The Pitiful 2006 Squirrel Camp

Slim Pickins, MS> Everyone was excited and converged Friday afternoon at the famous Christmas Place Rodent Ranch for the annual Squirrel Hunt. Mark and I arrived early, but were concerned with the quality of the hunters rolling in.


Joe Newman and his son Michael were there along with Sam Goodwin and Baxter Jones. Hershel was puttering in the kitchen and Bobby was already poking the fire and getting Austin to find firewood. A crooked shooting bunch if I ever saw one. Don't worry it gets worse!


A couple of unprepared bowhunters, Burney and Andy Ozbourne (Ozzies' boy), came strolling in as lost as a ghost in a snow storm. Sam Goodwin was talking and hollering to beat the band and his son Thomas just shook his head. To top it off Paul Howell and his son Michael came in just before supper with OUR new Grizzly 660 fourwheeler.


They talked about squirrels, they drank, they talked about shotguns, they talked about different loads and techniques, they drank, they ate supper, they drank, they talked, drank, talked, drank and drank some more.
I could see a disaster looming!
Just before they went to bed, Greg Jones and his son Tyler came in, so they drank some more! I will give them credit, everyone was up and ready to go before daylight.
Off to the woods on a perfect morning! When Mark and I got back from fixing stands
there were no deer, few squirrels and some quiet hunters dressing the game. That afternoon the Rebels also lost to that damn Alabama in overtime. Crikey!

During the game a harbinger of even worse luck showed up in the form of Allen Mcleod and his unlucky son Conner. Allen fit right in with the other losers and seemed to have a great time as Paul fed him lie after lie about his hunting abilities and the Christmas Place. No one had their heart in it that afternoon and only a few more squirrels were taken. It seemed like everyone wanted to just sit around the fire and visit.
That night was better as Squirrel and Dumplings was the main menu. Their was just enough squirrels to feed the lot of them and it was really good. Sweet potatos, Jalepena cornbread, and I don't even know what else filled everyone to bursting levels. Don't forget plenty of liquid refreshments as we moved to the fire and told stories, lies and damn lies.
The next day the whole sorry lot of them staggered off to the woods and did worse than the day before! Tyler earned the nickname Crow Killer with some nifty blasting of these miniature vultures. Sam Goodwin was the Top Squirrel Hunter For 2006. He is the only person crazy enough to hunt the varmints in his bare feet. Here is a picture of the whole group, so you can pick out the guilty parties. We had a great time even though we missed a few of our old friends.
Hope everyone can make the Squirrel Camp For 2007!

Hogses and Deerses and SNAKES, OH MY!

Careful Step, MS> On the famous Christmas Place Hunting Plantation, not only do we have to beware of wild hogs that will skewer and gut you in a minute, we have big racked bucks that think nothing of attacking and ripping a man to shreds with its' antlers. Worst of all, we also have giant rattlesnakes that kill 3 or 4 of our hunters every year. Burney managed to get this slithering serpent before it got him.

2005 Squirrel Camp

Death to Tree Rats!

Squeaky, MS> This is a tree rat. Notice the beady eyes and nasty teeth on this critter. This weekend the famous Christmas Place will hold their annual squirrel hunt to help eradicate these rodents. They sneak around on the ground and then fly over your head. They will bark at you incessently as you ease through the woods. They will throw acorns, pecans or hickory nuts at you as you walk under a tree. They are vile, evil and vicious. Everyone please bring extra shells to exterminate these varmints.

