Twas the last day of buck season, and all through my house, my lower lip was sagging like Hillarys' blouse. Most of the guys had their bucks, but just my damn luck, I'd just been ripped in the groin, but oh what the f---. I grabbed my peashooter and blew out the door with blood in my eyes like a Kennedy *****. I drove to a place that I keep all my own, logged long ago, now brush overgrown. I got out of the truck and skirted the gate; walked a mile in the fresh air-ain't this feeling great? When out of the brush came a familiar sight; that tail was flashing like a bright candle light. He quartered and darted into a stand of trees; I'll see you on the other side please. His curiosity of me he couldn't contain, and when I took out his lungs, then started the pain. I dressed him and roped him to an old plywood door, and dragged him and me 'til I re-wrote the word "sore".
Now a week later, with meat on the hook, I went for a surgery followup feeling like a crook. I lied through my teeth when I said I'd been good; I guess boys'll be boys when they get in the woods. Happy hunting

 

That's pretty inventive, you write it yourself?

 

Yep, in about 5 minutes. I love wordplay. ( almost as much as foreplay ).
I'd write one 4-U, but I'd better not.

 

That's pretty damn good.