Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire A delicate topic, "baboon ass"

Whatever do you mean, I Angelic compared the you buddy. Ask anyone here.

Whatever do you mean, I Angelic compared the you buddy. Ask anyone here.

My Dad, God bless him, my brother, and I were pheasant hunting in Kansas years ago. We stayed and received royal treatment at the home of one of Dad's submarine pards and his wife, Sam and Erma.

Sam and Erma had spent 10-years in Africa after the war, so the day before we left Erma whipped up some "African curry". I can't vouch for the authenticity of the meal, but I can vouch for Dad bragging that he crapped in four states on the way home the next day.

One of our pit stops in Missouri was a tiny gas station. Dad stayed in the truck at first while brother and I gassed up and stretched our legs. We also got to listen to an old gal complain about her doddering husband and how he had just ruined his new jacket. It seems he had suddenly become ablaze while burning the garden...

Anyhoo, Dad followed us into the gas station, and after rummaging through the meager inventory, produces the largest tub of vaseline known to man. I couldn't believe it - the tiny station had a few packs of smokes, a few scattered candy bars, and a huge tub of vaseline. Dad thunks the vaseline down on the counter, pays for it, and asks the young lady clerk where the bathroom is. The clerk points to a curtain about 3-feet away. Dad tucks the tub under his arm like a football and ducks through the curtain...

Brother and I paid for the gas and hustled through the exit, but not before we heard a P51 Mustang fire up its engine behind that curtain. The clerk just put her hands over her face and muttered, "Oh, my...".

After we all loaded into the truck and started down the road Dad broke the silence saying, "Well, only two states left to go."

no, sorry. You are right again, but I know what works for me. I'll pass on reading 60 pages on a case of monkey ass.

...but I can vouch for Dad bragging that he crapped in four states on the way home the next day.

read it putz....it will do you good! dang stuffed shirts anyway....shaking head

It's appropriate that this thread comes to life once again, and provide a forum for another delicate issue I've been pondering...

A month or so ago I crunched a disk in my neck - I stepped in a hole pheasant hunting. I'm on the mend, but those that have BTDT will attest to the flaming nerve shooters down the arm and hand are less than fun. Having my shoulder hang a certain way was the biggest offender, and regrettably, my shoulder would hang in precisely that fashion whilst perched on a toilet seat.

Short of crapping my pants, hovering was the only option.

Hovering isn't as easy as it sounds. A certain appendage served admirably as a makeshift bomb sight, but if the bathroom was cold in the morning the triangulation would change and all bets were off. However, I have become quite skilled at the maneuver and I like my chances if any competition or Olympic event garner any interest. I check ESPN and the like once in a while, but so far no cookie.

So despite my improving condition, my question to the forum is whether or not I should continue practicing? I might even increase the challenge by hauling a ladder into the bathroom. It would seem a shame to let such an acquired skill fade.