I remember as a kid my Dad and all the guys would go hunting. Sometime some of them would bring home deer. They’d string them up and let the blood drain from their bodies before taking them to Uncle Darrel’s to be butchered.
Then we’d have hamburger or summer sausage. I’ve never really been a big fan of venison. It’s got a distinct flavor to it that I just can’t seem to get past my lips. Yep… I’m that girl.
I did a short stint working for my Uncle out at the Meat Market. Wasn’t my favorite job due to the cunt who worked there and was dating my cousin at the time? She’s just another punch to the cunt bitch I never want to see again. I heard she got wrecked in a car crash… thank you karma. J
My point being… I’ve seen lots of dead deer. Which is the way I prefer them to be. Now living out in the country I see the furry bastard more and more. Usually in the road or just off the shoulder which causes me to have a tiny little heart attach! I miss the days of carrying their processed remains in paper bags and their severed heads out to the hunters that shot them.
I hate deer… I loath deer.
Last December I made my first contact with a gang of deer on my way to school. As my car came skidding to a screeching halt and the deer started to… well what I can only describe as “double dutching” in front of my car… I almost manage to miss impact. Unfortunately, the deer decided to kick my car causing my bumper to shatter.
I spent about 20 minutes McGyver’ing my wheel well liner all back together so it would rub on my tires so I can get back on the road. I wasn’t very happy as you can tell from my initial post on Facebook:
“To the deer that I hit today: I hope you are bleeding out slowing alone in a cold damp ditch somewhere with death glooming over you. If at all possible please hoof yourself closer to Hwy 120 so that I can find you in the morning and slit your fucking throat with the shrapnel that was once part of my bumper and beat your head in with my now loosened fog light! You fucking piece of shit!!!”
Luck be a lady… and one that apparently hates me… I’ve had the amazing opportunity to hit 2 more deer just a few weeks ago. This time I was on my way home from school and blazing down I43 at about 80 mph... Oh I mean at the legal speed limit of 65 mph.
Apparently, bright lights and a constant blare of the horn at (ahem) 65 mph (wink wink) will not discourage Earth’s dumbest animal from wondering out into traffic. Some maybe be wondering what the stopping distance of my car is… well it’s about 2 feet beyond deer impact. Awesome!
We’ll refer to the deer (that’s multiple) as Deer S and Deer K.
So here it is… 9:30 at night and I’ve just hit two deer. I know I hit them/it because of the horrendous noise made during contact. Its dark… impact has knocked out my head lights and I have no idea where deer S or deer K flew off too. Part of me hopes they ran off or died… part of me hopes their wounded and I will have the opportunity to stomp in their skulls.
After a quick call to Adam to let him know what’s going on I decided to call the Sheriff. After playing the “what county am I in game” the Walworth Sheriff’s department dispatch told me to dial 911. She and I quote doesn’t “think I’ll get in trouble for dialing that in a non-emergency”.
So I dial 911… get a dispatcher who contacts the sheriff for Waukesha County. Then tells me to hang tight… someone will be there soon. I learned a few things…
- Soon to them doesn’t mean the same as “soon” does to me. I sat on the side of the road with no headlights for 45 minutes.
- After dialing 911 your cell phone is completely locked out for 5 full minutes. I mean LOCKED OUT!! As in no phone calls. No text messaging. No access to Internet.
- I depend far too much on my cell phone for simply entertainment. That was the longest 5 minutes of my life.
Finally, Officer Sourpuss showed up with what I assume was the biggest stick in the county up her ass. Sorry I hit some deer and interrupted your coffee break. She assessed my damage… told me to drive home. So I pointed out that I have no head lights… and it’s now almost 11pm. She told me then I couldn’t drive my car until I replaced the head light and then pointed at the Wal-Mart in Mukwonago which I could see about 2 miles down the road.
How did she think I was going to get there? Can’t walk down I43… can’t drive with out headlights. So in my “how funny am I” voice I told her I’m driving to the Wal-Mart with my 1 working bright to replace the head lights in my car… and if she pulled me over for driving with out headlights I would lose it. She laughed and got back in her car.
Being the girl I am I called Adam to come to Wal-Mart for some quick (ha ha… not likely in a Hyundai) headlight change. As I stood there accessing the damage while on the phone with my Mom I noticed just how bad it was.
Jacked up hood, my brand new bumper was jacked up again, driver side fender, and a smear of mud all the way down my driver side. Also, a lot of fur and as a bonus some flesh and blood wedged into the fender that was all mangled around. Was I grossed out… nope… I was just happy that I speared at least one of them fuckers with my car.
The next morning as I gave Craig the very over dramatized chain of events I arrived at Starbucks where I got out of my car and noticed possible the worst discovery possible adding of insult to injury.
It was not a smear of mud down my car. It was poop!!!! They took a crap on my car! Are you kidding me… so as I was driving my dark blue spear into Deer S… there by pushing her into Deer K one of them managed to take a shit on my car? I’m blaming Deer K… asshole!
