Hey kids (and Feas), yer hurtin’ my heart here damn it.
M0rd, my Alaskan bud goes back to the early ‘60s.
We’ve been thru some scrapes together.
He’s put himself thru hell and back several times, rafted over a falls (wife and brother died), crashed his bike (face and shoulder messed up), crashed his Cessna (walked away), got his kayak jammed under a log, upside down (thought he was dead), other things…..
I hate him because he abides on my isle, hunts my elk and deer, catches my king salmon, and eats like a hog, never gaining an ounce.
I’m down in Oregon, grubbin’ for fin clipped steelhead, getting a 50 lb salmon about once a decade, chasing black tail deer the size of dogs, and puttin’ on poundage just smellin’ my lady’s cookin’.
Yeah, I hate him.
I could easily beat on his craggy ol’ ass without remorse.
He’s hit on every woman I’ve had.
Bought the same damn vehicle I bought once.
Talks in excruciating droning detail about the proper maintenance of a backhoe.
Has a witless sense of humor.
Scrutinizes and analyses every blessed thing I say.
…….. and I love him.
I’d give my life for him
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