MISS MANNERS SQUIRREL CAMP ETIQUETTE

RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR HUNTERS 10/14/2006

1. DO NOT GET DRUNK AND LET YOUR FACE FALL IN YOUR STEW. IT IS GROSS AND YOU WILL DROWN
2.NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SEE A BIG BUCK WHILE SQUIRREL HUNTING, PRETEND IT IS NOT THERE, REPORT TO ME IN PRIVATE.
3.DO NOT GET DRUNK AND FALL IN FIRE.
4.DO NOT GET DRUNK AND FALL ON GUY DALE OR BOBBY. BOBBY HAS A CANE AND GUY DALE IS FASTER THAN HE LOOKS
5. BLACK SQUIRRELS COUNT DOUBLE
6. MAKE JOE NEWMAN FEEL AT HOME, YOU CAN FALL ON HIM
7 EVERYONE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR SAM
8. CLOTHES MUST BE WORN AT MEALS
9. EVERYONE MUST HATE ALABAMA
10. SOMEONE MUST BE SOBER ENOUGH TO FIND GREG JONES IN THE WOODS.
11. SOMEONE MUST BE SOBER ENOUGH TO LEAVE PAUL IN THE WOODS.
12. REMEMBER THAT THE BODOCK TIMES ONLY TELLS THE TRUTH. ALL ACTIVITIES WILL BE REPORTED IN THE NEXT EDITION
13. MAKE BAXTER FEEL WELCOME, ONLY TALK ABOUT HIM WHEN HE IS IN ANOTHER ROOM.
14. BRAG ON HERSHELS COOKING, MOST PEOPLE NEVER GET SQUIRREL HEAD SOUP.
15. IF PAUL GETS BITTEN BY A SNAKE, TRY NOT TO LAUGH.
16. CONDUCT YOURSELVES LIKE PEOPLE WE REALLY DON’T KNOW.
17. FINALLY, THE PERSON TAKING THE MOST SQUIRRELS WILL BE REMEMBERED AS THE HERO OF THE CAMP WITH THEIR PICTURE IN THE BODOCK TIMES!

The Big 80th Birthday Party

Water Valley, MS> The day finally arrived for the big birthday bash. It was held at the Tearoom in Water Valley. Denise had set everything up with CJ (the owner). The tables were festive with balloons, the food was delicious, photos of dad from every age in his life were scattered around the tables and walls. Big band music played softly on an old phonograph. Everyone brought presents.He even had a picture birthday cake!
Marilyn came with Hanh and sat at the head table with Mom and Dad.
Trent and Shelley, Paul and Wanda, Rex and Denise, all sat together
Haley, Hillary and Sarah sat with Tyler and Kyle and seemed to have a great time
Spencer and Erin sat with Michael and his friend Hannah. They kept things spiced up!

Even our cousins, Bebo and Kent came with their wives Jan and MaryJean. They sat with Kim Jones.
Trent gave a speech! "When I was a boy, my dad taught me to hunt"
Blah, Blah, Blah! Give a boy a fish, you feed him for a day. Yada, Yada, Yada,
Teach a boy to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. Blah, blah, yada, yada
Crickets chirped followed by polite applause.

Paul gave a speech! He laid out his 10 Dad points in Lawyerese.
1. blah, blah, blah, What the hell? 2. Yada, yada, yada, I'm getting sleepy. 3. more blah, blah, Can't keep my eyes open. 4. yada, yada, glassy eyes. 5. gentle snores 6. loud snores. no one heard the rest of the points! Polite applause as everyone recovered from their stupor.

Rex gave a speech! The audience was gripped by his words. In the tradition of Hemingway, Robert Frost, Lincoln and Nash Buckingham, his great oration, razor wit and rapier style captured the audience. They hung on his every word as he talked about his love for his father. He made the audience laugh, they cried, they intently absorbed his every word. They went crazy! They cheered and clapped as he finished and modestly sat down.


Dad ate cake, said a few words of Thank Yous, and opened presents.
It was a wonderful and fitting party for a man we all love so well. We hated that it was over and we wish that we could do more to show our appreciation. Happy 80th Birthday Dad! We Love You!

HOMECOMING 2006

University, MS> Homecoming weekend at Ole Miss! The weather was perfect and the Grove was filled with tailgaters cooking, drinking and enjoying the morning. We met Mark at his tent and had those early morning beverages and talked to all our friends wandering by. I have been other places for tailgating but I promise that you have never seen anything like Ole Miss during a ballgame. The big trees, bright colors, beautiful women, and the excitement as 50 thousand people enjoy just being there together. To top it off, the OLE MISS REBELS won the game against Vanderbilt 17-10 despite themselves. We kept trying to figure out who side our quarterback was playing for. Lots of turnovers kept us in it and we celebrated as the final horn sounded. Burney, Paul, Lammey and his sons at Marks' tent
Dem Joneses were there! Kim, Tyler, and Kyle
The ladies! Kim Stewart, Wanda Howell, Kim Jones and Denise Sunderland
Mark Stewart, Paul Howell, Bill Howard and your friendly and modest blogger Rex Howell

