Redneck Millionaires
Slightly hungover, post-boar hunting.
The guys were a little worried about my take on the carnage, likely wondering if my yoga master mentality would prevail causing me to start whimpering in my borrowed camouflage jacket. While I couldn’t bring myself to actually shoot these hogs (nasty as they are) with the military-issued night vision gear and futuristic-looking firearms—I do love me some great American adventure.
“Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.”
