You know when you’ve never been hunting, you kind of have this sweet conception of hunting where you’re with a few ex-marines and your faces are painted so all you can see is the whites of each others’ eyes and you have a big-ass gun and you’re all slithering around on the ground or crouching behind trees or in ditches stalking like a rhinoceros or a saber toothed tiger? And you’re wearing those sweet Aussie hats like the one Bob Peck wears in Jurassic park when he’s stalking that one dino but it turns out that the dino’s partner is actually stalking him and he says, “clever girl” and then gets eaten? (I also want to mention here how much I love and respect Miguel Sandoval and White Hertford – they will live in my heart forever, not that they’re dead or anything, maybe just to the cinematic world).
So, let’s just say I didn’t get to say “clever girl.”
A lot of other obscenities came out of me while I was tunneling my way through thick brush, blackberry brambles and trees in an attempt to sweep through the forests and scare out any bore that might be hanging out. I also learned a new French word, alé, which sounds like alay and can be said in lots of different ways including the long, sad, alaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaahhhh. You say it this way when you realize that you’re actually being consumed by blackberry tentacles and that you might have to be rescued by one of the 80 year old French men who’s easily making his way through this crap, with his 80 year old dog (in dog years) who’s scampering around your feet just teasing you. ALEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Pictures after the jump!