The Mysterious Rod Storrs

DoubleNaught,MS> Rod Storrs is a mystery, inside a conundrum, inside an enigma, etc. Who is he? What the hell is he doing in Mississippi? Many people believe that he is in the Federal Witness Protection Program.Others believe that he is an agent for CONTROL. Here are the important and kind of weird facts we know. First he is a Yankee, we have accepted that but after 20 years here, he still talks funny. He is known to disappear for weeks, months or years at a time with no explanation and has a habit of talking to his shoe. He says he served in Vietnam but we don't know on whose side. He knows a lot about Black Helicopters. He was just sightseeing on that grassy knoll in Dallas and likes his martinis shaken, not stirred. He also can show up at the strangest times. You are at a ballgame and LOOK! Rod is a damn referee! You go in a bar and find him huddled in a corner with a shadowy character that resembles a Klingon. You are in the middle of nowhere duck hunting, turn around and he is standing right beside you! He learned Karate from a strange Buddhist monk in China and has a strange resemblance to Santa Claus. He loves to hunt. Turkey, deer, whatever. After he shoots, he always says "My life for you, Godfather".
He lives in a swamp north of Oxford. This is bizarre without adding anything to it.
His cabin is hidden way back in the woods and I can assure you that trespassing would be fatal
He lives alone but has a thing for redheads and always injects the phrase "THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE " into a conversation.A good hunting companion, always in a good mood, quick to laugh and fun to joke with. He has been a good friend of the Howell family for a long time.
P.S. I have checked his fingers to see if they are the right length (they are). So if he is an alien bounty hunter his disguise is perfect.

Hidden Treasure?

Oak Island, MS> Everyone knows that there are secrets buried at the famous Christmas Place Prospectors Club. The land sits south of the old cotton capital of the world at Greenwood, MS and north of Vicksburg and Natchez, which were big trading areas and early settlements. The main wagon road led directly through the heart of our property. When we bought the land we were told of the cannon barrel of gold buried there. We keep a sharp eye out knowing that is not all that is buried here. The woods are full of old homesites and rock chimneys. Plowing the fields we find old bottles, arrowheads, and assorted bricks and pottery. Robbers and thieves ran amok in the area and everyone knows they buried their treasure here.
A few years ago, Trent was sneaking around looking for sign and was crossing the main cottonfield when a gleam caught his eye. Reaching down he pulled a silver half dollar out of the dirt. Yeehah!!!! He looked for more, then headed to the camp.
The members gathered around and studied the coin for awhile. The great deductive minds were not sure when it was buried but is was obviously stolen by the notorious stagecoach robber Ben Franklin. Brilliant!!!!

Ghost Lights of the Arrowhead Field

Phantom, MS> Mark Stewart came in late that night. He had hunted the Arrowhead Field up past the lake. The story he told that night at dinner was eerie and strange.
The day had been gloomy and overcast and he had only seen a few does crossing the field, and none had spent more than a few moments eating before they moved on. He patiently waited the last few minutes of daylight in case a big buck eased across the field in the fading light. The late evening air turned cold as the sun disappeared and night crept across the famous Christmas Place. Mark turned, watching desperately, and watched for any movement along the edge of the field. Wisp of fog rolled through the hollow below him and trailed out into the food plot.
The stand is in the center of a long field that balloons on each end. Hunting there ensures that you have to continually scan the field in front of and behind you. The site of an Indian village 500 or so years ago, we had found several arrowheads in the field and hence it’s name.
The sun was gone and several three deer came in and start grazing. Finally, they wandered off into the darkness. He waited till pitch dark before deciding to come down from the stand. He stood up and stretched his legs. A deer snorted down the field and he could barely see its’ flag as it bounced away. He sat down and lit a cigarette to wait a few more minutes and realized that the woods to his right were starting to glow. A deep hollow runs the edge of the field on that side and it seemed that a pale light was moving toward him up from the bottom this area.
His first thought was wondering who was hunting in there and what the heck they were doing.
The light moved up through the trees until it reached the edge of the treeline, then seemed to lift straight up and hang above the trees. Mark watched in amazement trying to figure out what was going on. He lifted his rifle and put his scope on the object.
He said it was round, slightly fuzzy and held a pale white and green glow. It seemed to pulse occasionally as it moved out and hovered over the field about 10 feet in the air.
It was hard to judge but it seemed about four feet around as it floated about 30 yards in front of him. Thinking quickly he pulled out his quick shot camera and took a picture. He put out his cigarette and watched as it started to lower itself then pop back up in the air. A terrible feeling of dread and danger seemed to grip Mark. It moved closer and he began to get a bad feeling that whatever it was had become aware he was watching and that he should get out of there. It moved closer to him and hung straight out in front of him, no more than 10 feet away. It became motionless as Mark eased his rifle down to firing position. It stayed right in front of him for about five minutes, slightly pulsing and slowly changing from white to pale green and then to yellow. Swirls of color and light inside the strange orb seemed to form angry faces that stared at him or seemed to give unheard screams and other movements making him wonder if they were calls for help or of horror. Swirling inside and rapidly changing colors, faded away to other movement and faces inside, leaving him feeling horrified and sick. His heart beating wildly, he also had a lost feeling that a terrible wrong had happened that he could not stop. Then it moved away to the edge of the field, worked its’ way slowly down through the trees and disappeared below the ridgeline.
Mark quickly got down and headed back to camp. Many of the members laughed and told him it was a good story. He said they could believe what they wanted, but he would never be on that stand at dark again.

