My father, the deer hunter, loved to travel. I still remember his advice. “Go to Venice, son.“
Careful how you slice up that wild game carcass: You don’t want to make a big moose steak!
The man who loved hunting was charged with big gamey.
Elite hunters can kill pigeons with a bow and arrow in pitch darkness. They do it by studying a coo sticks.
Editorials in Venison magazine always start off the same way: ‘Deer Eater…’
Life is like hunting. There are no easy antlers.
How to catch a kangaroo? Hire a boundy hunter.
If you hunt aquatic mammals in the arctic, your fate is sealed.
The hard-luck hunter preyed and preyed.
French hunters love grapefruit. It’s what lets them pump le moose.