Kicked Kidney, MS> Taking a deer at the famous Christmas Place is a tremendous treat. Bragging and giving the members hell is even better. When someone takes a buck at the club, they are encouraged to tell the tale of how the hunt went and exactly what happened. The stories are always encouraged to begin with THERE I WAS…..I just got back from the club last night. I went down to scout out a place to hunt during the Still Hunting season. But, before I went, people started calling me. Paul called and wanted to know if I had seen his deer. (Did I mention he is pitiful.)Was I going down there? I smirked yes! and he wanted to know who all was going. I answered everybody! He cursed and said he was stuck in Gulfport and couldn’t come. Wanda was griping something about Christmas. He said it was not his fault that the rut and Christmas were at the same time. I listened to him ramble and said “ Oh, by the way, did I tell you about my deer? There I was.....” The phone line clicked dead.
Burney called and said he was stuck at his job at the casino; was I going to camp?
Hell yes! He cursed and said who’s going? "Why, Everybody of course", I replied. Muttered cursing and I said “Hey did I tell you about my big buck, There I was …”
Click. another dead phone line. Mark called and wanted to know the same thing. He was in his postal truck, probably dumping your letters in the Tennessee River. He mumbled something about driving back and forth to Nashville and I asked him if he had heard about my deer. “There I was.....” the cell phone went dead.
At camp, I got ready to go scouting and suddenly a tremendous pain hit the back of my kidney, almost knocking me to the floor. Pain, unbearable pain! I thought I was going to die. I felt like a big 10-point shot in the booty with a muzzle-loader at 12 paces by Paul as I dragged myself to the bathroom to die in peace. My dad said it sounds like a kidney stone. Pain shot through my body and I begged him to get his shotgun and kill me. An hour later, I am in Lexington at the hospital. The stone finally passes and I live. Even got to do my scouting that afternoon. These women complaining about having babies do not understand real pain. Everyone called to see if I was ok. They were so concerned, they kept saying “Tell it again, and start with There I was… writhing in pain.”