A canned hunt is a trophy hunt in which an animal is kept in a confined area, such as in a fenced-in area, increasing the likelihood of the hunter obtaining a kill. According to one dictionary, a canned hunt is a “hunt for animals that have been raised on game ranches until they are mature enough to be killed for trophy collections.”
If, like me, you ask, “What the fuck is a trophy hunt?” here’s a little help:
Trophy hunting is the selective hunting of wild game animals. Although parts of the slain animal may be kept as a hunting trophy or memorial (usually the skin, antlers and/or head), the carcass itself is sometimes used as food.
Yup. There’s stuff going on in the world that I can’t possibly imagine.
Do you believe in love at first sight? The other day while driving my friend to the airport, my ears caught this song on his fancy premium digital radio system. I was like, “What the? This is awesome. Swoon!”
Overcome by emotion I swerved and almost crammed into a concrete barrier.
It was one of those moments where you’re floating along, from moment to moment, and not even realizing it, kind of like a feather floating on a breeze. Then, almost in self defense, your thought bubble suffers an intrusion and you become aware of something. Really aware.
That’s what happened with this song. It reached out and grabbed me. Far too quickly the moment was over so I fiercely committed the name of the musical artist to memory. Sick Puppies. I have got to get me some more of that.
You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.
Old wisdom we’ve all heard before. The Sick Puppies take such a simple idea and turn it into a transcendental experience. And it’s got a toe-tappin’ beat. The interpretation offered by this video selection is a runaway stagecoach ride of fun.
This week brought the news that a 12-year-old boy in the 8th grade took a loaded sawed-off 20 gauge pump shotgun to his school and opened fire, seriously wounding an 11-year-old boy (shot in the face) and a 13-year-old girl in the school’s gym.
cold… calculated… premeditated… random…
The New Mexico state police stated that the attack was “planned.” Part of that planning included the shooter issuing warnings to friends, advising them to stay away from school.
The 20-gauge shotgun is a type of smoothbore shotgun shell that is smaller in caliber (.615) than a 12 gauge (.729). It is often used as a beginning shooter’s practice round and is noted by its yellow hull.
A 20-gauge shotgun is sometimes considered more suitable for hunting certain types of game, because it damages less meat, which makes it suitable for most game birds.
Source: Wikipedia – 20-gauge shotgun
The firearm was obtained by the shooter from “family members,” the police said. The shooter’s Facebook page featured a picture of the shooter beside a deer he had killed during a hunting trip.
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The Zimmerman case finally got me. It jumped me from behind. And that’s a fact*.
Suddenly the internet reached out and grabbed my stomach and twisted it up in knots. Yup, yup. It’s that old time feelin’ I thought I’d left behind. If I was packing heat (concealed or otherwise) I’d likely have squeezed off a few rounds because I decidedly felt “threatened.”
You know the feeling. That moment when an internet discussion and/or debate turns ugly. No longer is it about the issue at hand. It turns into a nasty round of insults, personal attacks and spates of unfriending. That sort of drama leaves me unsettled and upset, often going back to a discussion and pounding “refresh” just to review the replies. I though that sort of thing was behind me, but Zimmerman tells me it is not.
I know I’m supposed to keep politics and religion away from Facebook. I had predicted that because of fucked up laws and a no-win scenario George Zimmerman would be found not guilty. Then, Saturday, it actually happened. I hate being right.
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