Tusks Of A Dilemma

Over at the Hog Blog, Phillip held the package in his hands wondering if he should open it. The return address was simply Thunderhoof, somewhere in Mississippi. He knew it was from the strange and mysterious region known as the Christmas Place in the fog-shrouded edge of the Mississippi Delta. Thoughts ran through his head on what it could be. He thought of the blood-curdling tales he had heard and wondered could it be a shrunken head, a strange talisman of evil (like Pauls deodorant) or maybe something wondrous like a carved good luck charm from Thunderhoofs antler.
He studied the brown package, sighed and opened it.
Stay tuned.........

Hog Camp 2012 Results

Everyone made it safely into camp on Friday but things started spiraling downhill after John (yankee) had a big hog in his sights that afternoon and pulled the trigger. Click! click-click-click! The hog wandered off.
We had three Yankees Ron, John and Joe there. Kyle Jones, Dean Lammey, Robert and Tony from Luxahoma, Brian Henry showed up, Burney, Myself and Dad. A perfect size camp and almost everyone at least had a chance at a hog during the weekend.
Saturday morning Brian got this big 170lb. Red Runner.
Hog Camp 2012
Our three Yankees fromm Minnesota had a great time and Joe blasted one that got away even though we looked for it half of Saturday night.

Camo dreams of pork chops so she and I got in the last picture.

Last Hog Update

Burney slipped into camp yesterday and I just got a call from him. Dad, Chris and Burney are trapped in the laundry room at camp surrounded by crazed wild hogs and are low on bullets. The hogs were gouging the door with their tusks as they frantically tried to keep them out. He asked me to bring more bullets and whiskey.

Abraham!

Living in rural Mississippi has it's drawbacks, especially on world wide events and history. Do you know that most of these hayseed ignoramusses did not even know that Abraham Lincoln was a professional Vampire Hunter? President by day, hunter by night. Jeez!
Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter

Hog Update

The wild hogs around the famous Christmas Place are moving in packs, mobs, swarms? of several hundred attacking anything that moves. They are worse than the Zombies! The National Guard has sealed off all roads into the area to protect the human population. Ravaged homes have been ransacked as the blood-crazed animals search for more victims. A mass exodus of all game animals from chipmunks, to birds, to deer have been spotted. The Mississippi delta is in need of someone to lift this horrible menace to life and limb! Do not worry, The Christmas Place Hog Eradication Unit is parachuting in on Friday.

Thunderhoof Tweets

I just received a tweet from Thunderhoof? That damn deer is now on twitter. Why can't he act like a normal deer? He will be updating his pics and profile soon he says. He wants to put a link on my blog too!
He says to be patient, he hasn't had this much fun since that Hernando DeSoto fella came through here lost as a goose in a whirlwind.
He also says he can type and text better with his antlers than I can with my hands and feet too.

6th Blogiversary

I never thought the day would come when I was ancient on the Internet but I have been blogging since February 2006. A lot of friends have come and gone and a lot of hunting has been studied, ridiculed or admired. Thanks to everyone that reads the few words I write or gets enjoyment from reading the insane antics of all my family. I will try to keep it going as long as possible.

Hog Report

The 2012 Christmas Place Hog Camp will be the weekend of February 25 and reports are beginning to come in on the hog situation for the area.
Latest reports say that the hogs are running amok. The small town of Thornton has been over-run and abandoned. Local villagers are afraid to leave their homes and hundreds have been killed by angry, rampant hordes of hogs. The Christmas Place farmers have had to leave their tractors in the fields and flee for their lives and no cars have been able to enter the area without being overturned or losing all their tires to the sharp tusks of the crazed beasts. It is a damn Catastrophe!
Help is on the way.

Valentines Day- Hunters Beware!

Denise and I made our trip to the wonderful Como Steak House for our annual Valentines Day get together with Mark and Kim Stewart. Drew Stewart came and Burney dropped by for a visit while we ate and it was warm and relaxed except for one thing. Women do not like to talk about deer hunting, and I have found out this means especially at Valentines day.
Mark and I ordered another round.
Truthfully the ladies looked really great and we had a wonderful meal and a good time being together.

Denise and Kim

Group shot

A Trickling Of Big Bucks

A few pictures are still trickling in. I don't know anything about these two bucks or who got them but I am green with envy.

Visit To A Salon

No, Phillip. Not a saloon.
Our newest link is "A Salon" and is run by the ever optimistic and sharp lady known as Vicomtesse, that's french for hot Duchess or maybe some kind of bizarre horserace. Either way it is an interesting read.
Her blog is a salon you can visit, filled with ideas, witticisms, a little hunting, amazement at the way the world moves and a dash of the arts to help give you hunters a little sophistication. Geez.
I would appreciate everyone going over and giving her a big hello and check out her blog.

