“I need my chicken to come in drumstick form or I can’t eat it” fuck you either own the murder or change your diet coward
Most dudes i know (im from texas, home of the manly man) will do the bare minimum to prevent spoilage, but nothing beyond that. Hell, most of the guys i know go to ‘caged hunts’. with on site processing. It a hunt on a game ranch. game ranches have fences high enough that Nilgai, mule deer, whitetail and the like cannot get over.
You sleep in a lodge, someone makes your breakfast, feeds you, drives you to a blind or stand on their property, and lets you go. Some provide guns and ammunition.
After you shoot Bambi, they take the carcass, dress it, process it, and you get back some steaks and some 2lb chubbs of ground meat. Then you go back to the lodge, brag about what a stud you are, drink tequila, and let someone else cook dinner for you.
Sounds very Texas.
Last year we had to stash a deer in a creek because we still had two mountains tonget over tonget back to camp so we hiked back with packbaskets to bone it out the next day.
Once again, rednecks in upstate new york are smarter and more authentic than the Texans driving a 150k truck that’s never left pavement.
They typically are. Thousands of dollars per head, then a charge per gun.
Its a way for a man with a very fragile idea of what a man is (whatever the fuck even makes a ‘man’ a man.) to feel manly. Go outside and kill some nature. I unironically see a lot of ‘the west wasnt won on salad’ bumper stickers on Ford pick em up trucks here.
Fragile masculinity is fragile.
