Fucking People Make It Complicated

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The first question I fucking have is why do fucking people make it complicated? It’s easy to not fuck up the food you cook, it’s easy as hell if you just pay fucking attention. Y’all know I spend a great deal of time reading other people’s blogs. Y’all know I usually don’t fucking comment because people have said I drop too many fucking f-bombs. Probably some truth in there some where I’m sure. I visit a few handfuls of what I will call cooking lifestyle blogs, they range from gourmet to trashcan grilling and most things in between. I noticed a fucking trend I really don’t fucking like, across the board, but I saved my bitching and moaning for my own fucking blog because, well, that’s how I fucking am. If y’all have taken the time to read my last post you’ll see I demonstrated the right way to pan sear a fucking steak, but it goes deeper than that, much much deeper. I had read a few posts about doing a fucking gourmet pan seared steak. I must ask, what in the fuck are you people trying to do to me? Putting all this bullshit on your meat and you’ll never fucking taste the meat, just your bullshit. So, I got to thinking, eventhough I can be considered nothing more than an average cook who learned to cook by standing next to real humans, I still know that one needs practice. Food is judged by it’s fucking taste morons, even if it looks like a pile of shit, if it tastes good I’m going to eat it. But it seems like everyone is in some kind of fucking cooking competition, got to Tweet that shit, got to Pin that shit, and even Share that shit. Looks can be very deceiving, anyone can polish a turd for a fucking picture, but will you eat it?

Okay, I’ll agree there are many fantastic cooks out in the world, and your food is making people fat and happy. But, who are these motherfuckers who watch the cable food channels and surf the internet who all of a sudden are culinary experts? Y’all know who I’m talking about, we all have them in our families and lives, hell I’m probably pissing one of them off right now. With two big cooking holidays coming up fast we all know there are those people’s food we won’t fucking touch because it fucking sucks. Why? Because they can’t cook that’s why! Oh, but they try, right? Wrong! Copying something from Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook, or wherever the fuck else does NOT make you a fucking cook, really it doesn’t. But does this stop them from posting on their blogs? No. Does this stop them from inflicting their unimaginable culinary disasters on friends and family? No. If you can’t cook just own the shit out of that, you can never fake fucking steak, never.

So, what am I doing here? I’m trying to tug at your heart strings in hopes that one day soon we will be rid of the wannabe cooks. I pride myself self on the fact that I cook what I know how to cook, I grill in a way that food is edible, and I smoke meats in ways that will make you want to dry hump my leg with excitement. However, I’m a down home simple ingredients kind of cook. I do NOT bury the flavor of what I’m cooking in other bullshit, I’m simple in my methods. I have taught an ex-wife to cook, my wife to cook (in different ways, she’s a bad ass cook already), and all three of my kids to cook. Why? Because if we’re going to eat we might as well fucking enjoy the way it tastes. Right or wrong? But, my soon to be married 19 year old daughter has been exploring the cooking shows and scouring the internet for recipes to try. She can’t figure out why she doesn’t like the way the food tastes. My answer? You need to fucking practice, practice allot, make changes, own that shit until you can do it blindfolded, without the recipe card, and where it comes out delicious every single time. Me, I don’t have any recipes written down anywhere, but I do try to accurately share proportions when prompted, but I doubt it’s ever exact. An example, search my blog for details, I make what I call Diablo Scorpion Chili on a regular basis because my wife, her friends at work, and family can’t ever get enough of this high heat colon cleansing chili. It has been made the same way since I dreamed that shit up some 25 years ago to enter into a chili cook off. Not to brag, but best in heat, best in flavor, and best appearance tells me it might be good, don’t change a fucking thing.

But I do more, I even share with pictures here on occasion, people actually write to me thanking me because it all tasted as described. Why? Because I don’t do all the bullshit, basic is the best flavoring. Anyway, my question still remains, why do people try to “fake it” on the internet? People try their recipes I’m sure, as I have, and most times I’m not impressed. I’m no expert when it comes to cooking, but I don’t get complaints either. My fucking wish I have for people learning to cook or wanting to learn something new is to spend time with other humans, whether it is family or friends, and be shown in person how to make a recipe work. Let’s face it, if it looks pretty but tastes like shit then you have failed. My family knows I don’t mind eating the ugly mistakes if they taste great. Our daily food consumption should be eating simple meals, inexpensive meals, and meals we want to eat. I like to try new things too, but some science experiments are best left to the experts and that for fucking sure is not me. So the next time you get a wild hair up your ass, try making something new, posting it online, just make sure it fucking tastes awesome. If not, its pretty hard to fuck up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, just keep that in mind. I hope we all learned something today, if so there is hope for us humans, if not we’re all fucking doomed.

