Well, it's been a while since I was a blogger, but I think I need to get back on this. I thought about starting a website, but I hate web editing. So I decided to go back to blogging (to get a little writing out there). The question: what do I write about?
Well, I've had some interesting life experiences over the course of my life and I have been known to spin an entertaining yarn every now and then, so I've decided to write some of my life stories down. I don't know how long this will last nor how often it will get updated, but I'll try to keep it up for a while. They won't be in any particular order, just however the stories come to me. We'll see just how raunchy/personal I will get with the stories, but I'll try to keep them entertaining. Without further ado, I'll get to the first story...
Last night I happened to be watching a comedian who wasn't particularly funny, but he brought up hitting a deer with his car. This reminded me of the two times a deer has connected with my car in the past. Both times were a few years ago now, but I felt like it would be a good starting point for this blog. The first encounter was pretty standard: it ran in front of me, I swerved, it kept running like a deaf kid chasing a bouncing ball in the street, I ran it over, it died, I swore, etc. The second encounter however, went something like this...
I used to work on a farm for about 7 years on and off. It was a summer day and I was off work early (I had to be at work at 5 am and it was about 5 pm). A nice, short, 12-hour day was a welcome thing to me, so I buggered off and didn't let my boss find anything else for me to do. As I rounded the last corner to get back to my parents' house (I was back home for the summer to save and make money), I noticed a large plume of smoke coming from the side of the road ahead of me. It was a car on fire and the guy who owned the car was along the road trying to flag me down. I asked if everything was okay (a dumb question to someone who's car is on fire), and he asked if I could give him a ride to his friend's house in town. Being the good Samaritan I am, I said sure. I asked him if he wanted me to call 9-1-1, but he said that was okay, he would from his friend's house.
I drive him back into town (about a mile back in the direction of the farm) and as I pull into his buddy's driveway he says to me, "Thanks for the ride man. I've had a couple drinks so I didn't want to be there when the cops got there." He then got out of my car and ran into the house. At this point, a couple of questions arose in my head: why was he drinking before 5 pm on a weekday? Did someone else call the cops before I got there? Did I really just inadvertently aid and abet a drunk driver?
Well, as it turns out, someone did call the cops as a police car and two fire trucks zoomed past me. Knowing they would block the road off to get to my parents' house, I decided to take an alternate route home. I drove on a couple back roads to get around the scene and as I came down a hill, something out of the corner of my eye moved and caught my attention. That something, as it turns out, was a deer, deciding the best path to the other side of the road was through the passenger side of my car. Why the deer decided to be out in the daylight and try to go through my bright red car, I don't really know, but I do know that I did not hit that animal; it hit me. The head hit right at my passenger side rearview mirror and the backside of the animal (I managed to spin it around) hit somewhere on the back fender of my car. I swore rather loudly, slowed down, and got out to assess the damages. Well, the mirror was still attached by a thread, the door handle was broken in half for that door, and there was a large dent in the rear fender caused by its ass. The reason I know it was the deer's ass that hit my rear fender was because at the back of that dent was a large splatter of crap spreading over the back of my car. Yes, I literally hit the shit out of that deer. What made me angriest though was watching the damn thing get up and limp away. I hadn't even gotten the satisfaction of killing the deer.
Well, as it turns out, when it hit the door handle, it dented it in so much that when you rolled down that window, the door would pop open. This was helpful for when I wanted to open the door up for someone from the inside without touching it, but sucked otherwise. Apparently my relatives saw a deer a couple days later in that same area limping quite badly, so I figured he just had it out for my family. I don't know, but it still angers me to this day. And that's why I enjoy eating venison so much.