New Business Cards Are In

Water Valley, MS> Tens of people come in my office everyday saying "Man, your web site is great! How do I find it on the web again?" Now, I have these cool business cards to whip out at a moments notice.

Hershel Howell is 80 Today!

Happy Birthday Dad, We All Love you!!!

The Treacherous Widowed Recluse

Amazon, MS> As stated, Denise and I had a relaxing weekend at the famous Christmas Place Rain Forest. Except, for a few minor things it was great. Saturday was sunny and beautiful and we decided to hop in the Gator and go check our food plots to see how they were doing. We took my dog, Camo, who thinks she is supposed to drive. I finally moved her fat butt over and off we went on our adventure.
There is something that every person that does not spend time in the woods really needs to know. When the weather turns cool in the early fall, a large spider spins webs across every opening in the woods. I guess they are trying to catch hapless hunters. Here we go, zipping along checking out the fields and turn up what is known as Squirrel Road. This road winds through the woods before coming out at a field beside an Indian Mound. The stand is on the mound and has always been a great hunting spot. We are buzzing along laughing and talking and run smack into a giant web across the road. The spider crashes into my face. Denise screams AIIIEEEEE!!!!
and just bails out of the moving 6 wheeler, leaving me to be eaten by the hungry spider. The dog WOOFS! and jumps out too! Coward! Denise goes AIIIIIEEE Spider!! as I wipe the webs from my face and see the giant tarantula recluse hanging from the bill of my cap. It looks about the size of a dinner plate from my perspective as I slam on the brakes. HOLY CRAP!!! I yell as I try to get away. Suddenly WHACK! What the hell? WHACK! WHACK! as Denise hits me with a large branch. What the hell? I think as WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! I am hit again. The dog sees this and starts to get the hang of it and jumps up biting the hell out of my legs. WHACK! A Spider!! like the damn thing was on her. GRRRRR!! Whack! as the dog ate my ass up. GRRRR!! What a great game! GRRR! WHACK!!The spider got tired of looking at my nose and managed to climb up on top of my hat and escaped as Denise leveled another blow across my back. I threw my hat into the woods and managed to get the two crazies off of me as Denise hopped up and down screaming a spider was on her. I pulled the webs off both of them, got my bruised body back in the 6 wheeler and it was time to go back to camp. I needed a drink.

Joe Black Plans A Deer Hunt

Bring a machine gun!

Why Bobby Quit Hunting (the real reason)