Being Politically Incorrect: Now Fuck Off

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Where in the fuck do the politically correct morality police get off being my mother? Why in the fuck have they chose to subject me to hundreds of e-mails a week and hundreds of spam comments a week? Who the fuck do these people think they are? What in the fuck do they think they can change about my blog? When in the fuck did I become a fucking interest to the fucking politically correct morality police? F.Y.I., y’all will fucking find the morality police is only one of the many names used to describe the fucked up groups of people whose self-appointed job is to enforce standards of moral behavior and religious adherence among the general public, these bleeding pussies are here to protect us from the real world. Have these fucking freaks of nature been having a spell of moral panic? Is their moral panic over an issue deemed to be a fucking threat to, or shocking to, the sensibilities of “proper” society? How about y’all just have a very tall glass of shut the fuck up for a minute.

If you haven’t fingered it out yet, this is my politically incorrect declaration about the morality police fuctards who feel it is their god given right to bombard the Sting Of The Scorpion Blog with all of the bullshit that they disagree with that I say or I post here. So, let me start off with a big GO FUCK YOURSELF to get this kicked off. What does what I write about have to do with anything in the fucking lonely lives of the morality police? I know what I fucking post and I sleep fucking great at night. In some way I have touched these little bitches  in a special way, like how a girl gets finger fucked for the very first time. I guess because they like the way I touch them that they need to bitch at me like my ex-wife who is, to date, at the very top of my “cunt list”, but these fuctards are a very close second. So I say the word, and many variations, FUCK, does that make me a bad person? I post pictures of women with tattoos and women packing heat because those are things I really fucking like. I regularly talk about how fucked up the VA is because I’m a disabled vet who is a part of that fucking broke system.  Does the fact that I was a bartender at a full nude strip bar (and liked it) a problem because I write about it or because it is an industry that exemplifies gratuitous nudity in exchange for money? It is a historical fact for those followers of the bible that “Jesus Loves Strippers” but that is something that the morality police like to forget.

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Somewhere, somehow, the morality police opened their doors to the anti-meat-anti-hunting-geniuses because they keep trying to tell me hunting to provide meat for my table is wrong. Wrong? It’s wrong? I do not, I have not, and I will not ever condemn a meat free lifestyle if that is the choice you have made. I may not understand your decision and I might joke about your choices, but your choices are yours to make. I would like to think if you want to be left the fuck alone about not eating meat that you should close your fucking piehole about my choice to stalk the meat, kill the meat, smoke the meat, and then eat the meat with my family. Y’all really need to back off this one because it isn’t ever going to fucking change, ever. Never once, however, do these fucktards ever get real specific about what rubbed their pussies the wrong way. Perhaps that is the problem, perhaps it is because of their own experiences that they must warn me that I am on the highway to hell with what I write about. Well, you stupid fucks, I write about what is in my life, around me, or the fucking things I like or dislike. Some of those things are fucked up, some of those things are the fucktards who get so pissed off at me for talking about their beliefs and how they live their life.

I think if I was a bleeding cunt that maybe I would hold that against the rest of the world as well. Is it because you suffer that you want to make others suffer? I was told once by my dad when I was younger to never trust something that can bleed for a week and live. He also warned me of the hypnotic spell the women will put men under, he called this the power of the pussy. He tried to warn me that she with the pussy is who is in charge. It’s true, for the most part, that because you have a pussy you think that all must bow to you, begging your little twat for forgiveness because we were born with a dick. All of the haters I have all have referenced that they are female, not one male has ever emailed me or spammed my blog in anger because of my topics or language. Why do you little bitches think that is? Need a bandaid? Perhaps you are angry with me because I write about your fucked up ways and your fucked up thinking, perhaps when you whip out your grammar Nazi handbook you should show me the part where it says that The sting Of The Scorpion Blog is supposed to give a fuck about spelling or proper sentence fragmentation. Fuck you, I’m not 6. Speaking of which, no, no I don’t think I will ever write with the maturity my age states I should have. I think it is just plain time for you politically correct bleeding pussies to just turn the internet off, turn your computer off, unplug the smart car, and go for a walk. Get outside into the real world with real people. Do keep your hole closed because if you act out in public as you do on the internet you might just not like the reaction you get.

