cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Also I'm Running for Congress Well that was weird. I don't even know how to begin to explain the last 2 weeks or so, most of which were spent on the road with these fuckwits from Men's J0urnal. Gr@nt was a good guy and we had a lot of fun together on the drive and at the start of the hunt. But he couldn't keep up with me and in fact he fucked the whole thing up. That wasn't the worst of it, because Gr@nt already knew that he wasn't especially manly and he was comfortable with the fact. He had high hopes of elevating himself which didn't work out, but he'll be all right. The worst part is what happened with the retarded fucking photographer. He and I will never speak to each other again. Essentially, the two of them pussed out repeatedly. Their job was to follow me and participate in the hunt for this inv@sive species that I was pursuing for my new book. But they continually ruined the hunt and pussed out. Popping flash bulbs and scaring away the thing I was about to shoot. Deciding to go hang out on the party boat and drink beer instead of catching up on sleep like I did, resulting in falling asleep in their chairs at 11 pm that night and Guess what, dipshits. We're hunting a nocturnal, aquatic mammal. That involves being awake in a swamp all fucking night or else we don't get anything. It all came to a head after they both had a melt down over the fact that we hadn't gotten any nutr1a, which was 100% their fault. They were worried because without a nutr1a to cook and eat, they didn't have their whole story for the magazine and it could get killed and they don't get paid. Towards the end of the trip we were way down south near Baton R0uge hunting in an area with a LOT of big gators and water moccasins and wild boar. Which is like, tough shit. This is what its like to hunt in Louisiana. There's a lot of shit that wants to kill you and if you can't hack it then you shouldn't have volunteered. So there we are, the night before they have to fly home, and we hadn't gotten anything yet. I found a new area to hunt on a river with lots of fresh sign and active burrows and all we had to do was walk out along this river bank and set a trap on a burrow entrance and then hedge our bets by ambushing the river for a few hours until something swam by. Sure, there are thorns and mosquitoes and poison ivy and it was raining and there are gators and poisonous snakes and wild boar and all that shit. But this was all what was on the menu all along. I had this huge iron trap in one hand and my rifle slung over my shoulder and I told Gr@nt that I needed him to carry the backpack, and I told Brown that he needed to hold the spotlight and be on gator lookout on the water while i walked in front. So long as we stuck together, we'd be fine. I just needed someone holding the pack with supplies in it and someone spotlighting the water to look out for the gators before I knelt down by the water's edge to set this trap, which if set wrong could literally sever my arm. If one of us got snakebit, it should be no big deal since the others can go back to the road and get help. A night in the ER and a month of recovery, but its not like one of us would die or anything so long as we got medical attention. I started to walk into the woods and I turned around and those fucking cowards were still standing there in the road. They were too chicken shit to follow me into the jungle. Grant stammered something about snakes and his shoes not being high enough. and Brown started to say something about the alligators before trailing off. I told them that we could surely get a nutr1a if we just waited by the bank for a few hours. Br0wn said "you had better be back in 15 minutes, or else." And I looked at him and said, "or else what?" He was silent and could not meet my gaze. Neither of them ever could again. I turned and walked into the forest, alone. It was a hard slog out there. I had a few gators right off the bank checking me out while I struggled to get the trap set. There were snakes all around me. If anything had happened, my cell phone had no reception and was almost out of batteries anyway. The road was out of shouting distance. Had I gotten snapped by the trap, bitten by a snake or grabbed by a gator, there would have been no cavalry coming for me. It would have been easy with someone watching my back. When I returned about half an hour later neither of those eunuchs could look me in the eye. The whole ride back to the hotel was very awkward. Even the next morning before they left for the airport, they couldn't look me in the eye or directly address me. These two people went from a beginning in which they fancied that they were about a great business and that they were great manly hunters. And then they gradually became angry at me over the fact that we hadn't bagged a nutr1a yet. And then finally, by the end, they were consumed by self-loathing. Br0wn especially. For the rest of their useless lives, they will know that they are weak cowards. They will always know that when the time came to be men and to follow me into the dark of the forest and to face the beasts in the night, they were chickenshit little pussies. Worse, they left me to literally carry their burdens for them. These people (for I will not call them 'men') will carry this burden of cowardice with them forever. As they should. I have hunted with women under somewhat similar circumstances who bore up under the pressure and the danger and the discomfort very well. Its not about gender or sexuality, really. Its about whether or not you're a coward. These people are cowards. As soon as they left the next day, everything went great. I hooked up with a bunch of Cajuns and went out in airboats with them and bagged some nutes with a rifle and then I went back to a biker bar with a Parisi@n chef who cooked them up in the kitchen there. I got everything I needed for the chapter and I had a blast. A lot of other things happened that I'm not going to get into here because I have to write about it all over again anyway for the book. The drive home took me two days. I just got in at 1 am last night or this morning or whatever it is. My first book goes to the printer's on Monday morning. I have a big, though un-paid, speaking gig lined up for September. 30,000 people. Also it it looking more and more like I'm running for C0ngress. I had dinner tonight with some supporters and the money looks to be there to finance a run. Some of the key early people are meeting with certain US Senators and other king-makers on my behalf during the next week to find out what support I have in those quarters and whether I'm going to have their early support. This sounds insane. It *is* insane. But its really happening. These people are all talking about lining up hundreds of thousands of dollars on my behalf, and meanwhile I don't even have the money to pay my health insurance premiums right now. I know that I have the relevant experience but I wish that all of this was happening at a point a few years later in my life. 11:41 p.m. - 2011-06-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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