Mammoths? I Told You So.

Mammoth Tromping Through River
As usual you didn't believe me but I have proof, proof I say!

Thunderhoof And Eli

I do not know why anyone is surprised that the Giants won the Superbowl. Thunderhoof has only gone to 2 Superbowls and Eli was in both of them. Hello??? When I got his postcard that he was headed to Indianapolis I knew the Giants would win the game. Did anyone else see Thunderhoof up in the box with Archie or down on the sideline during the game? He was great!
Thunderhoof and Eli are great friends from Eli's Ole Miss days and everytime they get together they throw the ball around or Thunderhoof kicks it 4 or 5 hundred yards for him to catch. Camo likes to play defense but that Thunderhoof runs too fast.
Here is a picture of them together goofing around.

Ground Deer Day

Yesterday Camo searched high and low for a groundhog but did not find one. She really hates a damn groundhog! Meanwhile all the big bucks came out of their holes and headed for the Indian Mound at the famous Christmas Place. Dad was there to feed them corn and Thunderhoof stopped by on his way to see Eli at the Super Bowl.
So I guess a few big bucks survived, no thanks to Paul.

The Last Buffadeer

In the spirit of the man that shot the last free-ranging buffalo, blasted the last carrier pigeon, roasted the last Do-Do bird and scrambled it's last egg, and made a great wing shot on the very last Ivory Billed wood pecker; Paul Howell (aka Satan) made sure this past weekend to get the last deer off the Christmas Place as he shot at every deer that moved, blinked, jumped or fled before him.

Blam! A doe at Stone Flat!
Blam! A buck at Spike Camp!
Blam! Holy Crap! Bambi's mother!
A hail of gunfire rang out over the property and through the swirling haze of smoke Paul Howell strode spitting death in every direction with his 7 mag. as the season drew to a close. Ahh, Paul Howell the American Hunting Poster Boy.

Will Thunderhoof Escape (Again)?

The end of deer season is upon us and that damn stupid deer is still roaming the hills laughing at us. I have hardly seen that evil creature all winter but He did use his horns to knock down my treestand once this year (ha-ha real funny) and several times I heard him munching acorns just outside of my vision. (sounded like a gravel truck) I really need to put a bullet in his hide before deer season ends or I will have to put up with his hijinks all summer (again).

While I am fishing, he will come up and want to eat my peanut butter sandwiches, or just swim lazy circles around my boat. He will follow me around in the woods poking me with his antlers or racing my 4-wheeler every chance he gets. It is terribly disconcerting to have a deer the size of a moose staring in the window when you are trying to sleep. Then he and Camo have to race around the camp at all hours of the damn night playing tag, and Dad just babies him, gives him pecans, and milk duds, even having burping contests and Dad encourages him to harrass me and thinks it's funny.
I don't know if I can take another year of that varmint.

A Ducking Problem

My evil brother (no, Paul, the one from the coast) decided that he would go duck hunting this past weekend at the famous Christmas Place. He finally talked Dad in to going with him and before day he threw his decoys, dad and all their other junk in the Gator and took off for the lake. At the lake he threw all his junk, decoys and Dad in the boat, tied a rope to it and waded the edge for 250 yards to a spot halfway up the lake. He threw his junk and Dad on the bank, set out the decoys and then totally exhausted staggered into the brush to set up.

The wind was howling and the ducks would not cooperate. They kept landing on the big water just out of gun range and not in the little cove they were set up on. Finally, finally, a big mallard came winging in and Paul fired. The duck went down in the open water. They shot a few more times and the wind died down. Dad blew his duck call. "Quack, Quack, Quack" and down the lake came a giant bird. It was not a duck. By the time Paul said "What the hell is that?" The damn thing had swooped down, grabbed his duck, and took off! Dad said "Uhh, that WAS a bald eagle, looked hungry to me." The eagle circled the lake with the duck in his talons and headed back into the swamp. Paul threw his junk, decoys, and Dad in the boat and started trudging back up the lake. We don't need a damn duck stealing eagle taking advantage of our hunters. It looks like we have a ducking problem up at the lake.
ed. note (the exact same thing happened to me the last time I shot a big 250lb. buck and it fell in the lake.) Damn Eagles!

Tough On Does

Dean Lammey came in this past weekend and put the wollop on the does. He took these two up at the Dove Field.

Miracles Do Happen

Our cousin, Jimmy Lammey (Judge Lammey), has been hunting for deer about 100 years and never, ever manages to gets one. Miracles do happen. Here is a pic of the Judge with a nice 8-point he took at Abbeville last week. Congratulations, Cuz!

Clint Gets His

The Mailrider brought our old friend Clint down for the weekend and he got this big doe. He would have killed a big buck but he would not take my advice. (typical)