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Where do we go from here? It’s true, I don’t give a fuck about your feelings about what you may find at The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. Why should I fucking give a shit and really fucking care? Come here if you want, don’t come if you don’t want, either way it doesn’t make a fuck to me because this blog doesn’t pay my fucking bills. In fact, it’s totally free. It’s free hosted, I don’t charge admission, I don’t ask for donations, and I don’t try to sell you stupid shit you don’t want. I do this shit for fun, I do what I do here for my personal entertainment, I write about the things I see or hear because it is fucking fun to do so. What’s even better that somewhere along the way I get to rub some of y’all  pussiy fucktards the wrong way on a very regular basis. Except, nowadays I think we are past the heavy petting, we are past trying to shove three of my fingers thru your granny panties, we are past you not wanting to be touched “there”, no, I think we are to the point where I expose what has really been going on here, because not everyone gets to see you as I do. I know I told you that I wouldn’t tell everyone what a fucking little whore slut you really are. I know you wanted me to be discrete about your little secret of only letting all the guys ass fuck you so you can tell your future husband you truly are a vaginal virgin. Yes, your fucked up little secret is out now, boothefuckhoo. It is also pretty fucking obvious that you suck the cum out right out of that dick after they all pull it out of your ass because all you do is talk shit. So, shove a plug in your gaping asshole because you are dripping anal ooze all over my fucking blog.

Now, get the fuck out. Let the door hit you square in the ass. Don’t stop, don’t look back. All you will see is me bending over blowing you a big fat fucking kiss. I know y’all aren’t capable of listening, that fucking point gets proven time and time again. I get it, you fucking despise and hate me. I know y’all are too fucking stupid to listen. I know y’all will be back, y’all always fucking come back for some reason. Well, just remember I may not appreciate the fact that you suck in all of my fucking oxygen but since you always arrive with your panties pulled so deep into your bleeding cunts, I give y’all a break, because I like freaks, I even like you. So, polish up your badge bitches so you can continue to spread the your fucking legs and let out all of the things that are so wonderful about the fucking morality police. Until the next time we meet please feel free to fucking piss off.

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Top 10 Searches & Inquiries

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Normally, I do top 10 lists for a variety of other things. Today, however, I look within The Sting Of The Scorpion for the top 10 searches and inquiries on this blog as provided statistically by WordPress for my viewing pleasure. I will roll this list in reverse order ending with the number one searched topic/subject/word for this month so far.

  • 10) Hunting (@49)
  • 09) Fucktard and Religion were tied (@51)
  • 08) Government (@52)
  • 07) Why and WTF were tied (@66)
  • 06) United States Air Force (@68)
  • 05) Stripper and Strip were tied (@85)
  • 04) Nude Bar (@101)
  • 03) The Sting Of The Scorpion (@173)
  • 02) Smoking and Grilling were tied (@189)
  • 01) Pussy (@246)

I wonder what these search statistics are telling me. I wonder what I am supposed to do with this information. How should this data be interpreted? Just remember that these are the top ten out of over 4300 tags and 18 different categories. I have a rather large tag cloud and these are the things that stand out to people? Off the top of my head I would say I write about pussy way too much or people are just looking for pussy that much. So, there you have it, my top 10 searched terms here @ The Sting Of The Scorpion. It will be interesting to see what it is next month.

The Annual Neighborhood Yard Sale

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No matter what I get involved in it always seems that I get asked to drag my smoker out and do what I do best. Some people cook, some people grill, but only the best can smoke. For those of y’all new to The Sting Of The Scorpion all I can do is recommend that your do a category search for “Smoking” and catch up. For everyone else this in just another day in my life. I’m not sure if I have ever posted pictures of the “other woman” (as it is called by my wife) so here she is. I have more smokers but this one is my oldest and my favorite. I built this trailer smoker back when I was in high school in the year 1985 based on a smaller project I had completed in shop class earlier that year. My smoker was built-in my parents garage using leftover metal from other projects. The trailer was bought at a yard sale and then modified and beefed up to make sure it was up to the task at hand. Since its conception and completion this smoker has been in my family ever since. When I joined the United States Air Force in 1988 I made sure this smoker went with me all over the planet, wherever I went, she went. Anyway, back to the present.

