Location: Lives in the northern Jutland, which is where I grew up. Jutland is a part of Denmark.
GIVEAWAY DIGITAL CAMERA... Last chance...
My GF is coming by in a couple of hours - she and her sister will choose the winner shortly..
So please enter if you want a shot at this camera =o)
Just because it is the first time I reach 110 posts here and as well as it being the first monday of the week, I am going to giveaway a brand new digital camera.
Yes you read correctly.
Do I have your attencion now?? I think so...
Then please read carefully... =o)
1: No trolls, must be a member af of today..
2: Enter as many times as you want - you only get one shot at it anyways.
3: You must have tried a 30-06 rifle with a silencer
4: Disregard rule #3, it doesn't count.
5: Let's hear a hunting story or a joke.
That's it - if you have read the rules, qualified, then let's hear the story or joke and you're in the drawing.
I will draw a name somehow on sunday.. sometime before I go to bed.
Now calm down.!!!
It is just a 1.3MegaPixel camera, nothing big...
(Psssst, and it's the size of a creditcard!!!)
The pack says:
64Mb built-in RAM
Image Resolutions; 640*480 and 1280*960
Images in memory ; At 640*480 = 104 pictures, at 1280*960 = 26 pictures.
Battery is a LithiumIon battery, recharges through the USB Interface - so you must have a USB Port.
Overall size is "Creditcard sized" (slightly thicker though)
You should know I have TWO digital cameras to give away - the other one is for another forum.
Now.. don't do anything I've allready done - that would just be plain stoopid. I learned the hard way.
Only way to get stoned.??? - Whisky on the rocks.
Last edited by HappyNanoq; 10-24-2004 at 01:58 PM..
The notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
"Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, So I accepted".
Here are the scorecards from the event:
*****Chili # 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili****
Judge # 1 A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) Holy $@#!, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
*****Chili # 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili****
Judge # 1 - Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
*****Chili # 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili****
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 -- A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting $@#!-faced from all of the beer.
*****Chili #4 Bubba's Black Magic****
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out tastebuds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb. b&&&h is starting to look HOT -- just like this nuclear waste I'm eating. Is chili an aphrodisiac?
*****Chili # 5 Linda's Legal Lip Remover****
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.
*****Chili # 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety****
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge #3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I $@#! myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that sister Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my a$$ with a snow cone.
*****Chili # 7 Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili****
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava like $@#! to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, its too painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
*****Chili #8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili****
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balance chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili.
The only Thing necessary for Evil to Triumph is that Good Men do Nothing. Recruit someone for the NRA today!
After numerous rounds of "We don't even know if Osama is still alive",
Osama himself decided to send John Kerry a letter in his own
handwriting to let him know he was still in the game. Kerry opened the
letter and it appeared to contain a coded message: 370HSSV-0773H.
Kerry was baffled, so he typed it out and emailed it to John Edward's.
Edwards and his advisors had no clue either so they sent it to the
Democratic National Committee. No one could solve it so it went to the
National Education Association and then to MIT, who sent it to Michael
Dukakis, who then sent it to Teddy Kennedy. Eventually they asked
Britain's MI6 for help. They cabled John Kerry back "Tell the
Presidential Hopeful he is looking at the message upside down."
Years ago back when life was much simpler, their was a young man who supported his family by working in the Oil fields of Northwestern Pennsylvania. He was luckier than most of us today, his job involved in constantly working outside and close to nature itself. He could walk to work thru the woods in a matter of minutes! First thing in the morning well before dawn he would open up the door to the power house turn a few valves and with a quick kick of the large cast iron ban wheel, the one lung Bessemer would come to life! Chug, chug, chug, Boom the old engine would reply, and slowly the rod lines would start moving and the old pumping jacks would squeak and they would start pumping that pure Pennsylvania Crude deep from with in the bowel's of the earth! Oh how I used to love to hear the sounds of those old engines echoing across the valley!