Cold Sweat, MS> This past weekend I ended up at the famous Christmas Place for a rare relaxing weekend. Burney and Bobby were there. I brought Denise and Camo. A quiet time, and all the work was done. We rode four wheelers, looked at fields and came in and watched the Rebels at 8:00. (we lost) That night, while watching the game, we ate pizza, and afterwards sat around and talked. It was late when we hit the bed. It felt good to be with friends and have a relaxing evening. I quickly fell into a sound sleep. Later that night I suddenly found myself wide awake. Lying very still, I listened for sound.
A very low moan came from the living room. The sound of the refrigerator opening and then closing, the clink of a glass and then the low murmur of the TV made me wonder who could be prowling around at that time of night. I quietly got up and eased into the room. Bobby was sitting in front of the TV with a glass of milk in hand. The TV had CNN quietly giving news, but Bobby was lost in his own thoughts. A low moan escaped from his lips, he shook his head, took a drink and stared blindly at the news. “Bobby, are you alright?” I asked. He jumped, smiled and became his old self.
He said he couldn’t sleep and a glass of cold milk helped. I sat on the couch and we chatted a minute. He quickly became lost in his thoughts again as I flipped channels looking for football scores. Suddenly and very quietly he asked me, “Rex, do you know the real reason I quit deer hunting?” I made a joke about him pretending to be old and using a cane but could tell he wasn’t listening. It grew quiet and he told me this story.
It was the first year that we came here. 1995, I think. We had worked clearing fields, planting and getting everything ready. I was really excited and by the big buck sign I saw, really believed that I would finally get a trophy size buck. The last afternoon I hunted, I told everyone that I saw a big buck right at dark, but it was so dark that I didn’t shoot.
That’s not what really happened.
I hunted in the big field across the Beaver Dam if you remember. I had my .270 and my old Kodak camera just in case I got that old buck. He smiled to himself and then went on. I was sitting in that old rickety box stand. It was a little dangerous but Hershel had said it would last for that year anyway. I saw four does that afternoon and as the sun went down I got ready for a giant buck to appear. It got darker and darker and just as I thought I ought to get down, I heard footsteps. I could hear the steps coming and figured it was straight across the field. I got my camera up to take an action shot, but dropped it back in my lap as I realized that something terrible was coming through the woods. The creature, whatever it was, stepped out into the edge of the field. I froze and felt the hair on my neck stand up. It was huge, shaped like a man, but wild and covered with hair or fur. It stood on its’ hind legs like a man and looked up and down the field. Then it got very still. Finally, it turned it’s head and looked directly at me. I was so scared that I could not move or breathe. The thing was tall, maybe 7 feet and keeping its’ eyes on me, stepped out and headed straight towards me. It moved fast with big loping steps. I managed to get my safety off and tried to get my scope on it, but I panicked as I suddenly realized it was probably coming to get me. I stood up and aimed my rifle, but with several large steps it disappeared directly underneath the 20 ft high box stand. I waited for it to climb up but never heard a sound. Not a footstep, not the crack of a twig, nothing. It got dark as I waited. I waited 30 more minutes and never heard a sound. I turned on my light and shined it all around, went to the ladder and made sure to shine the light all around and then holding the rifle under one arm eased down the ladder.
You do not know, but it was one of the bravest things I’ve ever done. Getting to the bottom of the ladder, I held the light against my rifle barrel and made sure to investigate every clump of grass and tree around me. I stepped backwards into the field. I backed all the way across the field and turned around as I got to the old road that lead to the four wheeler. Just as I got to the edge of the field, I head a sharp CRACK!, along with several loud grunts. I whipped around with my rifle ready to shoot and in the dim light saw the old stand wildly shaking and moving back and forth.
Another loud CRACK! and the stand fell over into the field. I turned and ran. That was the last time I ever went hunting.We sat there in silence for a few minutes and he said “I tried to imagine that it didn’t really happen, that it was a dream I had. He shook his head, reached into his shirt and said “I found this a couple of days ago in some old film Burney got developed”. He handed me a picture and said “I didn’t even know I took it”.

I studied the picture for awhile, then looked at my watch. It was 5:00AM. I got up, made a pot of coffee and Bobby and I watched the news. We didn’t go back to bed that night and we didn’t talk about what happened to him either.

