I guess that makes me cheap, lazy and irresponsible. Such is life. []

I apologize to the peanut galleryfor my complete lack of ethics, but really - until the deer I shoot stop dying - I'm gonna keep doing what I'm doing.

If I run one through the boiler room of whitie buck, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm gonnaslip that bloody arrowout of theground andrun my grimy little paw overthe blades. If they're even close to being as sharp as my Buck knife, free of dents/bends/broken blades, it's getting cleanedup in the laundry tub that nightwith some scent-free soap and hot water. If there's a dull spot - I might hit it with the stone. Maybe.One test-fire into the block, if it hits the bullseye, you guessed it! Right back in the quiver.

Sometimes I wonder how I can even sleep at night. Oh the horrors of my ways.