Working in the woods like this gave him many advantages that you and I do not have! There were no ringing phones, no automobiles zooming by just the sounds of nature itself! Spending so much time walking the hills and valleys of Smith and Dennis Hollow Poppy soon became aware of the patterns and actions of the white-tailed deer!
There was one spot that he observed where the deer loved to gather in the thick brush. Poppy and some of his buddies decided that this would be a good place to build a deer blind. So with some pieces of old carpet and some poles they constructed a crude shelter. Within this shelter they made a small stove out of a 20 gallon grease drum to provide them from heat and the Meathouse as Poppy called it was born!
Poppy and his buddies could sit in the Meathouse and scan the opposite hillside for deer up to 400Yds away. It wasn't long before many bucks were harvested from this simple shelter. As the years went by Poppy had children and he would introduce these children to hunting by taking them to the meathouse! As the youngest of the brood I used to listen to the stories of my brothers about the deer that they had seen from this tattered old blind! Many times they would come home with a nice deer but many times they did not! It did not seem to matter! Oh how I longed to be able to go and sit in the old Meathouse and be apart of the hunt!
As the years went by the first meathouse was replaced with a new and improved model heck the new one even had a door and some old wooden boxes to sit on, Pagunrunner, Kinzua, Blackie, and me spent hours in that old blind, some times we were successful some times we were not! It never really mattered, when things were slow Poppy would tell us countless stories of this deer and that deer, he would tell us from what direction they would approach, he could tell us which were bucks just by watching them walk! we used to watch turkey and squirrels and occasionally a bear pass by! We would roast peanuts on the stove, warm up our sandwiches, drink some hot chocolate and just sit and watch for deer! Many of the kills were recorded on the walls of that old blind in black charcoal of ambers of a day gone by!
After many years the oil ran out and the old power house and wells were abandoned, the brush grew thicker and Poppy grew old and gray! On a knob overlooking the location of the site of the old powerhouse Meathouse number three was born! It was like the others just a little bigger and a little easier for the old timer to access! Along came the grandkids and the next generation was introduced to the joys of hunting ! They too sat and listened to the old timer tell of this deer and that deer. He taught them things that they could never learn from a book, they learned the how to identify different types of trees by looking at both it's leaves and bark, They were told where to look for his beloved Ginseng, how to identify it, how to dry it! It was like gold it could be sold for a good profit. He taught them things such as how to find a bee tree by using the crosslining method, how to cut down the tree, smoke the bees, and how to safely extract the honey! Nothing went to waste, the beeswax was used, for such things as waterproofing, fly tying and such! We all learned how oil was removed from the ground, the stories were endless, even though we heard them over and over again we never grew tired of them!
Poppy is gone now, but he lives on in each and everyone of us! Meathouse number four now stands at the base of Smith and Dennis Hollow, Pagunrunner,Blackie, Pa and Kinzua are now the old timer's, The youngins Pa Jr, 270 Deerslayer, Ruger 270man and the rest of the grandkids are now the ones who walk those hills and valleys in hopes of bagging a Monster buck! Some of the Grandkids have kids of there own, and soon the next generation of Poppy's clan will be hunting those hills and listening to the stories of yesteryear!
Poppy is gone now but on a cold December morning, as you sit shivering, watching in anticipation, for the next deer to come by, if you listen real close you may hear the sounds of those old powers pumping, those oil wells squeaking, and feel the presence of the man who shared so much of the things he loved!
I went on a week hunting trip last week about nine hour drive from home ....
I loss my (matching set , with the wife) wedding ring on the last day of the
hunt while taking off my gloves (well at least I think) ..... Was in a oak tree ,so I wouldn't have heard it fall .................
When I got home,the wife brought the game cam film to a one hour photo just down the road to get it done fer me .... OH YEA , did I say dat the wife wasn't tooooooooooooo happy about my loss ..... well any way , she went back to pick up the prints , and always looks at dem to throw any bad ones,,
The lady behind the counter (now lets all picture this together) hands her the envelope ....... she looks at the first one with some surprise ,she hurridly looks at the second one with much suprise... (now bout dis time her eyes are bugging out of her head) with the ring and all ...... Well the lady behind the counter seeing my wife starting to freak out ... and says " Is something the matter". well about the same time flipping over the packet with my cousins wifes name, real close to my wife's name ................. The pics were of women in bikinis standing by a large pool .......My wife says these are not for me but my cousin (by marriage) ...... the wife explains the ring story and says , "I was fixing to go home and jerk out my husbands toenails."
