when i was 6, my grandfather took me duck hunting because he wanted me to be a rugged, gun-loving American like all the other men in my family. i spent the entire trip crying uncontrollably on the back of his four-wheeler because guns are loud and ducks are cool, and i embarrassed him in front of his hunting buddies who already thought i was a pansy. so yeah, in case you were wondering, not much has changed! except i’m estranged from my family now, and i still think ducks are pretty cool!
be nice to us please! we are very scared all the time!