Letter: Won’t kill but will grill
So, my tree-hugging, bunny-loving friend tore me up. She said, “How could I be happy that hunting season is here? How could I murder an elk? I would like a tenderloin or back strap, though.” Eh? She gonna get up at 4 a.m. and slog a few miles uphill? Gonna help gut, process and carry it out? Think not. Stick to your packaged-denial ribeye. Nice leather boots she wears, though.
Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Aspen
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