Bubba's out hunting...
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2003 11:15 pm
This Deer hunting poem was in today's (fridays) Appleton Post Crescent....Tomorrow (Saturday) is the first day of Gun Hunting Season.
Twas the night before huntin'
and all through the shack,
all da guys were card playing,
except for ol' Mac.
The snowsuits were hung
on the front porch with care,
'cause da way that they smelled,
they needed some air.
Ol' Mac waas just nestled,
still snoring in bed,
while visions of 12-pointers
danced in his head.
And Bubba had brandy,
and I had some Jack.
We had just pickled our brains
with a little night-cap.
When out near the outhouse
there arose such a clatter,
I jumped up and said,
"Hey Earl, what's da matter?"
Away to the window
Earl flew with a flash,
and tore open his britches
on a pile of ol' trash.
Now da moon hung out
of his long johns below.
And that image still haunts
me to this day, ya know.
But what to Earls, tired
ol' eyes should appear,
but a whole heed of whitetail
(ya know, dem der deer).
Earl started to shiver,
and said, "Look here, quick!"
I thought for a moment
that he just might be sick.
Da guys didn't notice
and kept playing their game.
But he whistled and shouted
and called us by name;
Now Bubba!... Now Jimbo!...
Now Smitty and Darren!...
And Mac, and me...
we just stood there, a-starin'.
And from the top of the hill,
the deer laughed at us all,
Then dashed away, dashed away,
dashed away all!
Then I heard Earl exclaim
as they ran out of sight,
"If we'd remembered our guns,
we could go home tonight!"
Twas the night before huntin'
and all through the shack,
all da guys were card playing,
except for ol' Mac.
The snowsuits were hung
on the front porch with care,
'cause da way that they smelled,
they needed some air.
Ol' Mac waas just nestled,
still snoring in bed,
while visions of 12-pointers
danced in his head.
And Bubba had brandy,
and I had some Jack.
We had just pickled our brains
with a little night-cap.
When out near the outhouse
there arose such a clatter,
I jumped up and said,
"Hey Earl, what's da matter?"
Away to the window
Earl flew with a flash,
and tore open his britches
on a pile of ol' trash.
Now da moon hung out
of his long johns below.
And that image still haunts
me to this day, ya know.
But what to Earls, tired
ol' eyes should appear,
but a whole heed of whitetail
(ya know, dem der deer).
Earl started to shiver,
and said, "Look here, quick!"
I thought for a moment
that he just might be sick.
Da guys didn't notice
and kept playing their game.
But he whistled and shouted
and called us by name;
Now Bubba!... Now Jimbo!...
Now Smitty and Darren!...
And Mac, and me...
we just stood there, a-starin'.
And from the top of the hill,
the deer laughed at us all,
Then dashed away, dashed away,
dashed away all!
Then I heard Earl exclaim
as they ran out of sight,
"If we'd remembered our guns,
we could go home tonight!"