The day after a hurricane I had a very young squirrel come to me and would not return to the wild.
Well three days later my wife saw a baby skunk and wanted me to stop the truck so she could pick it up and care for it.
I couldn’t make her understand, so I stopped the truck.
She got back in the truck with the skunk all wrapped up in a towel.
After a couple of minutes she looks over at me and says
“Honey he is cold what do I do”
I told her just put him between your legs and he will warm up
But what about the smell she asked
So I told her
JUST PINCH HIS LITTLE NOSE
and I am still sleeping on the carport
Administrator & Owner
Proud, White, Heterosexual, Gun Owning, Southern American, Christian.
Any question about where I stand?
Last edited by 358 winchester; 10-23-2004 at 07:59 AM..
Sure, I'll enter the contest. Thanks for doing it.
Here's a Kerry joke:
" An elderly DNC campaign organizer dies of natural causes and goes up to heaven. He makes it to heaven because he repents at the last second before dying of old age and God forgives him for his sins.
He makes it to the Pearly Gates and meets with St.Peter, behind him, he sees many millions of analog clocks sitting on a gigantic cloud.
He asks St.Peter. "What are they?'"
St.Peter says "They are lie detectors, every time someone tells a lie, the hand moves clockwise one hour"
DNC organizer "Who's clock is that St.Peter?:"
St.Peter: "Thats Mother Theresa's, it has never moved"
DNC organizer "How about that one?"
St.Peter: "Thats Abe Lincoln's, it only moved once in 1863"
DNC organizer "Where is John Kerry's clock?"
St.Peter: "Its in Jesus Christ's office, Jesus has been using it as a ceiling fan since Kerry was born"
Last edited by Remington597; 10-19-2004 at 06:59 AM..
Cats do what they want.
They rarely listen to you.
They're totally unpredictable.
They whine when they are not happy.
When you want to play, they want to be alone.
When you want to be alone, they want to play.
They expect you to cater to their every whim.
They leave hair everywhere.
They drive you nuts and cost an arm and a leg.
Conclusion: They're tiny little women in cheap fur coats .
WHAT IS A DOG?
They follow you around with their tongues out.
They only respond to simple commands.
Their needs are basic and predictable.
They whine when their needs are not met.
They always need to have something in their mouth.
They scratch a lot and sometimes drool.
They make loud noises and sometimes smell bad.
They need to be trained.
You can always tell when one has lived in a house for a long time.
They're rude and rowdy, especially when they're with others like them.
Conclusion: They're men that wag their tails.
The flag represents a living country and is itself considered a living thing.
The only criminal class native to the United States is Congress.
Ok I'll try but there's NO way I'll ever top 358's . By the way it's been nice knowing you Ron
G. W. Bush and John Kerry somehow ended up at the same barbershop.
As they sat there, each being worked on by a different barber, not a word
was spoken. The barbers were even afraid to start a conversation, for fear
it would turn to politics.
As the barbers finished their shaves, the one who had Kerry in his chair
reached for the after-shave. Kerry was quick to stop him saying, "No thanks,
my wife Theresa will smell that and think I've been in a
The second barber turned to Bush and said, "How about you?" Bush replied,
"Go ahead, my wife doesn't know what the inside of a whorehouse smells
A friend of mine who is a Marine MP down here in Albany GA and I went hunting. We were out at DCON12's stompin grounds. We decided to split up and if we heard any shots we would come and help the other drag the deer out. I set him up with my 7mmMag. He had shot it before and knew where it shot.
