November 5, 1994
Well, you know me, I'm not proud.
The sniper pistol scored the first time out.
With the micro-grunt call, I couldn't buy a pass.
Thank god for the beer, I called him with my ass!
He was just passing through, when I passed gas.
He turned his head and spun, then trotted in fast.
I took him head on, how could he have seen,
he was headed for the bore of a killing machine.
He was flopping like a crappie in the bottom of the boat,
so I plugged him once again, to secure my chance to gloat!
I sat on the stand to contemplate my luck,
I thought of Indians and Cave Men,
and how this would have got them a fuck!
Bringing home the bacon, was sure to get them laid.
But here I am, freezing my ass, and don't even get paid!
I thought about the gutting, there was warmth to be had,
On my way it crossed my mind...Ya, I be bad!
I'm a bad ass mother fucker, and my brag may seem bold,
but he'd be a turdy point buck if he'd a grown so old!
Perhaps the moral may seem to you unclear, just the musings and ramblings of a lone pistoleer!
I speak of fart and fucks and Cavemen, and of a turdy point deer.
But it's the gods honest truth, that it could have happened here!!!