I Wear My Orange Fleece Everywhere

Hunting is a big sport in these here parts. And just yesterday, the winter caretaker of the farm warned me that today is the start of deer hunting season in the immediate area.

The missus and I were discussing hunting and my getting shot a few days ago, and she was of the opinion that my fear of wandering into the woods only to get shot by a hunter was ridiculous.

When I reminded her that hunting accidents happen all the time, that indeed our former Vice President once shot a fellow hunter (and friend) in the face, she thought me no less ridiculous. I think she didn't believe that the example I cited was actually an accident.

Either way, there's a lot of hunting happening in rural Wisconsin at the moment. I picked up a little guide to the area at a local Chamber of Commerce (if I take their free stuff, am I supporting their stance against health care reform?), and according to the hunting pages (!), here are the options for hunters and trappers during the month of October:

- Black bear
- Bowwhite quail
- Cottontail rabbit
- Coyote (trapping is OK right now, hunting with a gun is OK all year)
- Crow
- Deer (bow)
- Hungarian partridge (quite far from home in its Hungarian pear tree!)
- Jackrabbit
- Pheasant (how pleasant!)
- Raccoon
- Red and gray fox (so THAT's how Red Foxx died)
- Ruffed grouse
- Squirrel
- Snowshoe hare
- Wild turkey
- Woodcock (heh, heh)
- Writers (wait, what??)

And I shit you not: I actually just heard gunfire echoing through the hills.

Not to worry, B&E readers. I spend the majority of time inside a cabin. And cabin season isn't until February.

Reason #89 to Avoid Nightclubs

I never go to nightclubs in New York City. I have many reasons for avoiding them. A few at the top include the following:

- I don't much care for dancing.
- I tend to dislike crowds.
- I'm just not that into ecstasy and crystal meth.

There are other, smaller reasons as well:

- The bouncer probably wouldn't let me in.
- The pumping techno gives me headaches.
- Slutty, sweaty crowds are a Petri dish for syphilis.

So those are really just tip-of-the-iceberg reasons I avoid nightclubs. But thanks to Plaxico Burress, wide receiver of the New York Giants, I've got one more to add to the list...

I don't want to shoot myself in the leg.

I'm not sure that this is required behavior at a Manhattan hot spot, but I'm not taking any chances.

Some 1st-Grade Teachers Shouldn't Pack Heat

Beginning this fall, teachers in one Texas school district can bring guns to school.

I was a student in the Texas public school system for three-and-a-half years, and I think I'd have trusted only one of my teachers to keep a gun in the classroom. She was my kindergarten teacher, and she was the one who fell off a horse and missed most of the school year.

If my first grade teacher had been carrying, no one in our class would have made it out of the year alive. Hell, my mom and dad kept me in speech therapy longer than necessary (I stwuggled with my R's a bit) just to give me wespite from the tywanny of my fuhst gwade classwoom.

My second grade teacher liked me particularly well, so I think I'd have survived if she was packing, but man, she had a nasty temper, and I could totally see her shooting up the classroom.

My third grade teacher was a sweet woman who, if memory allows me to project, was probably a pacifist. She'd end up shot by my first or second grade teacher.

It was after that my family moved to Kansas. I don't think I'd have trusted any of the teachers at the Lutheran school I attended to keep a gun in the classroom, especially not the one from Texas. And at the public high school? Let's face it: who doesn't want to shoot a bunch of moody teenagers?