Well about 45min in to the hunt I hear 2 shots.... HMMMM I think he shot one. So I get up and go to help him. I meet up with him and ask him where it was.... He tried every excuse he could to tell me why he missed 2 does at 75yrds. Well tonight I am going to try to get one of them to show him that they are not bullet proof. Moral to the story is if your in a gun fight with the MP'S down here stand in front of them and laugh at them cause they can't hit a thing that is more than 10yrds away.
I once went on a hunting trip with my cousin and my best friend. My cousin Greg is a dyed-in-the-wool hunter -- every year he's after birds and deer in Indiana and Michigan. So he knows the good hunting territory for pheasant and quail, and that day he was driving us all up North.
The three of us met at Greg's house early in the morning, loaded up the Jeep, and headed north. After a long drive, we got to the location and got out to start walking across the field. I grabbed my granddad's 16-ga. Winnie M12. Tony said, "Hey, where's my shotgun?" Man, we felt bad for him. He had left it leaning against a tree in front of Greg's house.
So all day, Tony walked along looking sheepish, and we would take turns letting him carry one of our shotguns so we would all get some hunting time. The gun was still there when we got home. Moral: When you go on a long hunting trip, be sure to bring the one essential thing -- your dang gun.
__________________ The Second Amendment does not exist
to protect the gun rights you like.
It exists to protect the gun rights you hate.
I was up hunting the west side of Mount Adams, one year, when I noticed a fresh deer trail going into a thicket of laurel. I walked the entire perimeter of that thicket and didn't see an exit trail, so I went in. I crept and crawled for nearly an hour and finally found the deer, in the center of the thicket, sound asleep. The wind had changed direction since she laid down so she hadn't smelled me and I didn't have a doe tag, so I just sat and watched her for awhile. When I was ready to leave, I reached up over my head and snapped off a branch with a loud crack. The doe woke up to find herself looking me right in the eye from about 20 feet. I think she touched down to earth sometime around Christmas.
Two delicate flowers of Southern womanhood, one from Georgia, the other from Alabama, were conversing on the porch swing of a large white pillared mansion. The Georgia peach said, "When my first child was born, my husband built this beautiful mansion for me." The lady from Alabama commented. "Well, isn't that nice??"
The first woman continued, "When my second child was born, my husband bought me that fine Cadillac you see parked in the drive." Again, the belle from Alabama commented, "Well, isn't that nice??" The first woman boasted, "Then, when my third child was born, my husband bought me this exquisite diamond bracelet." Yet again, the second of the ladies commented, "Well, isn't that nice?"
The first woman then asked her companion, "What did your husband buy for you when you had your first child?" "My husband sent me to charm school," declared the Alabama belle. "Charm school!" the first woman cried, "Land sakes, child, what on earth for?" The Alabamian responded, "So that instead of saying "Who gives a sh*t?" I learned to say, "Well, isn't that nice?"
My Second protects your First
"I declare to you that woman must not depend upon the protection of man,
but must be taught to protect herself, and there I take my stand." - Susan B Anthony
What the heck is that obnoxious noise, I try my best to ignore it. It is relentless, it slowly drags me away from my peaceful slumber? Unknown seconds tick by, until I finally realize, it must be the alarm clock. Disappointed, I release the dream that I SO wanted to finish. (You know the kind ) Lifting my cover, just enough to get an arm out, a shock sent my body into a fetal position. COLD, NO, not cold, it is FREEZING in here. Why? What happened to the heater? What in the world is going on?
I turn over to ask the wife about it, she is not there. I quickly sat straight up, smashing my head against the roof, knocking myself back down onto the bed. Dazed and confused, now with a headache, I remember that I am at the hunting camp, I am in my camper, and that obnoxious noise is still pounding around inside my head. I feel a small trickle of blood run down the side of my head. My arm, quick as a snakes tongue, flicked out and slapped the offending ringing device, sending it into a slow curving arc to land at the far end of the camper. Unfortunately, I missed the button to turn it off. In retrospect, I ask myself, why didn’t I get the wind up model? Something that I could ignore, and that would eventually run down. But NOOO I had to get the electric one, with fresh batteries to boot.
