UnrealisticExpectations 3.0

For as slow as certain things are in my life, other parts seem to just rock and roll!

Annabelle Gurwitch has been out promoting her book and the documentary she made to promote Fired!  It’s pretty cool, but at the same time it’s sort of given me a little extra to do with my “spare” time.  It’s pretty damned exciting to watch something you’ve worked on (the website) as everything around it blooms.  I should also mention that all of the reviews are absolutely glowing and mark it as about as hilarious as you could imagine stories of famous folk who have been fired.

It’s nice to see that they came from where we are, and I’m not being smarmy about it–almost makes it seem as if they’ve earned their station and takes a lot of the “out of touch with reality” bullshit that we often associate with Hollywood.

Just saying.

Over the weekend, I went pheasant hunting with my friends and neighbors.  Granted, they’re one and the same, but isn’t it cool that over the course of half of a year I’ve come to know these people so well and we’re all doing things together?  Sure, we’ve all got our little weirdness ticks and stuff, but damned if I don’t like them all more and more all the time.

For what it’s worth, I shot 5 pheasants and punted 1, giving me a real kill value of 5.5ish.

Since we put out 24 birds and we took home a total of 16 and there were 4 of us… well, you can do the math, but I did pretty damn good.

One bird that I shot was flushed out by our guide dog and Nuge (neighbor John, happens to look a helluva lot like Ted Nugent and possibly one of the nicest tough guys you’d ever meet).  The bird circled around toward me–Tim and Jim were behind me with their guns, but couldn’t shoot since I was there and not only are we respectful of someone else’s shot, but we won’t pull a Cheney.

I took an easy aim and pulled my trigger.  There was almost too much time for this to happen…but my aim was true.  There was the BANG! of my 20 gauge and the puff of feathers, followed by the bird breaking its own flying pattern and beginning its descent.  I raised my arms over my head and yelled something ridiculous like, “Who’s The Daddy!” and the bird’s trajectory led it down to earth where it promptly bounced right between my unmoven legs, brushing me as it went past.

In my mind, it was the kill of the day.

We took our 16 birds home–15 cleaned, 1 to be stuff for Tim–and got ready for the Pheasant Fry.  Many, many hours, beers and more food than you could imagine–Beer Bread, Pheasant and Brown Rice and Mushrooms, Pheasant Quesadillas, Teriyaki Pheasant, various dips, sauces, breads and ridiculously insane delicious desserts and a whole bunch of GoldenTee from the basement arcade and people finally called it a night.

That was around 1am.  We started around 4.30pm.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Sunday was followed-up with the purchase of a 55″ HDTV to add to my living room.

Sopranos in HD is the cat’s ass.

I may have said it before, but life is good.  Even if I’ve just rambled about nothing.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 16th, 2006 at 11:29 am and is filed under Bloggy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.