Sport Hunter

April 30th, 2007 . by contemptster

Erectile dysfunction is no laughing matter. That’s why I hunt for sport. Killing innocent and defenseless animals with high tech weaponry gives me all the boners I need. Sneaking up on and murdering gentle animals is a bigger adrenaline rush than all the date raping me and my buddies did back in college combined. Hey, don’t hate the hunter. Hate the game.

Sure, some may say that it’s not fair because the animals don’t get to have weapons, too. How could they possibly fire a gun with those hooves of theirs? That’s why I don’t hunt monkeys because even though I don’t believe in evolution, something tells me they could figure out how to shoot a gun. I suppose if I came up behind one with piano wire or threw a grenade it might work. Nah, too risky. Note to self: make sure monkeys never use weapons.

Contempty says: We all know that hunting is just an excuse for you to dress up and wear make-up. Guess what? We’re not impressed, tough guy. Since I can’t shoot you, strap you to the roof of my car, stuff you and prop you up in my house (I am just a mosquito, afterall), the next time you go out hunting I’m going to bite you and give you West Nile Virus. How do ya like me now, dickhead?!

Practice killing animals here!

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