I was asked by my uncle "exactly how many deer in a buttload"
I responded "several per sighting X multiple sightings = a buttload"
Since then we have had a trio of visitors in the field on most evenings. Notice how hideously dead and bleak everything looks? It's like I'm caught in a brown movie. It am so ready for my life to be in color again. (It's sad that I have to open my dishwasher just to get excited by the pretty colors of Fiestaware.)
"You looking at me?"