
I'm out at my property today and I bend over to pick up a small piece of ply and found this fella curled up underneath right at my feet. Of course I'm not even wearing jeans and boots. I'm tromping out in the brush in shorts and sandles like some goofball. Its good to know thro that I can still move as fast as I did when I have a reason.

Creepy thing is still squirming and rattling at me:

Starting my kill record:


Now before the PETA tards jump on me, I don't just go around killing every snake I see. If I don't recognize the kind of snake, I'll just shoo it away. But if its a rattle, or copperhead, or cottonmouth, its dead on sight. No debate.

,
Wab