I've told this on a few sites and been told I owe some guys new keyboards who were drinking something as the read it. It's a true story although there was so much to it there's times I forget parts, it was funny right up to the end when I found out the guy was not pulling my leg as I thought he was all along.
I was tired of having to drive anywhere from an hour to several hours to find good places to shoot ground squirrels, so I got creative, and put an ad in our local little advertising paper called the Goldpanner. My first one needed some definite modification, as I failed to make a distinction between ground squirrels and tree squirrels. I ran it like this.
Got Problem Squirrels?
I'll come out and humanely eradicate your problem squirrels, I'm using a new .17 caliber rifle that's as safe as it gets to use on farms and ranches.
This resulted in every tree hugging, PETA loving, humane society freak in northern California and possibly Nevada too calling me reading me the riot act about shooting tree squirrels. I was told it was illegal to shoot tree squirrels, I was yelled at, cussed at, called a murdering butcher, it got totally ridiculous.
My wife after being on the receiving end of some of these bleeding hearts said, "Keith, you have to say it's not grey squirrels you are looking to shoot, this is getting ridiculous". I responded with a "tell me something I don't know".
So the new ad specified ground squirrels and the hate calls were almost eliminated, that or every rabidly anti hunting nut had already called me six times each. I actually started getting calls from ranchers within fifteen or twenty minutes of me, it was great. People were paying me to kill squirrels in horse pastures and hay fields because of the way the holes get huge as the colonies get bigger. I was targeting times when they were out and getting as many as 20 or 30 squirrels in an hour or two.
But I digress, a call came in that started like a PETA call, the guy sounded fresh out of the Ozarks with a thick hillbilly accent,
He opens up with a "er you da guy that murders the squirrels?"
Caught a bit flat footed I quickly responded with a "well I prefer to think of it as getting rid of problem squirrels that are doing damage".
He says, "Wall I gotta problem squirrel fer ya, I gotta squirrel thet bit ma 8 year ole boy in the testicles and made im havta have a premature circumcision".
Now you have to picture this all being said in a full on sing songy hillbilly cadence, pre ma ture cir cum ci sion with all the spaces in between, it's hilarious.
I like to have choked and started laughing. The phone went dead silent and I thought the guy had hung up on me, I stopped laughing and asked are you still there?
He waits a few seconds and with this totally outraged voice asks me, "what the F*ck is so funny about a squirrel biting my son in the testicles to whar he had to have a premature circumcision".
I like to have died trying to sound serious, but I managed to get out a perfectly sincere, "Nothing, I don't know what I was thinking laughing about that, what a tragedy".
Meanwhile I'm thinking I'm getting worked by a true champion world class leg puller, my grandfather was world class so I'm pretty good at recognizing it.
He says "wall dont do it agin, it ain't funny". I tell him "okay I won't", which turned out to be one of the harder promises I've ever made.
So I got back on track and said, so tell me about your problem squirrel. I almost died trying not to laugh from asking that question so seriously.
He says, "wall, ma boy were sittin in the livin room when this squirrel attacked him and bit im in da testicles and had to have him get a premature circumcision".
It took me 15 seconds or so to not laugh and formulate my next serious question, which I think was pretty good considering I was about to bust. I asked with a dead serious tone, "what was the squirrel doing in the livin room?"
He says, "wall ya havta unnerstan we been remodelin for a few years an we took da floor out to whar we have some boards on da dirt, so thars a squirrel that sorta has a hole in da livin room. He were a real frienly little thang at first but pretty soon started gettin mean an actin like it were hid livin room, heck it got to whar da dog wone even go in dar.
After composing myself from the last round of silently being in hysterics as he's talking, I pulled myself together enough to ask him what he wanted me to do.
He says, "A'll tell ya what ah wan you ta do, I wan you to F*ck dat squarrel up, I wan you ta use da biggest gun ya have and mess him up, but I really wan ya to sorta wound him a bit ta whar ma boy can mess him up with a baseball bat. Poor little fella walks aroun sorta afraid wid his head hangin, Ah need to do somethin ta get his confidence back a bit.
So after pulling myself together a bit I asked him where he lived, I'd see what I could do. He lived right in town in the old gold rush area of hundred plus year old homes. I told him I couldn't shoot a rifle in the middle of town, the best I'd be able to do was use a pellet rifle and that was actually illegally discharging a firearm in city limits.
He begged me to help him so I said I'd come up and check things out.
I got on the phone with a few friends and we laughed for a couple of hours, everyone thought he had to be jerking my chain, but I didn't think so, there was something way too genuine about the guy and it was my opinion that nobody could be as good as this guy was, nobody could even make up anything like this.
So I called the hospital as the guy had said it had happened a couple of weeks ago, and I asked at the ER desk if they had had an eight year old boy who had been brought in that had been bit by a squirrel in the testicles. She immediately got all serious and said yes, it was horrible as the boy had had to have both testicles removed so he'd have to be on hormones for the rest of his life.
I felt like I'd been sucker punched in the stomach.
