Dear Tell All: I was very surprised at your response (3/27/09) to the woman who was dating a hunter - I would KILL for such a person! I hunt and fish proudly, and enjoy it. I would LOVE to have a chance to date the person this Bambi was/is dating. Finding a person who enjoys the outdoors, being in the woods, and having fresh fish/game rather than something chemically laden and farm-raised has no comparison. I would share my deer stand or boat with that person any day! Bonus points if he is over 50 in fact!!!! I am not concerned about domestication. I am perfectly capable of living my own life - it is just nice to have someone to occasionally share common interests. Your answer was just so totally off the mark it is not even funny. How can I track her/him down???
Badger fan, damn good fisherwoman, and careful - I hunt! Send me a picture of a deer stand, boat or chainsaw and I will reciprocate!
Dear Annie: "Your answer was just so totally off the mark it is not even funny." Ouch - just shoot me now!
All this talk of killing, chainsaws and fresh meat is making me a wee bit nervous. Call me sentimental, but I prefer my lovers unarmed and meat that isn't twitching. Meat is best the way nature intended it: hermetically sealed in plastic and Styrofoam. The more packaging between me and all those germs the better. In fact, meat should come with rubber gloves so you never have to touch it. On second thought, skip the meat; I'll just eat tofu.
I really do appreciate your email, Annie. If looking at pictures of old men wielding chainsaws turns you on, all power to you! I hope you find your cold-blooded killer. Just keep in mind that my column was in response to Bambi, who was lamenting how little she had in common with her man. It's not surprising that Bambi isn't fond of hunters. Did you see the movie? Twenty years of therapy and I still have nightmares about it.
Dear Tell All: My neighbor thinks my name is Jerry. It isn't.
I'm not sure how this started, but the first time he called me Jerry I was too embarrassed to correct him. So I let it slide. Now it's been over four years and I'm trapped. If I correct him now he'll feel horrible and say, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!!?" And if I don't correct him and continue to lead this shadowy double life, the years will march by and the problem will only become worse. It's gotten to the point where I've actually had to duck into the bushes to avoid having him introduce me to a new neighbor, where the charade would grow exponentially.
How do I get out of this mess?
Name withheld to protect the innocent
Dear Jerry: You're screwed. You better move.
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