Opening day of Deer season and I find myself partaking of an eight-point buck weighing in over two hundred pounds. The coolest part is I didn't even put the slug barrel on my gun.

Last night, just before midnight I got the call: "hey I need you to come help me gut and skin a deer." Usually when i get this kind of call in the middle of the night it's to butcher a deer completely and ger everything cleaned up before light and the neighbors might notice and rat out to the DEC. In this case it was an entirely different deal. someone hit this beastie right in front of my brother. He gladly took the tag the sherriff issued and called me up.
as it turns out the poor bastard was very uncooperative about getting his skin off. I'm thinking if I do this much more often I am gonna have to make a good skinner. His starboard quarter took the force of the bimbobox (and incidentally did some fairly serious harm to the minivan too), so it appears to be good for nothing but sausage or dog food. but the rest of him is prime jerky just waiting to be made.