Smart Red
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According to Darwin's Theory, the gene pool will soon be a bit smaller. What an utterly ridiculous idea.
Garden humor thread..
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Ridgerunner
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Doesn't that rope-a-deer story remind you of a Will Rogers or maybe Grandpa Jones routine? I can even see Minnie Pearl telling that one about her brother. I think that is more a figmentation of someone's imagination that a real life story.
Ridgerunner
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A typical Minnie Pearl story about her brother, told from memory so some liberties taken.
Brother walks into a blacksmith shop and picks up a horse shoe. The blacksmith was working with that shoe and it was still hot. Brother immediately drops the shoe.
Blacksmith "Hot, ain't it?"
Brother "Nope. Just doesn't take me long to look at a horseshoe."
Brother walks into a blacksmith shop and picks up a horse shoe. The blacksmith was working with that shoe and it was still hot. Brother immediately drops the shoe.
Blacksmith "Hot, ain't it?"
Brother "Nope. Just doesn't take me long to look at a horseshoe."
Smart Red
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Not the way I heard it.
Brother walks into a blacksmith shop and picks up a horse shoe. The blacksmith stops working with that shoe. Bill Belichick runs into the shop and says to Brother, "You're hired! Put down that horse and come to practice."
Brother walks into a blacksmith shop and picks up a horse shoe. The blacksmith stops working with that shoe. Bill Belichick runs into the shop and says to Brother, "You're hired! Put down that horse and come to practice."
thistlebloom
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I heard that joke when I was working at a nursery and drilling drain holes in the bottom of ceramic pots. The owners husband came by to say hello and as we chatted I finally got the bit through the pot and then for some inscrutable reason touched the drill bit. "Hot ain't it?" he said. And then "That reminds me of a joke...."
Ridgerunner
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When I was in fifth grade I went to the Grand Ole Opry at the old Ryman Auditorium in Nashvile. I was not a fan of country music and really wasn't looking forward to it. But once I got there it was fantastic. A lot of pickin' 'n grinnin', some really good entertainment. I got to see some good storytellers too, like Grandpa Jones and Minnie Pearl. That night is where Minnie's joke came from.
Pulsegleaner
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The story (or rather one of the details) does in fact answer one question that always puzzled me. Back when I read about the Tarahumara Indians (famed for their running ability) I'd always been astonished at the claim that they hunted deer by basically running them to death, and always wondered how. I know the even the fastest human runners don't top more than about 35mph, and a deer can hit 40-50 easy. I guess this answers it, the deer are faster but the runner has more stamina, he can keep going long after the deer gets tired and make up the distance.
But a lot of this I sort of expected. It is likely not a complete coincidence that the word we use for what a horse does when it jumps and one of the commoner words for a male deer are the same word.
Also wasn't that deer in the car story in one of the Chris Farley/David Spade movies? Tommy Boy or Black Sheep, I think.
But a lot of this I sort of expected. It is likely not a complete coincidence that the word we use for what a horse does when it jumps and one of the commoner words for a male deer are the same word.
Also wasn't that deer in the car story in one of the Chris Farley/David Spade movies? Tommy Boy or Black Sheep, I think.
MontyJ
Deeply Rooted
That's a good one Carol!
Worst thing I ever tried with a wild animal was to try to get a snowy downed baby Great Horned Owl out of a nest in the side of cliff back home in S. Texas. We were rattlesnake hunting and saw mama fly out of a hole in the side of the cliff. The side of the cliff was awash with owl droppings so we knew it was a nest, about 30 feet up. Being young and not very educated in the defensive habits of the Great Horned Owl, I decided to have a look. Luck for me, the cliff face was not completely vertical, but was close to probably 60°-70°.
When I looked in, I saw three white babies and thought it would be a good idea to try to raise one as a pet. Man, that was a bad idea. My two friends started screaming at me, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Turns out, they were saying "WATCH OUT!!!"
Mama Owl hit me square in the center of the back, and boy was she pissed! It felt like being hit with a cannon ball. We went a** over tea-kettle back down the cliff, elbows and feathers flying. She flew off, leaving me bloody, bruised, and a lot smarter about the defensive habits of the Great Horned Owl.
Worst thing I ever tried with a wild animal was to try to get a snowy downed baby Great Horned Owl out of a nest in the side of cliff back home in S. Texas. We were rattlesnake hunting and saw mama fly out of a hole in the side of the cliff. The side of the cliff was awash with owl droppings so we knew it was a nest, about 30 feet up. Being young and not very educated in the defensive habits of the Great Horned Owl, I decided to have a look. Luck for me, the cliff face was not completely vertical, but was close to probably 60°-70°.
When I looked in, I saw three white babies and thought it would be a good idea to try to raise one as a pet. Man, that was a bad idea. My two friends started screaming at me, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Turns out, they were saying "WATCH OUT!!!"
Mama Owl hit me square in the center of the back, and boy was she pissed! It felt like being hit with a cannon ball. We went a** over tea-kettle back down the cliff, elbows and feathers flying. She flew off, leaving me bloody, bruised, and a lot smarter about the defensive habits of the Great Horned Owl.
MontyJ
Deeply Rooted
Dew might remember Terry and the deer in the car. Terry is her friends uncle.
digitS'
Garden Master
Quadrupeds suspend their weight. Bipeds balance their weight. (An owl is a biped with really nasty feet ...
)Think of a quadruped with wonderful agility and strength - the house cat. Think of taking it for a walk. I used to have 2 dogs and 2 cats and lived where I could walk from my home for hours and not see another residence. The dogs were game. The cats often made a start. A half mile at most would be the end point for them. They would rejoin dogs and me on our way back home. Blinking away their catnaps ...
The story on the hunters is they must be able to keep pressure on the quarduped prey. It may take several days of neither the hunter nor the hunted getting much rest.
Imagine the buck looking back over his shoulder, "Who is that guy? Whoever he is, he's beginning to get on my nerves ..."
Steve