Marks First Buck

RipVanwinkle, MS> Mark Stewart had hunted with us since we were in college. (1978)It has been a real education into the outdoor life (for him). He started out as a no-nothing Memphis hunter (as we call them). He knew nothing about hunting, but He really enjoyed the camaraderie of the camp and somehow kept our friendship alive through many ups and downs. He did this because there is not a bad or vindictive bone in his body. He (as I learned) is one of those rare true friends, one that will stick with you through thick or thin. He became a member when we were at Abbeville and later when we made the move to Natchez. He had never killed a deer in all the years we were together, (God knows I tried) but things changed rapidly once we got to the Christmas Place. He took a giant step and learned more about scouting for sign, finding stand areas, and staying with it until he finally took a couple of does. That really got him going. That day he hunted the #1 field. A cool and crisp afternoon had made the field fill up with deer and just at dark a nice 8-pointer stepped out in front of him. A big rack! His heart went crazy but he managed to get the crosshairs on him. BOOM! The deer crashed and Mark had the weight of the world off his shoulders.
Rex was hunting a good place on the edge of the creek and overlooking the cotton field. He relaxed and watched several deer grazing when a distant gunshot made him hope that Mark had finally got his deer.
Just at the last of daylight, he saw a big buck rapidly approaching. It hit the creek, crossed and moved to the edge of the field. It was just around a little bend in the tree line. Rex got his rifle up. He scanned the edge with his scope waiting for the monster to step out. The sound of a gunning engine caught his attention. The deer all disappeared as rapid honks of the horn was followed with a Bronco sliding around the edge of the field. Mark came barreling out into the middle of the field.
He slammed on the brakes, hit the horn and shouted “I got him!” Rex got down, the big buck forgotten, he found a wild eyed and happy Mark, hugged him and shook his hand. They gazed at each other with their friendship magically renewed and strengthened. A slap on the back and it was time to go get him. It had been a long hunt. (1995)

Gettysburg or Bust!

Gettysburg, PA> Mark Stewart, deranged mailman and psychotic truck driver, finally learned how to buy something on ebay. Of course, he paid way too much and did not find out how close it was before bidding. He bought a Gator for his father. Unfortunately, it was located just outside Gettysburg in a place called Seven Valleys of the Wolf or something, I think Alvin lives there. Anyway, it is 16 hours up there. He couldn't find anyone to go with him to get it and called me. I told him I was dying of the flu and had a broke leg, he said you owe me money. So off we went.
16 hour road trip. The bright spot was that we did get to see Gettysburg National Battle Field and even though I was surprised that it was not as grand as I imagined, I was glad I got to see it. 16 hours back. I am totally exhausted. We did not even get to stop at Miss Lindseys Pancake House and Nude Dancing Emporium. P.S. I checked every ditch from here to Pennsylvania and did not spot his deer head, Trent must have tossed it somewhere else.

THUNDERHOOF SPEAKS!

