GameHauler

How do you score the first mass measurements How the heck do you score anything on that toad. What a great Buck? Anyone heard the score?

Kinda reminds me of someone else selling something and then little or no response after the post. I am not a hall monitor (Wish we would hear from him But he is still probably upset over another topic) But Guys if you want to list something in the classifieds it sure would be nice to monitor it All you have to do is request a Email to any response to a topic The more info you can provide the better chance to sale and fewer questions. Hope no one minds me venting a bit

Good Email Please share, Just copy and past in the content One Light Bulb at a Time A physics teacher in high school, once told the students that while one grasshopper on the railroad tracks wouldn't slow a train very much, a billion of them would. With that thought in mind, read the following, obviously written by a good American. Good idea . . . one light bulb at a time. Check this out . I can verify this because I was in Lowes the other day for some reason and just for the heck of it I was looking at the hose attachments . They were all made in China. The next day I was in Ace Hardware and just for the heck of it I checked the hose attachments there. They were made in USA. Start looking. In our current economic situation, every little thing we buy or do affects someone else - even their job. So, after reading this email, I think this lady is on the right track. Let's get behind her! My grandson likes Hershey's candy. I noticed, though, that it is marked made in Mexico now. I do not buy it any more. My favorite toothpaste Colgate is made in Mexico now. I have switched to Crest. You have to read the labels on everything. This past weekend I was at Kroger. I needed 60 W light bulbs and Bounce dryer sheets. I was in the light bulb aisle, and right next to the GE brand I normally buy was an off brand labeled, "Everyday Value. " I picked up both types of bulbs and compared the stats - they were the same except for the price. The GE bulbs were more money than the Everyday Value brand but the thing that surprised me the most was the fact that GE was made in MEXICO and the Everyday Value brand was made in - get ready for this - the USA in a company in Cleveland, Ohio. So throw out the myth that you cannot find products you use every day that are made right here. So on to another aisle - Bounce Dryer Sheets . . . yep, you guessed it, Bounce cost more money and is made in Canada. The Everyday Value brand was less money and MADE IN THE U.S.A.! I did laundry yesterday and the dryer sheets performed just like the Bounce Free I have been using for years and at almost half the price! My challenge to you is to start reading the labels when you shop for everyday things and see what you can find that is made in the USA - the job you save may be your own or your neighbors! If you accept the challenge, pass this on to others in your address book so we can all start buying American, one light bulb at a time! Stop buying from overseas companies! (We should have awakened a decade ago.) Let's get with the program ... help our fellow Americans keep their jobs and create more jobs here in the U. S. A.!

Houston, I would like to borrow it if you don't mind. Yes I have a VCR player

UM!! Me thinks June is right

Have to agree with that. Hope someone can put him down before he suffers any more

Thats it You and Troy are not good but just have the best luck in the world You know I am kidding Mark as you put more time in the field than most and deserve all the harvests you guys have I am very happy for you but to have the bow at full draw God loves you Congratulations Mark

Been a year or better since I saw it but enjoyed seeing it again

I would be interested but do not think it will work with my Warn Semi Hidden Mount System. Could you give me a inside and outside measurement for the mounting tabs? Thanks

You Tell Em Baby Thanks for posting that Lark have you anything to say Have you sluged yourself in the mouth yet today Obomanites

I may have heard one lone bugle this morning but can't say for sure. Now that this weekend is over I will be getting out allot more.

Thanks but with my failing eyes it would be tough for me to read.

Built in wireless ready? Operating systems, memory ect?

Dang Scotty

WHY Maybe you have not been around long enough to understand my post, Good luck on your search

2nd best I made. First was a good wife

Wow, A couple of great hookers Blake And nice choice of mounts, I really like it

I had to scroll back to the top for a second look to make sure Monster Carp .com had not hijacked the site You do have some great flop ears there Good luck if you are going after them.

Thats why the lion was feverishly licking it's butt

And the top is Bullwidgeon. At least they got a bath for the pics since it rained

Great Buck Clay. Hope your Dad can seal the deal.

CHEYENNE By Catherine Moore 'Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. 'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, and then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read... The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. 'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?' 'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog.' I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. 'I'll take him,' I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. 'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples... 'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.' 'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article. Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter . . . his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

Mike, I just received this in an Email. I thought it fitting. SPECIAL GROCERY LIST Louise Redden, a poorly dressed lady with a look of defeat on her face, walked into a grocery store. She approached the owner of the store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge a few groceries. She softly explained that her husband was very ill and unable to work, they had seven children and they needed food.. John Longhouse, the grocer, scoffed at her and requested that she leave his store at once. Visualizing the family needs, she said: 'Please, sir! I will bring you the money just as soon as I can.' John told her he could not give her credit, since she did not have a charge account at his store. Standing beside the counter was a customer who overheard the conversation between the two. The customer walked forward and told the grocer that he would stand good for whatever she needed for her family. The grocer said in a very reluctant voice, 'Do you have a grocery list?' Louise replied, 'Yes sir.' 'O.K' he said, 'put your grocery list on the scales and whatever your grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries.' Louise hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. She then laid the piece of paper on the scale carefully with her head still bowed. The eyes of the grocer and the customer showed amazement when the scales went down and stayed down. The grocer, staring at the scales, turned slowly to the customer and said begrudgingly, 'I can't believe it.' The customer smiled and the grocer started putting the groceries on the other side of the scales. The scale did not balance so he continued to put more and more groceries on them until the scales would hold no more. The grocer stood there in utter disgust. Finally, he grabbed the piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater amazement. It was not a grocery list, it was a prayer, which said: 'Dear Lord, you know my needs and I am leaving this in your hands.' The grocer gave her the groceries that he had gathered and stood in stunned silence. Louise thanked him and left the store. The other customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to the grocer and said; 'It was worth every penny of it. Only God Knows how much a prayer weighs.' THE POWER: When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do. Just stop right now, and say a prayer of thanks for your own good fortune. Then please send this to all your friends and relatives. I believe if you will send this testimony out with prayer in faith, you will receive what you need God to do in your and your families' life . So dear heart, trust God to heal the sick, provide food for the hungry, clothes and shelter for those that don't have as we do.. Amen & Amen

Mike, I have know of your condition since your deer hunt and my prayers are with you. I also live in constant pain and have an idea what you are going threw As you know, I am friends with the guys that helped recover your deer and let me tell you that it was a true pleasure for them to help you out and they look forward to doing it again on your upcoming elk hunt more than anything. I also would feel blessed if I were able to help you. (Amber is ready to roll as is my pack) It truly is hard to ask for help but I have learned that people love doing it for people in need. I am scheduling my surgery for nov. after my deer hunt and know I will also have to ask for help. The Docs. are saying 6 months before I can shoot a gun I understand your condition is worse than mine but please try to live your life to the fullest and do not be ashamed to let people help you as they love doing it

Congratulations Ted Look like trophies to me. How did you teach your dog to smile for the camera