Redefining misanthropy for a fresh generation. Standard posts begin with a definition from Ambrose Bierce's The Devil's Dictionary followed by a modern adjustment. Miscellany on Wednesday and storytelling on Saturday.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
DEER, n. The patter of a jackass rabbit in the chaparral, as heard by a city sportsman.
2008 Update: A harbinger of future redemption in a suburban garden.
I always think of the Simpsons
Marge: "A deer"
Lisa: "A female deer"
I'm so easily amused.
1. A miraculous creature spontaneously generated by headlights.
2. A hunting partner for Dick Cheney.
With blueberry, mmm...
Do you know the Abbott and Costello routine:
Abbott: Do you hunt deer?
Costello: No I don't, sweetheart.
3. An essential tool on the punster's Swiss Army knife. Hey Abbott ... ;)
I LOVE Bambi!!!
I also love Bambi's sidekicks, Thumper and Flower.
Courtney and I found a newborn baby deer once when we were walking in Valley Forge. It was tiny, tiny, tiny, and we did not touch it for fear that its mother would abandon it. We never saw its mother, so we alerted a park ranger just in case the baby was abandoned.
That baby deer would have made even a curmudgeon like you oooh and awwww.
A hunting season.
Some schools in these parts are closed on the first day of doe season and also the first day of buck season.
word verifier: easyno. I say easy yes. Too easy to even play with.
Deer, oh deer. I'd like a drink, please.
Yes, Weirsdo. Before and after.
Jenn, easiness is one of your sparkling virtues.
Applause, Amoeba. Both tremendous.
Applesauce, too, Ariel. Venison is the other pork.
G, bless them.
Phillips head, Amoeba?
JD, back when I was a cowboy I one time rode up a side canyon and, reaching the top, found myself between a surprised doe and a startled fawn. The fawn acted like I had headlights and just stared until I could reach out and slap his rear-end. Then he ran off with Momma.
That's civilized, TLP. We didn't have a doe season in California when I was paying attention. We might now.
Actonbell, here are the rest with the usual caveat about stuff you find online. I remembered your part and that it's the Kansas state song. Ironic for the land of feedlots.
Jim, you can lead a deer to water...
Awwwww, I love your deer story.
It's very dear.
there's one about 5 feet outside my window as I type this.
no. sorry. wrong.
there are three. eating the spoiled apples I put out there for them to enjoy without fear of my 30 ought.
I love that story, too. You were lucky.
The ones for whom I lay my garden banquet.
Doug you say the sweetest things to me!
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