Op-Ed by Rocky from the Insane Asylum

‘Tis the time of year for all the welfare recipients to venture into the woods for two weeks of shooting rifles at moving objects, occasionally hitting a deer. The fast food joints open at 4:00 AM so that the hunters can increase their odds of suffering a heart attack climbing that first big hill. After one day of deer season it is comforting to report that, while several deer have been killed, this has been balanced by one local shooting and two hunter falls from tree stands.

I like the terminology that the hunters (and Ted Nugent) use, such as, “Harvesting” instead of killing, “Rack” instead of antlers, etc. It doesn’t seem like a fair fight to me. A deer, scared shitless by all the people wandering around the forests, and a guy with a gun, scope and a tree stand. But, the fact that most of the hunters have spent the last 350 days of the year in their recliners, watching WWF, and either eating pepperoni rolls or spitting tobacco into tin cans, the deer have a chance.

There’s a nurse that works here at the psych hospital who was discussing hunting the other day in the security office. She says, “Yeah, I’ve got all the stuff. An ammo case, a night scope, a hot nipple…..” She tried to explain that this was something used to ignite gunpowder in a muzzleloader. Yeah, right. In an attempt to show her feminine side, she said, “I can’t stand when I’m gutting a doe, and I hit the milk sack. That’s just such a shame.” Her grief of leaving some six month old deer to fend for itself was heartwarming.

I usually hate doing my usual 125 mile commute to and from work, but even more so during deer hunting season as the danger of a deer running across the highway increases tremendously. But this year it has been different. Oh sure, I still see the occasional deer running across the road, and many more pasted on the pavement. Actually, since WV passed the Road Kill law a couple of years ago, allowing people to take road kill home to eat, there isn’t as much carci as in prior years. But this year it is not the deer I’ve had to dodge. No. No. It’s CATS. For some reason, the cats are running all over the fucking place. It’s as if the deer have convinced the cats that it is cat hunting season, and the cats are terrified that someone is going to shoot them and cut off their milk sacs.

Read other heart-tugging Op-Ed's from Rocky!

Ninny Heaven
My State Job

And tell him what you think.