The deer Hunt (A Joke)

Okay so the other day my mom was digging though some old papers of hers and found this.....I think it's funny myself.....

1:00 AM Alarm clock rings.
2:00 AM Hunting partners arrive, Drag you out of bed.
2:30 AM Leave for the deep woods.
3:15 AM Drive back home to pick up gun.
3:30 AM Dive like hell to get to the woods before daylight.
4:00 AM Set up camp, Forgot the damn tent.
4:30 AM Head for woods.
6:05 AM See eight deer.
6:06 AM Take aim, squeeze trigger.
6:07 AM CLICK!
6:08 AM load gun while waching deer go over the hill
8:00 AM Head bak to camp.
9:00 Still looking for camp
10:00 AM Realize you don't know where camp is.
NOON Fire gun for help -- eat wild berries
12:15 PM Run out of bullets -- eight deer come back
12:20 PM Strange feeling in your stomach
12:30 PM Relize you ate poison berries
12:45 PM Rescued.
12:55 PM Rushed to Hospital to have stomach Pumped.
3:00 PM Arive back at camp.
3:30 PM Leave camp to kill a deer.
4:00 PM Return to camp for bullets.
4:01 PM Load gun leave camp again.
5:00 PM Emty gun on squirrl that has been bugging you.
6:00 PM Arive at camp -- see deer grazeing in camp.
6:01 PM Load Gun.
6:02 PM Fire gun
6:03 PM One dead pick-up
6:05 PM Hunting partner arrives in camp dragging a deer.
6:06 PM Repress desire to shoot hunting partner.
6:07 PM Fall into fire.
6:10 PM change clothes, throw burned ones into fire!
6:15 PM Take pick-up, leave hunting partner and his deer at camp.
6:25 PM Pick-up boils over, hole shot in the block.
6:26 PM start walking.
6:30 PM Stumble and fall, drop gun in the mud.
6:35 PM Meet Bear.
6:36 PM Take aim.
6:37 PM Fire gun, blow up barrel clogged with mud.
6:38 PM Mess pants.
6:39 PM Climb tree.
9:00 PM Bear leaves. Wrap @#%#@*!! gun around tree!
MIDNIGHT Home at last!
SUNDAY Wach football game on TV, slowly tearing up hunting licence into small pices, place in envlope, and mail it to the game department with detailed instructions on where to place it!

Intro spoken by Tom Lehrer:
Almost every day during the hunting season you see at least one item in the newspapers about somebody who has shot somebody else, under the impression that he was a deer with a red hat perhaps, maybe a large flesh-colored squirrel. At any rate, it seems to me that this marks an encouraging new trend in the field of blood sports, and deserves a new type of hunting song which I present herewith.

I always will remember,
'Twas a year ago November,
I went out to hunt some deer
On a mornin' bright and clear.
I went and shot the maximum the game laws would allow,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.

I was in no mood to trifle,
I took down my trusty rifle
And went out to stalk my prey.
What a haul I made that day.
I tied them to my fender, and I drove them home somehow,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.

The law was very firm, it
Took away my permit,
The worst punishment I ever endured.
It turned out there was a reason,
Cows were out of season,
And one of the hunters wasn't insured.

People ask me how I do it,
And I say, "There's nothin' to it,
You just stand there lookin' cute,
And when something moves, you shoot!"
And there's ten stuffed heads in my trophy room right now,
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a pure-bred Guernsey cow.

Those timeline ones are always funny. Although the stupidity of going out with an unloaded rifle to hunt is a bit too stupid to believe.

That's a great poem Pyg. Although what the heck is a cow doing in the woods?