Neanderpundit

haven’t posted hardly anything political lately, which kind of belies the -pundit thing, but it’s because I’ve developed a state of such utter disgust for the whole process I’m much more inclined to take a cluebat and start thwacking people for their ignorance than write about it. The RCOB moments come hot and heavy everytime I listen to or read commentary about the current crop of socialists. If you hear about a rash of contusions amidst the socialati, that would probably be me. Meanwhile I’ll try to confine myself to the zen of hunting. Think cool thughts, keep the crosshairs level.

and the customer says ‘hey, let’s all go to that new mexican place, gusto del infierno!

you know it’s going to be a long night.

as I trudged afield in search of cervids, I saw a guy out hunting rabbits. His dogs, beagles the size of Max, were all dressed in orange safety suits. He let them off the leash, and they went apeshit.

I do love that sound. I swear to god, you can kick a beagle, hit him in the head with a tire iron, yank his tail, cut off his floppy big ears with pinking shears- as long as he can hunt, he’s in heaven. I can barely wait till Max is calm enough to hunt.