Friends, if you’re anything like me, then you hate doves with a deep and troubling passion.
Nothing makes my blood boil quite like the sight of a newborn dove, just flying around all serene and awful. It’s enough to make you want to wring their little dove necks until they are still and silent.
Well now, here’s your chance! Thanks to Argentina’s rampant infestation of Golden Eared doves, American hunters are welcome to come down to Argentina and blow as many doves out of the sky as they can! Hurry down, these doves won’t last forever!
See you in hell, doves! Glory, hallelujah!
I talked a bit with my cousin’s husband Jason who spent some time at a hunting resort down in Argentina recently. He said the resort’s record for dove kills in a single day was over 4,000 by a Spaniard who alternated between three different shotguns to avoid overheating them. This is probably the greatest accomplishment by a Spaniard since Francisco Pizarro slaughtered the Incas in similar fashion. Jason told me that in regions of Argentina, the doves fill the sky like swarms of mosquitoes and destroy crops. He also described the pleasure doing a cannonball into a swimming pool basin filled with dead doves – apparently the dull, feathery crunch lifts the spirits like nothing else.
A dove-slaughtering vacation to South America sounds like a page taken from the JLP Travel Guide! Join me next month for a violent dove bloodbath on the lush pampas of Argentina! Together, we shall indiscriminately slay and mutilate doves by day, and feast on juicy, succulent dove-meat by night. It will be the greatest display of American might since Teddy Roosevelt stormed up San Juan hill!
Dove slaughter ’98!
What’s with the hand on the shoulder in that first picture?
Second honeymoon?
Earl, when we get done with this photo, I’m going to throw you down in this pile of dead doves and make sweet love to you.
What happens in Argentina stays in Argentina.
I thought he was trying to comfort the inconsolable sobbing of the guy which was why he’s wearing sunglasses. Innocence lost. The son finally realizes his father is one sick son of a bitch and could very well make good on every threat he made to the boy while growing up.
Let it out. It’s good to kill doves and cry.
I can hear Prince singing now………
You could do the same thing to muskrats in parts of North Dakota a few years ago. Well, except the whole blocking out the sun part. I don’t think they did that, but it was certainly legal to shoot any muskrat you saw outside of city limits.