Entry 53: Bambi Be Damned

This may surprise you, but blogging is not my primary source of income. If we had to live off what I make as a blogger, we’d die.

If you don’t know me personally, it might surprise you even more to learn what I do do for a living. I write junk mail, and those TV commercials with the 800 numbers. (Not spam though; don’t blame me for that.)

This may not be a profession that is high on the list of esteemed livelihoods (I once had a car salesman sneer at me…a car salesman!), but it paid for this house I’ve been writing about.

I tell you this not because I am looking for assignments (you can contact me at haldirect@aol.com for your direct marketing needs), but because I once did a highly successful mailing for a magazine in which I swear I used the following headline:

THE GIRLS CALL ‘EM “FURRY CRITTERS.”

WE CALL ‘EM “DEAD.”

We’ll give you the know-how to mow down any varmint!

As you might expect, the magazine in question was not Cosmopolitan. And while talking like this may not be a great way to pick up women (and certainly not a good way to befriend varmints), I have shown you this brilliant example of the copywriter’s art as a way to demonstrate that there are places where people walk around with shotguns, or bows and arrows, or possibly nuclear weapons, stalking critters large and small. It’s probable that my brother-in-law Gary would be one of them if he lived in a more rural area (or in a more Republican suburban one).

However sitting on our front porch with advanced weaponry would not work for us here in Stamford, primarily because we don’t have a front porch. But we do have a varmint problem, or at least Barbara does. The deer in our neighborhood firmly believe that the row of little red flowers along our driveway is, in fact, a buffet.

(Note: Barbara keeps telling me what these flowers are called, but I seem eerily unable to retain this information, just as I was in high school chemistry class, where I was so inept, the teacher, Miss Kinneally, actually told me to just sit in the corner and read a book.)

Anyway, Barbara decided to take decisive, if non-artillery-related action against our Bambis. She purchased deer repellent, which she sprayed liberally over our property.

Let me just say that this stuff is grossly mislabeled. A more accurate description would be “every-living-thing” repellent. I have reason to believe that this product was originally developed by the army for biological warfare. They’d just poor it over the enemy troops from helicopters and the combatants would immediately lay down their arms because they’d be too occupied holding their noses and barfing.

How bad was the stink? We had our appliances delivered later the same day, and the guys told us to check to make sure we didn’t have a septic back-up. Can you imagine what they would have thought if they knew what I do for a living!

In conclusion, I don’t know if the deer will stay away, but it might be awhile before we have guests.

See you soon.

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2 Responses to Entry 53: Bambi Be Damned

  1. janice weiss says:

    the spray is animal urine and the flowers are impatiens

  2. Pingback: Entry 67: Please Don’t Read This | The Upsizers

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