One morning while sitting in our crew bus waiting to drive off to our logging site, one of our crew, Jack, made mention that he had a skunk that had taken up residence under his house. The problem was there was a residual smell the permeated up through the floor. Not overpowering, but noticeable. He asked for any suggestions. Being a veteran logger, he should have known far too well not to ask for suggestions among his fellow loggers. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was actually listening to any advise given by them.
“Well ya know, god dammit,” Clem, our logging tower operator popped up, (I don’t know why, but Clem always began every one of his supposedly profound statements with “Well ya know, god dammit.”) it’s a well known fact that if you kill a skunk outright, it won’t spray.”
“What does that mean?” Jack asked.
“Well ya know, god dammit it,” his eyes looking up, as if his words were coming to him divinely, which I’m quite sure was the last place they would be coming from, “if you blow their bleeping head clean off, they’re dead before they can spray.”
“You bullshitting me?” Jack said with wary eyes.
Clem threw a leg over the other before giving Jack a knowing nod. “Trust me.”
Never, ever, ever, ever, trust the words of a logger! That’s like asking a burger flipper what his or her thoughts are on astrophysics. Jack made his last and final mistake.
The following Monday Jack entered the crew bus. He was not a happy camper! He looked directly at Clem. “You are so full of shit!”
“What seems to be the problem?” Clem asked matter-of-factly.
“I crawled under the house with my shotgun and a flashlight,” he continued, “and I spotted the skunk’s little shining eyes. And I aimed and fired.” Now his voice was rising again. “While that skunk was kicking around it sprayed that crawl space from one end to the other!” he screamed.
“You sure you killed it outright?” Clem calmly asked.
“Killed it outright? I plum blew its head clean off! We had to move out, hire a fumigator, and worst, live with my mother-in-law for God only knows how long….”
Clem gave his patented philosophical look. “Well, ya know god dammit it, that just goes ta show ya, ya just can’t trust a skunk.”
Needless to say, the animals that loggers are, a good laugh was had by the rest of the crew…..