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THIS IS NOT SOMETHING YOU WOULD BE INTERESTED IN

WARNING: PROLONGED EXPOSURE TO THE CONTENTS OF THIS SITE COULD BE HAZADEROUS TO MY REPUTATION






WELL CAN YOU TELL I MIGHT LIKE ANIMALS.
So I have put to gether a poor excuse for a web site on their behalf.

Like I was saying, i'm a mother fucking animal freak who if made president would kill execution style anyone causing harm to an animal.

MUSIC TO RAG BY

Hendrix: Little Wing
Zappa: Montana
Van Halen: Jump
Sleepwalk: Very Cool
Stevie Vaughn: Mary Had A Little Lamb





This page will deal with opinions and articles that might be of interest to some people. You might find a link or two taking you somewhere somewhat bizzar. But I will warn you if the subject matter could be considered some what offensive.


DEAR ABBY


Not to ruin anyones good mood or anything
but this is an article appearing in a paper some time ago
and it deserves a little attention.

Dear Abby: Now that hunting season is here
and I see the birds heading south for the winter,
I am reminded of a poignant poem
you published about a goose whose mate was killed by a hunter.

Knowing that geese mate only once in a lifetime,
I was moved to tears when I read it.
Please publish it again. - A Hunter's Wife, Mankato, Minn.


A HUNTERS POEM


A hunter shot at a flock of geese
That flew within his reach.
Two were stopped in their rapid flight

And fell on the sandy beach.
The male bird lay at the water's edge

And juyst before he died
He faintly called to his wounded mate

And she dragged herself to his side.

She bent her head and crooned to him

In a way distressed and wild
Caressing her one and only mate
As a mother would a child.
Then covering him with her broken wing

And gasping with failing breath
She laid her head against his breast

A feeble honk...then death.
This story is true though crudely told

I was the man in this case.
I stood knee-deep in snow and cold
And the hot tears buned my face.
I buried the birds in the sand where they lay

Wrapped in my hunting coat
And I threw my gunand belt in the bay.

When I crossed in the open boat.
Hunters will call me a right poor sport

And scoff at the thing I did.
But that day something broke in my heart

And shoot again? God forbid!


Lemuel T Ward


Hope you enjoyed the poem. If you didnt...
your an asshole, so fuck ya.


Oh by the way, if your would like to tell me how much this page sucks so far and how sorry you are to have wasted your time reading this shit that I type to fill space since I have no better copy. Click
Here!
If thant didn't work your outta luck I guess. Tough Shit! Stick a ball up your ass and quack.
C-ya bye.

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