Buffalo Hunting in Colorado
Plotnik's employer, OLD (On Line for Dummies), has come up with yet another kicky, kitschy, kooky poo idea. The idea is to advertise places for men to go on vacations -- men only. No women.
So they've tried to come up with things they think men would love to do, vacations for which we've all been creaming in our beers. The geographical area is anywhere across the country and price, apparently, is no object.
The only sense Plotnik can make out of this is: this is what happens when you let butch women choose for America's men. What else could it be? Here's what they've come up with so far: Hunting Buffalo in Colorado. Tasting Beer in Oregon. Road testing Jeeps in Indiana. Cars. Guns. Jeeps. Beer. There's probably a Viagra dealership somewhere that offers tasting hours on weekends. If there is, we'll have it.
How about: Sitting on the Couch Watching Football? They haven't settled on that one yet, but they will. How about Ripping Up our Alimony Payments? Men love that, right? How about: A Reading Group of Fart Books? Coo-oool!
OK, Plot is starting to sound like Ducknik did when the subject of Martha Stewart came up. Nobody likes to see their side trashed, even if that wasn't the idea.
So The Great Plotnik will admit that he spoke on the phone yesterday to the man whose 62,000 acre ranch in Colorado is where the buffalo hunting takes place. It's ridiculously expensive, but, if hunting and Plottie were in the same atmosphere, going out on horseback to track a buffalo might sound like fun.
If it weren't for the shooting part. Look at this picture. The hunter here seems really happy. He got his buck bison. Wow. Cool. Fantastic. Yowzer. Now what?
5 Comments:
Aaack. My job with the dance divas and NYC are looking better to me suddenly.
Did the buffalo get to fight with a gun too? This sounds like a horrible assignment, I'd rather clean the kitchen of Martha Stewart...
Cars? Guns? Jeeps? Beer? They're not really trying. How about a 70-Sports-Bars-in-7-Days trek? What about an Eat-Your-Way-Across-
America-at-Hooters-Restaurants convoy?
Or the Brothels-of-Nevada tour? Aah, the possibilities are endless.
I don't know about buffalo hunts or beer bashes, but kooky poo is an excellent adjective combo, and I just may steal it at some point when I'm resting and writing, after cleaning every last speck of dust off the highest moldings in my kitchen (while the 100 percent organic raw cream puffs are cooking).
Give me an hour in a bulldozer and point me at a building that needs to come down. Even better, let me pick the building.
Shooting a large unarmed cow?
Post a Comment
<< Home