MEGAHORN, MS> THUNDERHOOF (TH) THE CHIEF AND LORD OF THE WHITE TAIL DEER THAT ROAM THE CHRISTMAS PLACE HUNTING CLUB (AND THE BIGGEST DAMN BUCK YOU'VE EVER SEEN)GAVE HIS ANNUAL INTERVIEW TODAY TO THE EDITOR AT THE BODOCK TIMES (BT). THIS INTERVIEW IS GIVEN EVERY YEAR TO GIVE THUNDERHOOFS' OPINION ON THE STATE OF THE HUNTERS AND OF THE DEER FOR THE COMING SEASON.
BT- THUNDERHOOF, HOW DO YOU MAINTAIN THAT ENORMOUS BODY WEIGHT AND ANTLER SIZE?
TH- I TRY TO STAY A TRIM 400/40. 400 LBS. AND A 40 INCH WIDE RACK, THANKFULLY, I EAT THE GRASS THOSE IDIOTS PLANT FOR ME LIKE EATING POPCORN, I GRAZE AND LAY AROUND MUNCHING IT AT MY LEISURE. THE CLOVER AT THE INDIAN MOUND IS ESPECIALLY GOOD.
BT- THERE ARE SOME GOOD HUNTERS THERE, ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT GETTING SHOT?
TH- NO I AM NOT WORRIED, FOR GODS SAKE EVERYTIME THEY SEE ME THEY PANIC. LOOK AT BURNEY, SHOT AT ME, KILLED A PINECONE, GREG JONES, KILLED A CHICKEN IN TCHULA 9 MILES AWAY WITH HIS RICOCHET, PAUL WOULDN’T EVEN SHOOT AT ME AT TWO HUNDRED YARDS BECAUSE HE FAINTED AND LAST YEAR I WALKED OUT IN FRONT OF HERSHEL AND LAUGHED AS HE SHOT STRAIGHT UP IN THE AIR.
BT- TRENT IS ACTING WEIRD AGAIN, CAN HE GET YOU?
TH-HE KILLED MY LITTLE BROTHER A FEW YEARS BACK BUT LAST YEAR I HAD HIM SO CONFUSED HE COULDN'T SHOOT STRAIGHT. HE IS A WASHED UP LOSER.
BT- REX WAS LUCKY LAST YEAR, CAN HE GET YOU?
TH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
NO WAY, HE IS AS PITIFUL AS BURNEY.
BT- HERSHEL HAS PUT A LOT OF WORK INTO THE CHRISTMAS PLACE WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS?
TH- FRIDAY NIGHT WHEN HE IS ASLEEP, I AM GOING DOWN AND PERSONALLY EAT UP HIS WHOLE DAMN GARDEN. I APPRECIATE THE FOOD PLOTS AND THE WAY HIS SNORING DOESN’T BOTHER
ME WHILE I’M EATING, AND I LET HIM SEE ME LAST YEAR BUT HE IS NOT HUNTING VERY HARD AND NEEDS A JUMPSTART TO GET HIM GOING AGAIN.
BT- BURNEY IS DUE AND YOU HAVE BEEN SEEN IN THE SOUTH CORNFIELD WHERE HE WANTS TO HUNT.
TH- I HAVE RUN BY THAT IDIOT, WALKED UP BEHIND HIM, PEED ON HIS SALT LICK AND OTHERWISE PICKED ON HIM FROM THE TIME HE GOT HERE, HE IS A NO FACTOR IN HUNTING.
BT- ANY GUESTS HAVE A CHANCE?
TH- LIKE WHO?
BT= GREG JONES
TH- OH MY GOD, THAT’S FUNNY, CANT HIT A DEER, MUCH LESS A BUCK, WITH HIS BUCK FEVER.
BT- WHAT ABOUT TERRY?
TH- YOU KNOW HE IS SO SIMPLE THAT HE MAY BE THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS A CHANCE, BUT I’M TIRED OF HIM KILLING THE YOUNG ONES.
BT- JOE NEWMAN?
TH-AS A DEER HUNTER, HE WOULD MAKE A GOOD BLIND AVIATOR.
WITH THE TYPE DEER HE KILLS, HE'D HAVE TO KILL 200 TO WEIGH AS MUCH AS MY FRONT LEG
BT- BOBBY?
TH- I ACTUALLY SLEEP IN HIS GROUND STAND WHEN IT IS RAINING, HE NEEDS TO CLEAN CAMP AND DRAG DEER FOR REX.
BT- THERE IS A BUNCH OF EXCITED KIDS WAITING TO HAVE A CRACK AT YOU THIS YEAR.
TH- MICHAEL CAN'T SIT STILL, AUSTIN WON'T SHOOT AND SPENCER FALLS ASLEEP. THESE THREE HAVE A LONG WAYS TO GO TO GET A GLIMPSE OF ME.
BT-THUNDERHOOF HAD TO LEAVE TO DESTROY DEERSTANDS THIS AFTERNOON, BUT WE HOPE TO HAVE ANOTHER INTERVIEW WITH HIM BEFORE GUN SEASON

Paul Howell Gets Serious

Ft. Apache, MS> Paul Howell, famed braggart and shyster lawyer, had watched last year as Thunderhoof escaped, the Black Knight had made fools of the members of the inept Christmas Place Hunting Club, numerous big bucks were seen and Mark Stewart killed the biggest deer. Holy crap! All he had done was take a small buck and pay a fine. He was tired, pissed off and in shock. Then his four wheeler fell apart. He went crazy! Then an idea was born in his head that would guarantee death to the evil deer! He rushed down to his local arms dealer and Voila! The perfect hunting accessory!