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This past weekend was the annual neighborhood yard sale. Around 200 houses and businesses participate and it is generally a real big deal for this community. My baby sister happens to live here in this small country town southwest of Houston and they participate year after year because she invites all of the family and in-laws to participate. I always have two specific jobs, I smoke and I play cashier. This year was a little different because I actually brought some big things to sell like a leather living room set, dining room table with 8 chairs and three 2 foot leafs, two different Arachnid (brand) electronic dart boards that I had restored (circa 1982), an adult go-cart, washer & dryer, and an ass-load of clothes. When I pulled up at 5am with my trailer-load and smoker in tandem tow I was greeted by my parents, my sister, and some early morning “shoppers”. In the end, the only thing that made it to be sold in the yard sale was the clothes. I had made $8800.00 before it ever began. I unloaded the trailer onto 4 different pick-up trucks and I was basically done. I wasn’t expecting it to be that easy, but it was, and it made the rest of the day a breeze for me. Over all, selling 90% of the clothes brought in another $413.50 making my grand total for the day $9213.50 which wasn’t too shabby in my book. I got a whole lot more money like this than I would have seen using Craigslist. So, I had a great day. The rest of the clothes were given to my mother to donate to their local Goodwill.

I would like to discuss the people who came here to buy “other people’s junk” because the range at the yard sale was better than I could ever find at the mall. There are three types of people I saw that really stood out. There were the “lookers and fondlers” that basically had to see everything, did through everything, yet bought nothing. Then there were the “hagglers” who wanted to get a better deal than the best deal offered. These are my favorite because they have the most money to spend and they are trying to get as many deals as they can for their buck. Luckily, for me personally, I only had to drop off my price for one item which was the adult go-cart, I was asking $3500.00 since I paid $3500.00 for it. It was ran hard and I know it, but it was clean and well maintained, we settled on $3400.00 and the old man thought he got a bargain on the 5-year-old cart. I guess it is time to go buy me more toys for Christmas. The last group was the “in a hurry” people because they move at high speeds hoping one won’t see something or something will get missed. Are they scamming, probably not, but if something was overlooked they wouldn’t say anything in my opinion. But, they never haggle, just pay how much they owe, which is super easy for me. When I price something I always go high with it because I know people will want to work the price down, which is the game we play, but everything has a bottom dollar they won’t budge from.

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Pictured above was load number two of the meat that was smoked, ribs, brisket, and sausage. Earlier I had smoked 80 sausage links and sold them for $3.00 a piece as sausage on a sticks. Since the meat was provided (donated) by my sister’s father in law, he wanted all proceeds to go to the “kitty” and divided up between the 6 families that were there, so we all got an extra $40.00 to boot plus I basically snacked on whatever I wanted all day long so I didn’t go hungry. In the end it was a good day, I went home with an empty trailer, a pocket full of cold hard cash, and a full belly. Anyway, that was my Saturday what did yours look like.

On This Day In 1968……….

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…………… there was a baby boy born to a mother who would never see him, never hold him, and never be a part of his life. It was on this day that this baby boy was giving the chance to live a life. It was on this day that a boy took in his first breath and was given the beginning of the rest of his life. I am thankful everyday for that first breath I was granted the opportunity to take. Look at it like this, she could have swallowed, he could have pulled out, or she could have aborted her pregnancy at any time. Luckily, she chose the adoption option and soon after the world was granted the opportunity to witness my presence. You see, we are all equally lucky. So, enough of the heavy shit everyone has heard before. I am here because she made the right choice back in 1968.

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I will be the first person to admit that I’m the person y’all hear about that is so hard to buy birthday presents for. Why? Simply because I don’t ask for anything, ever. Why? Because if I want something I save up for it and go buy it. Generally it isn’t for my self tho, it’s usually for other people. I don’t buy my self much. When I ask for something it is utilitarian, like underwear, socks, and stuff like that. After having the same cell phone for 4 years I finally upgraded and replaced it will a fancy new one. I did this a week or so ago, my own birthday present to myself and I said it just like that. I told my wife and kids that I would buy my own present this year so don’t bother. You know women tho, they rarely listen when the man is talking….. lol.

Somewhere during the course of the last year I mentioned two things “in passing”, meaning it was random and out of the blue, which were that I wanted to pick up the new KISS Monster cd, yes I wrote cd, I like cds. The other thing was a tablet because my laptop crapped out and I don’t want to spend the money to get another one, so a tablet seemed reasonable. But, like life itself, other expenses always come first because the cost of “living” is sometimes more than I bring home. So, as mentioned, they were fleeting comments not really meant to be taken as a hint or anything. But, my wife and kids took note, because like I said, I don’t generally ask for stuff, I just get it when I want it. In the end I was happily surprised and really glad they were paying attention because I had completely forgot about both of them.

