My Distressing Discovery at The Man Store, and a Few Pretty Pictures To Hopefully Delete All Memory of What You Are About To Read...

Did you know there are only 12 days left until Christmas? Is anyone else as freaked out by that as I am? Golly. Have I got a lot of wrapping and packaging and mailing to do. Not to mention actual shopping, cause I'm not done. Joy to the world!

Anyway. It was a weekend. Not exactly eventful, but not entirely lame either. On Saturday, Matthew and I went to Cabela's, which is this hugely epic hunting/outdoorsmen type store, in case you've never heard of it. We went there to get Matthew's Christmas presents; namely, more items for his emergency bag (and a few other miscellaneous man trinkets).

So while Matthew was looking at guy things, boredom began to set in. So I wandered. I examined the seemingly billions of taxidermied birds and bison and elk and antelope, craning my neck to better view the high walls lined with magnificent mounted creatures. There was even an enormous, roped off cliff display thing. Here... see?

"Woa" is right. This place was intense.

When I saw all there was to see, I began to wander up and down aisles, just to kill time. I daydreamed of the moment I'd be free of this terrifying excuse for a shopping establishment.

And that's when I saw it.

The "Butt Out."

People, I about DIED. I let out a little gasp right there in the aisle (before subsequently photographing the product), and then I went RUNNING through the store to find my husband, where I shrieked and wailed that he is a terrible, horrible person for hunting and defiling the animals in such a manner, and I ranted on the cruel and disgusting nature of this so-called "hobby" or "sport." I demanded to know if he had ever used the "butt out" product, and Matthew replied that, yes, indeed he had. He said that if you don't "take the butt out" it will "spoil the meat," so it is entirely necessary and, obviously, doesn't hurt the animal because it is already deceased. I continued to demonstrate my abhorrence for the remainder of our outing, and later, when the topic was revisited on the drive home, Matthew made this argument; and I quote:

"It's just like any hamburger - any steak! What do you think a rump roast is? It's the rear of a cow, and they have to take the ass out. You don't want to eat ASS, do you?

Touché, Matthew. Touché.

In other news, I am still loving my camera. Obesssing over it, really. This morning my friend Kelly came to visit, and we took about 42,000 pictures at breakfast and in a little wooded area beside the restaurant where we dined. Since I know you're thrilled with me for filling your mind with lovely images involving the "Butt Out," I will now attempt to redeem myself by supplying you with a few photos of a couple Texas girls cheesin for the Rebel (my camera). Have a nice day! ;) ;)