Three of my favorite things together: genius writing, Ron Swanson, and Walden.
I am in my cabin in the woods. It’s good. No one else is around for 2 miles in any direction. I have some water and whiskey and my shotgun. I am going to go kill my dinner. Okay I am back and I have my dinner, a deer. I shot this deer and now I will cook it.
I cooked and ate the deer flank and it was very gamey. But the whiskey is good.
I drank most of the whiskey and I’m hungry again so I am going to eat more of the deer.
I ate more of the deer and it was less gamey than I remembered. I also had more whiskey.
I am just sitting here.
More deer has been eaten by me. It is very good deer meat.
The rest of the deer is about to have been eaten by me. Also I drank the rest of the whiskey. I underestimated how much whiskey I would need out here. I will probably have to go to the store to buy more whiskey. I didn’t want to leave this cabin at all, but what the hell, Thoreau left Walden Pond every day he was writing that book. It is taking me a long time to type this because I am eating more of the deer with one of my hands. This is the best deer meat I have ever eaten. Thank you, deer, for being so delicious. I will eat the rest of you soon and use your antlers as decoration in my cabin if there is any room left on my walls. I am looking around and seeing that there is not. Every wall has deer antlers on every available inch of wall. Sorry, deer.
Ok, I’m going to bed in this chair.