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Unfortunately I’m working today (right now to be exact) but I will be heading home later tonight and that will be perfect. I will be cooking my own dinner, grilling actually, since when asked what I wanted I wanted steaks. So, my mother-out-law provided me with steaks, potatoes, and some tequila for me to use tonight. The tequila will be for margaritas by the way. After we eat I plan on soaking my bones in the hot tub, rain or no rain, matters not to me, I like to relax and soak my bones. Today I work (or do this) and when I get off the party will just get kicked off. Hell, what am I saying, I live like it’s my birthday everyday. My kids tell me it is a special day to celebrate. I always reply that I celebrate the start of every day with that first recognizable breath, it’s a beautiful day each time I wake up. I won’t deny I’m lucky to be here, but aren’t we all.

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What Has The World Come To?

Those of y’all know me know that I grill food and smoke food on a regular basis. I take pride in the fact that over the years I have become quite good at it. That’s nog bragging, it’s just the facts based on everyone always comes back for seconds, thirds, or forths and are very disappointed when they find out I will not be cooking. I have a way with meat, it’s an art, even better one might even call it a gift. I have spent the better part of my life perfecting cooking meat on a grill or smoker, I have allot of time and money invested into something I love to do. Which, in the end, is why I generally don’t mind cooking the meat(s) for family get togethers, when we camp, when friends get together, or even at work when we have company parties two or three times a year. What can I say, I trust me when it comes to the preparation, cooking, and final consumption of the meat. Call it vain, call it conceded, one might even consider me kinda anal, but there is a right way to grill or smoke and then there is the wrong way. I pride myself on the simple fact that I have never received a complaint and I always get asked to come back to do it again. But, enough about me. I just thought a little background was in hand before I went on to explain that I was in charge of the grilling this past Saturday for one of my nieces 4th birthday. How could I ever say no to that?
 
After I got my charcoal going, let it burn down, and adding my wood chunks soaked in a secret blend of concontion, I was ready to let it rip. My wife brought me the platters of meat, yes platters, we were feeding some 25 adults and just as many kids, we were going to have a little bit of everything. We had 100% all beef hamburgers, 100% all beef hot dogs, bonless pork chops (thick cut), some of my home made venison sausage, of course we had some gator tail, and some venison flanks I had left over. Yes, it was going to be a small feast. I began laying out my spread of meat, adding a light dust of seasoning, closed the lid and listened to the meat sizzle. Meanwhile, I had to assist in putting up an air inflatable jump castle that the kids (and adults) were begging me to get up so they could all jump and play. I must say that this jump casle was the absolute best $300.00 investment I have ever picked up at a garage sale. Y’all might not understand, it’s a 20 ft x 20 ft jump castle, it’s huge and loads of fun for all ages. When I got done my wife was walking up to me holding the box I have pictured above and wanted me to slap it on the grill when I got a chance. WTF? Who in the hell brings veggie burgers to a meatfeast? I honestly think I broke out in cold sweats for fear that someone was going to see me sneak one of these veggie burgers onto a grill loaded with all of this fine meat. I wanted to cry. I was ashamed of myself that I was actually considering complying with this wacko request. Yes, I was a little emotional, my feelings were actually hurt I think. I couldn’t believe I was about to open my grill and insult all the other meats.
 
Needless to say, I opened the box, I opened the sealed plastic bag, and removed one perfectly formed 2.5 oz oddly colored patty. Now, I know this is supposed to mimic the look of a hamburger patty, but damn, it didn’t even look like meat or anything I would ever put in my mouth, and trust me when I say I have tried many strange things to eat from all over the world. Then, I made a hole on the grill and slapped it down. It didn’t even sizzle! It never sizzed! I am thinking the world has finally come to the absolute end and my grill will never be the same. I feel a power washing coming on in the near future. I have had this particular grill for 25 years and I have never threatened it with the power washer ever before, I should be ashamed of myself I know. I let it “cook” to the desired temperature as it stated on the box, 160 F. To top it all off I was even asked to put this special cheese on it. I know I shouldn’t have been shocked, but there was nothing cheese related about this sad slice of cheese. I know, I shouldn’t bitch about these things, and I am almost done. Amazingly enough, it was all placed on a breadless bun, go figure. The rest of my meat was done at about the same time so I pulled it all off and put that on big platters as well. I took it inside and all the wolves came at me for the first sight of this mega meatfeast. What can I say, I aim to please, and everyone was pleased.
 