Resigned to the fact that I had lost that (oh so perfect) dream, and that I was going to eventually have to get up, with trepidation I opened the covers. Just enough to see if it was really as cold as I thought it was. The sudden rush of air, and the sound of my teeth chattering, told me all I needed to know. I realize that the propane must have run out sometime through the night. As you may know, with men, first thing in the morning, that there is a “muscle” that is usually “semi-rigid.” Well it was soooo cold, that muscle immediately shriveled up, and almost disappeared. I could tell that this was not going to be my best morning.
Expecting it to be warm in the camper come morning, I had set my clothes out, way over on the table at the opposite end of the camper. No way I could reach them and put them on under the covers. So I braced myself, flung the covers off, and sat up. I swear icicles were instantly forming on my mustache. I jumped down, only to have a stabbing pain shoot through my foot, up my leg, and into my back. My leg gave out and I fell over, hitting my head on the sink, knocking me backward, slamming my ribs into the edge of the counter. I crumpled into a semi-whimpering pile. Lying there on the floor of the camper, I wondered if I should even bother to move. I looked to see what I had stepped on that started this unfortunate chain of events. The stand, the stupid f^%#+“g stand that the clock had sat on, that is what I had jumped down on. Having your body, sprawled out on a freezing cold floor, in time, does give one an incentive to move.
The alarm clock was still ringing, I crawling over to the offensive device. I had already found it guilty, and was having thoughts of what a 30.06 bullet would do to it, at point blank range. Deciding that later that day I would find out, I turned it off. (Without trying to drive it through a wall, I might add) The numbing sensation in my fingers and toes reminded me, that I was still on a freezing floor, with no clothes on. I reached up and grabbed the clothes I had laid out for the day. Quickly I put them on with no catastrophes accruing from that small adventure.
Now just for information purposes. When we set up our hunting camp, we use a tent with a 5 gallon bucket lined with plastic bags, for a potty. The agreement is, that the first person up in the morning, has to light the light and the heater that is in that tent. Well guess who was the first one up. Oh ya, it was me. Having put my clothes on, was having a warming effect on that “muscle” that had almost disappeared. Being it’s natural self, it was sending a steady signal to my brain, that there was a “chore” that I was going to have attend to pretty quick.
I donned my shoes and coat, preparing myself to exit the camper. Opening the door, it was pitch black outside. I stepped down to where the step was supposed to be. Little did I know at the time that one of my hunting “buddies” had decided to use my step, after I went to bed, and had not replaced it. Yup, head over heels I went. I almost felt relief, when that very large rock stopped my forward progress, by crushing into my shoulder and the side of my face. Now, my body racked with pain, bloody, beaten, and half froze to death, I continued in my “quest” to reach the “potty” tent.
Slowly I opened the tent and went in. Not wanting anything else to go wrong, I carefully removed the necessary clothing, and assumed the “position” on the “throne.” With teeth chattering, and parts of my body turning blue, I reached over and retrieved the propane heater and light that were now “my” responsibility to light. Both lit and were working fine, when I heard a slight “snickering” coming from the main camp tent. My body was thawing out with the warming effect that was emitting from the heater, so I ignored the snickering and continued with the “task” at hand.
Upon finishing the job, I looked over to where the paper was supposed to be. Like a flash of lightning I knew what the snickering was all about. Blood rushed to my head. Thoughts of some of my hunting buddies “body parts” strewn around the camp, danced through my head. I looked to the left, then the right, frantically looking all around the tent for any substitute, for the missing paper. Suddenly I felt the “throne” tipping slightly sideways. Jerking myself upright, I over-corrected. Me and the “throne” went over. Of course it was in the direction of where my clothes lay. Here I was, in pain, scratched up, bloody, and beaten from the events of this morning. Now I am half laying, half sitting on my clothes with the contents of the “throne” oozing all around me.
That was how the day STARTED, in the interest of leaving some space on this server, some other time I will have to tell you how the rest of the day went. The above mentioned story was the BEST part of the day.
Happy, you did say that it did not have to be a true story.
(and a good thing it isn’t)
Oh by the way, not an entry, was just for fun.