Folks
who like to fish and hunt aren’t always out on the water or at their deer lease.
Sometimes they’re just sitting around camp telling jokes about hunting or fishing. For
instance, a game warden out looking for poachers walked up on a man with a rifle
and remarked that it sure looked like he had picked a good place to hunt.
“Yep,”
the man agreed, “I killed a 10-point buck here yesterday.”
Unfortunately,
it wasn’t deer season.
“Do you know who I am?” the warden asked.
The
man said he did not.
“I’m a state game warden,” the officer said.
“Do you know who I am?” the citizen asked.
The warden did not.
’Well,
sir, I’m the biggest liar in Llano County.”
A
guy shows up and asks around town about the best place to fish and who the most
knowledable local fisherman is. No one suggests a place, but he gets a name and
goes to see the man. The man is quite gracious and offers to take his visitor
to his favorite fishing hole the next day.
On a nice lake the following
day, the local expert reaches into his tackle box, pulls out a stick of dynamite,
lights it and tosses it into the water. A big explosion rocks the boat and dozens
of crappie, bass and catfish float to the surface.
As soon as he recovers
from his shock, the visitor launches into a long riff on the importance of game
conservation and fair play. The fisherman listens for a while, then reaches into
his tackle box, pulls out another stick of dynamite, lights it and hands it to
the indignant visiting sportsman.
“Do you want to talk or fish?” the man
asks.
An
optimist and pessimist are out duck hunting. The optimist, who owns the bird dog,
knocks down a mallard. The dog immediately climbs out of the boat, walks across
the water, picks up the duck, walks back to the boat and climbs back in. Soon
another mallard sails low and the optimist nails it with equal facility. Again,
the dog climbs out of the boat and retrieves the duck. After a while, the optimist
asks the pessimist if he had noticed anything unusual about his bird dog.
“Yeah,” the pessimist replies, “your dumb dog can’t swim!”
Two
men are out dove hunting. Two birds approach and before the one man can shoot,
both birds fall dead to the ground.
“Is there somebody else on this lease?”
asked the hunter who had been about to shoot.
“No, just us.”
“Then
what happened to those birds.”
“I don’t know.”
Pretty soon two
more birds approached.
Again, the men raised their shotguns only to see
the birds tumble from the air in mid-flight before they could fire. Seeing
a movement in a clump of brush, they go to investigate. Behind it sits a farmer,
the ugliest man any of them had ever seen.
Before they can say anything,
two more birds approach. As they watch, the farmer looks up and the doves fall
to the ground, stone dead.
The farmer explains it’s a special gift he
has. All he has to do is look at the birds and they drop dead. The men ask if
anyone else in his family can do the same thing.
“Yes,”
he says, “my wife can but she doesn’t.”
Why, they ask. “She
tears the meat up too bad,” he says.
An
old-time East Texas preacher decides
to break a member of his congregation from compulsive lying. He goes to the man’s
house and tells an outlandish story about how a bear broke into his church one
Sunday and walked toward him as he stood at the pulpit. Just before the brute
reached the preacher, he said, a small dog chased in after the bear, nipping at
its hairy heels. In a terrible fight that caused women to faint and men to cower,
the dog not only beat the bear, he ate him.
“Now, do you believe that?”
the preacher asks, convinced his has finally proven to the man the obviousness
– not to mention odiousness -- of a bald-faced lie.
“Sure do,” the prevaricator
replies. “That was my dog.”
A
traveling salesman driving through East
Texas ran over a coon dog. Being a dog lover and decent sort, he went to the
nearby farm house, knocked on the door and told the woman who answered that he’d
accidentally killed their dog.
Shaking her head sadly, she told the man he’d better go tell her husband in person.
“He’s out back in the barn,” she said. “And listen, make it easy on him.
At first, tell him it was one of the kids.”
A
new widow walks into a newspaper office to place an obituary for her late husband.
When she heard it would cost 50 cents a word, she said, “Just print ‘Fred Brown
died.’” To which the newspaper employee replied, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there
is a seven-word minimum.”
The woman thinks for a moment and says, “OK,
just print ‘Fred Brown died. Bass boat for sale.’”
A
father takes son on his first deer hunt.
“Son, this is your first deer
hunt, an ancient and sacred tradition marking your passage into manhood. Do you
have any questions?”
The boy replies: “Yes, if you die of a heart attack,
how do I get home from here?”
© Mike
Cox - May
24, 2012 column
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