One final note. I’m not knocking the vegan lifestyle. It’s just not my style. I respect a person that can change from being a born carnivore into a reborn vegan. Again, I like meat way to much to even attempt to notice the notion that there is meat alternitives out there. I refuse to admit that people are happy not eating meat. Call me wrong, call me bad names, whatever, but y’all will never convince me that I can get the taste of a bloody steak from something artificial. And, no, I am not willing to let you attempt to prove me wrong either. To each his own or “a chacun le sien” as my high school French teacher used to tell me. I have spoke to many family members, people I have worked with, and friends who have given up meat and dairy in my interest to find out more about that lifestyle. I can’t say I am willing to make the change. Why, you ask? It’s just not something I am remotely interested in attempting. I meant what I said, if people wish to live this lifestyle I have no problem and I won’t jusdge, just don’t ask me to ever grill it for you. The thought of that still gives me goose bumps up and down my spine. In the end everything works out I suppose, everyone goes home happy, and I will still look forward to my next time in front of the grill, I can hear the meat sizzling already.

Thumper, Bambi, Porky, and Rocky

Originally Published To: Hate Mail on 23 March 2013

I find it amazing that people live such sheltered lives. I find it amazing that those people living in their sheltered lives that they feel they must condemn the things which they know nothing about. I’m not going to lie to you, I knew when I started posting about stalking animals, killing animals, skinning animals, and then cooking those animals, that I was going to get allot of flak for it. After posting “Bacon Wrapped Kicken’ Smoked Rabbit” the flood of e-mails and messages began to pour in. It would appear that I’m a cold hearted bastard for killing and eating Thumper, Bambi, Porky, and Rocky. This made me think, this made me wonder what kind of people read my blog, and this made me wonder why people get so upset with the way I get my groceries. Understandably I know that I live in a place where the “wildlife” is hunted and eventually eaten. I also understand that this isn’t the way everybody lives their life for a million and one reasons. Yes, I pick at the “city folks” because it actually humors me that so many people think meat just appears in their local supermarkets and they have absolutely no idea that the animals that end up in the meat department were breed and slaughtered for profit. But, this seems to be okay with them. What seems to not be okay is when a hunter makes a kill and puts that meat on his table. I have made it no secret that over 90% of the meat consumed in my house was killed by me. Why is this a problem?

From what I gather in the babbling e-mails I get about how inhumane what I do to be is that there is an absolute lack of understanding, education, and individuals that have either been brainwashed too much or individuals who have a closed mind which choose to attack that which they know zero about. Yes, I do find it funny and quite humorous that people want to bitch at me because I am cruel to animals in their eyes. Cruel to animals? I have been hunting since I was seven years old. I was taught to hunt by my dad. I was taught never to kill an animal unless I was going to eat it. Granted, it is a nice thought but doesn’t always happen. I have had to kill snakes, bats, and other nuisance critters that I never ate because I wasn’t hunting them, I was defending something or eliminating the nuisance form places I did not want them. I have been clear over the years that I enjoy using Mother Nature’s pantry to put food on my table. This seems to be a problem because I don’t buy everything we eat at the supermarket. It’s bizarre to me that people take such a stance against me and hunting in general. I will never apologize for being a hunter and eating what I stalk and kill. It just happens to be my way of life. If it is not your way of life so be it. I will continue to write about what I do in my life and that will never change.

Now, if I have just enraged you or just totally pissed you off, good, you deserve to be offended and pissed off. It;s high time that the whiny jack asses realize that they do not run my life or what I write on my blog. I will make anyone out there an across the board deal. You provide me with all the meat I provide my family for an entire year and I will not only not hunt that year, I will also not write about how I cook the meat. Deal? I offered this up a few years ago and all the pussy big mouths decided to go all out and shut their mouths. For those of you who think I am a danger because I teach my family how to hunt and survive in the wilderness you too can piss up a rope. I will not expect my kids to learn everything from the television as many of the pussys who read here must do. There is life outside your living room and beyond your couch. Put down the freakin’ remote, your cell phone, and your lap top and just go outside and see what you are missing. Hunting isn’t for everyone, I know this already, but buying everything at the supermarket or at a restaurant isn’t for everyone either. I expect to keep getting bullshit e-mails and post comments about what a bad person I am. It’s fine, I am good with your silly nonsense and ramblings. As always, the best advice I can give to anyone who is offended with the contents of my blog, is just to move along and don’t read what I have written. Our opinions will always differ since we life differently. I am beginning to believe what my wife has been telling me for years and that is that people will always try to shit on a parade they weren’t invited to. It is all beginning to make sense to me know.