I went out to the guy's house and we used a powder that you light that gasses out their holes. Yes, he was for real, as impossible as it sounded. He was a nice guy, definitely a bit country, but a real nice guy.
I was tired of having to drive anywhere from an hour to several hours to find good places to shoot ground squirrels, so I got creative, and put an ad in our local little advertising paper called the Goldpanner. My first one needed some definite modification, as I failed to make a distinction between ground squirrels and tree squirrels. I ran it like this.
Got Problem Squirrels?
I'll come out and humanely eradicate your problem squirrels, I'm using a new .17 caliber rifle that's as safe as it gets to use on farms and ranches.
This resulted in every tree hugging, PETA loving, humane society freak in northern California and possibly Nevada too calling me reading me the riot act about shooting tree squirrels. I was told it was illegal to shoot tree squirrels, I was yelled at, cussed at, called a murdering butcher, it got totally ridiculous.
My wife after being on the receiving end of some of these bleeding hearts said, "Keith, you have to say it's not grey squirrels you are looking to shoot, this is getting ridiculous". I responded with a "tell me something I don't know".
So the new ad specified ground squirrels and the hate calls were almost eliminated, that or every rabidly anti hunting nut had already called me six times each. I actually started getting calls from ranchers within fifteen or twenty minutes of me, it was great. People were paying me to kill squirrels in horse pastures and hay fields because of the way the holes get huge as the colonies get bigger. I was targeting times when they were out and getting as many as 20 or 30 squirrels in an hour or two.
But I digress, a call came in that started like a PETA call, the guy sounded fresh out of the Ozarks with a thick hillbilly accent,
He opens up with a "er you da guy that murders the squirrels?"
Caught a bit flat footed I quickly responded with a "well I prefer to think of it as getting rid of problem squirrels that are doing damage".
He says, "Wall I gotta problem squirrel fer ya, I gotta squirrel thet bit ma 8 year ole boy in the testicles and made im havta have a premature circumcision".
Now you have to picture this all being said in a full on sing songy hillbilly cadence, pre ma ture cir cum ci sion with all the spaces in between, it's hilarious.
I like to have choked and started laughing. The phone went dead silent and I thought the guy had hung up on me, I stopped laughing and asked are you still there?
He waits a few seconds and with this totally outraged voice asks me, "what the F*ck is so funny about a squirrel biting my son in the testicles to whar he had to have a premature circumcision".
I like to have died trying to sound serious, but I managed to get out a perfectly sincere, "Nothing, I don't know what I was thinking laughing about that, what a tragedy".
Meanwhile I'm thinking I'm getting worked by a true champion world class leg puller, my grandfather was world class so I'm pretty good at recognizing it.
He says "wall dont do it agin, it ain't funny". I tell him "okay I won't", which turned out to be one of the harder promises I've ever made.
So I got back on track and said, so tell me about your problem squirrel. I almost died trying not to laugh from asking that question so seriously.
He says, "wall, ma boy were sittin in the livin room when this squirrel attacked him and bit im in da testicles and had to have him get a premature circumcision".
It took me 15 seconds or so to not laugh and formulate my next serious question, which I think was pretty good considering I was about to bust. I asked with a dead serious tone, "what was the squirrel doing in the livin room?"
He says, "wall ya havta unnerstan we been remodelin for a few years an we took da floor out to whar we have some boards on da dirt, so thars a squirrel that sorta has a hole in da livin room. He were a real frienly little thang at first but pretty soon started gettin mean an actin like it were hid livin room, heck it got to whar da dog wone even go in dar.
After composing myself from the last round of silently being in hysterics as he's talking, I pulled myself together enough to ask him what he wanted me to do.
He says, "A'll tell ya what ah wan you ta do, I wan you to F*ck dat squarrel up, I wan you ta use da biggest gun ya have and mess him up, but I really wan ya to sorta wound him a bit ta whar ma boy can mess him up with a baseball bat. Poor little fella walks aroun sorta afraid wid his head hangin, Ah need to do somethin ta get his confidence back a bit.
So after pulling myself together a bit I asked him where he lived, I'd see what I could do. He lived right in town in the old gold rush area of hundred plus year old homes. I told him I couldn't shoot a rifle in the middle of town, the best I'd be able to do was use a pellet rifle and that was actually illegally discharging a firearm in city limits.
He begged me to help him so I said I'd come up and check things out.
I got on the phone with a few friends and we laughed for a couple of hours, everyone thought he had to be jerking my chain, but I didn't think so, there was something way too genuine about the guy and it was my opinion that nobody could be as good as this guy was, nobody could even make up anything like this.
So I called the hospital as the guy had said it had happened a couple of weeks ago, and I asked at the ER desk if they had had an eight year old boy who had been brought in that had been bit by a squirrel in the testicles. She immediately got all serious and said yes, it was horrible as the boy had had to have both testicles removed so he'd have to be on hormones for the rest of his life.
I felt like I'd been sucker punched in the stomach.
I went out to the guy's house and we used a powder that you light that gasses out their holes. Yes, he was for real, as impossible as it sounded. He was a nice guy, definitely a bit country, but a real nice guy.
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