Ever since Dustin made jerky out of the deer he killed this year, I've heard nothing but sighs of happiness as he gnaws on a piece after dinner. And then there is the whimpers of distress later in the night while we try to sleep. Night after night he wonders why his stomach hurts so bad. Every evening he worries in the darkness over if he has an ulcer. Each morning he awakens as if nothing has happened and gets right back to chewing on a piece of dehydrated, salty tendon.
We had just finished watching a movie when I started into my weekly moan about how I need to go to bed earlier. He started into his literally belly aching. Well, I know what my problem is but this dude is in straight-up denial. His body is a temple. Of doom.
1 comment:
Mmmmmmm!! Jerky! There's a place on Hwy 26 between PDX and the coast that brags of like 70 kinds of jerky. One of those listed in large print as you drive by is Yak Jerky. I dare you to say it aloud and not laugh.
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