Deal or not …

“You can deal with your trauma, in whatever clean or messy way you have, or you can BECOME your trauma. It’s never been easier than that.” – Dr. Freckles

“As a hunter …”

AS A HUNTER …

I can’t believe you “gun” people … your guns and your gun shows and your ammo reloading … fuck …

I’ll tell you what I do:

I strip down to my loin cloth, and hone a spear with my buck knife and my fire …

I cover myself in mule grease, and then sit out all night, whispering to the trees and moss … connecting with my wolf-self …

Then, at the appointed time, I chase down that hairy beast and consume its munkton-flesh while the moon glows, and the sun is nearly broke upon the horizon.

As a hunter …

I reach for the old style techniques, of monitoring poop flows and assessing the dayglo-sauce of deer-snakes and hester-monkeys …

I gave up on soft-style party living, and now my waters run clean from the mountainside to the prairie hovel … where my hooker bride waits, and my 12 kids hunt possum for dinner.

We wear barley armor and provide LIGHT in the dark woods …

We are true HUNTERS, looking for adventure. Sure, we take it easy when doing “Kentucky Style Love Making” on a Saturday night … but our hearts beat strong for those bong-doodles, and our women wear thongs while singing that song about twerking …

We hunt the grease, we feed on the meat barnacles.

We are hunters.