G'Damn Sity Slickers.

Like'n the great cuntrymusic star (Luke Dodge) says, I's lucky nough to be frum a little slice of heaven called South Dakota. I think me and Luke could make some damn fine kickin' kountry if we got together and did a little thinkin' bout songs and stuffs. I grew up just like every little kid out in the country, doin chores, ropin' steers, lyin' on the riverbank, painting our names on tha watertank, miscountin all the beer you drank. I played a little baseball, helped out on Grandpa's farm.

All that's great, but I think the song already got wrote. I'm'n thinkin that Luke and I need to focus on my favorite activity, shootin' shit. Luke and I'll get to that ventually, right now I need to talk about a little pet Peav of mine. Every year I pack my things and head east for the Christmas season, I usually get to go out and shoot shit at least a few times while I'm home, Pheasants are my most favorite. Every year before I leave, someone asks me to "catch them a bird or two," or when I get back, someone says "did you catch any birds while you were home?" You know what I said? I says to the guy, I says, "You gotta be a goddamn moron to ask me a question like that with a straight face." Or I says, "You must be the dummest sumofabitch I ever seen to think I catch birds, don't ever talk to me again."

You folks really think we look like this when we head out to bring home supper? Or do you think we catch'em like this?
Hey look he caught a trophy, look at the tail feather, he'll look good flyin on the wall above the davenport in the guest room.
This dumb Pheasant thought he could sneak out the end of the field.
Well, enough about that, I'm gonna go catch me a big one.