Trents' Wild Ride

Bronco, MS> Trent was always being too sneaky. He told everyone that he was going across the Beaverdam Hollow to hunt if anyone wanted to go. Fine, we said, but it looks like a bad storm is coming and you may not be able to get out of there and we didn't want to go. He looked at us like we were fools and took off. He had a 1988 four wheeler with two wheel drive. He wound down the almost sheer side of the steep hollow, into the flat and found a place to park about halfway up the other side that was almost straight up also. He laughed to himself as he looked at the clear skies, those chickens are afraid of a little rain.
An hour later, a gigantic storm was pouring all over Trent. He thought he was going to drown in his deerstand! He better get the hell out of here. He got down and slogged his way back to his four wheeler. He strapped everything down, gazed through the blinding rain at the cascades of water pouring into the valley and it suddenly occurred to him that He just might have a problem. On top of that it was getting dark too. He cranked her up and took off! Downhill was easy, and he poured the gas to it as he headed up the other side.
Halfway up he stalled and the four wheeler started sliding back. He eased back and tried again, he tried again, one more time, Damn, again, he tried going out the other side. No luck. He just needed to give it more gas was all. He revved the motor, and slammed it in gear. He took off, deer calls and flashlight went flying! Sheets of water flew as He hit the upslope and gave it even more gas. No Luck. Turning around he hit the gas to get out the other side. Back and forth, back and forth. Uh-oh! no luck. It was desperation time! He pushed the throttle until he thought the little four wheeler might blow up and headed up the slope. Mud flew, tires spun, water shot everywhere! He was almost up!
Two days later we were able to get a tractor with a long chain in there and spent half a day getting the mud covered and buried four wheeler out. Trent had walked the two miles back to camp in the pouring rain. Now anyone who crosses the Beaverdam makes sure someone knows where they are and are not so smart that they don't always check the weather before leaving.

This Birthday is Big!

Water Valley, MS> Hershel Howell will celebrate his 80th birthday on Oct. 4. Planning for this event is now in progress. It may be held at the Tearoom if we can work it out. The party may be held Sunday the 8th. The thousands of faithful readers that want to send gifts or money can send it directly to me, or send a birthday card by email!

Bow Season Starts Soon!

Burney Howell with a nice 10 point taken by bow

TEN POINT CLUB MEETING

Secret Rites, MS> The annual meeting of the Ten Point Club was held this weekend at the exclusive Christmas Place Hunting Club. This is a mysterious masked affair surrounded in secrecy that involves lots of secret deer stuff that only members of the elite club can know. Everyone wears Indian and deer headdresses and costumes. Some of the jealous non member wanna-be yokels get confused.

The Big Chief Hershel called the meeting to order
Secretary Trent read the minutes in his clever new camo. Members loved it and begged for him to come by their stand.


The bar was opened.
The floor was open for ideas and debate


Between drinks and cigars Paul made a motion to expel Mark Stewart from the camp for killing the biggest deer last year. There was a close vote, but the nays took it after several members remembered who killed the smallest deer last year.

Rex made a motion to declare Thunderhoof a national treasure and no one allowed to shoot at him except Bloggers. After chants of DEATH TO THUNDERHOOF, DEATH TO THUNDERHOOF and beer cans thrown at Rex, he was voted down. He swore a blog oath and sat down.


Burney wanted the Point Stand, and Pond Stand off limits to everyone but him so that he could hunt the Black Knight. Much laughter and hoots met this request and he was voted in as the outside cook and bottle washer again.

Trent made a motion to kill anyone wanting to hunt on the property besides 10 point members, a motion was made to put him in a mental ward but was never voted on.
He then tried the No women and No dogs B.S. but nobody listened as usual. He did manage a no Muslim ban and open season on any spotted on property.

Much business was done as everyone not in the Ten Point Club was assigned as deer skinners and camp cleaners (again). Secret plans were put into effect to keep a guest from killing a deer as usual.
Women with big hooters and hot bodies were discussed at length.


Terry (guest) wanted the Indian Mound to hunt and this was greeted with outright rude cries of DEATH TO GUEST from Secretary Trent. Others asked what the hell was he doing there anyway when he should be out selling chocolate bars.

About this time several of the minions assigned to park cars tried to sneak into the meeting in costume.
The meeting was stopped as Mark burst through the door and demanded to be let in the club for killing the biggest deer last year. After everyone quit laughing a 100% thumbs down vote was taken.

Mr. Jones staggered in and wanted to be in the club because, hell he saw a 10 point last year and had missed at least one, plus all the cool people were in the group and got to drink whiskey, smoke cigars and watch secret videos. He was told that not only was he imagining things, he was blind and crazy too.


They were unceremoniously thrown out while the group drank whiskey, smoked cigars and watched hunting tapes and X-rated movies for the next hour.

Bobby kept peeping in the window.


All rules were left as they were for the upcoming year. (No Paul rules were made unfortunately) The infighting for hunting areas was minimal this year and no shootings or stabbings occurred
After congratulations all around and splitting of their oil money the meeting was adjourned.