - lock me away, if that ever is the case - but afterwards, back at the lodge. I want to get laid. Mrs Salvatori also seems to be up for it. Is there a primative reaction in the male and female? Me big hunter: you Jane? And is there something hormonal in women - reward the bringer of meat by taking his meat (ewww)? Perhaps putting food on the table promotes a mating response (but doesn't seem to work after I get back from Tescos...).

Who knows? Who cares? I just like banging away at the birds and then banging away at my bird when I get home (phnar, phnar).

So chalk up another reason why Salvatori is a bounder...



Reminds me of my favorite hunting joke:

Two guys go moose hunting up in the wilds of Canada. They get dropped into a lake by a seaplane. The pilot wishes them good hunting but warns them that he can only take one moose back, as the plane will be overloaded.

The guys bag a magnificent bull moose each - massive antlers and impressive physiques. The pilot comes to get them the next day and they start strapping both moose to the plane.

"Hold on!" he says. "I told you we can only take one."

The guys start whining and pleading. They call the guy a pussy and then tell the pilot that the previous year, the pilot let them take two moose, so why can't he? They go on and on about how the previous pilot allowed two moose.

"Ok," he said. They get in and the pilot guns the engines to the max. The plane lumbers along the lake and just makes it off the water, but it's handling like a pig. Worse, the treeline is fast approaching. BLAM - they hit the top of the trees and careen in. As the pilot crawled out of the wreckage, he heard one of the hunters ask, "Where are we?" to which the other replied, "About 100 yards further than we got last year..."

Enjoy...