My loyal followers had some interesting reactions to my plan of potentially moving to Montana.
As you all already read, I’m thinking about buying some land in Montana and embracing the ranching lifestyle. The countryside runs in my veins, I grew up in the countryside in Wisconsin and I’m thinking about changing things up as I become an old man. (RELATED: Is It Time For David Hookstead To Give Up On The Internet, Move To Montana And Become A Rancher?)
My fans had some interesting things to say about that. Some where support, some were just off the walls and one guy just suggested I kill myself to save on the airfare. Yes, you read that final part correct.
You can read some of the most entertaining reactions:
- Hookworm, are you drunk again?
- One needs balls, brains and brawn to make a ranch work and you’re 0-and-3.
- I see you more as a goat herder.
- I see him more in the role of the goat….
- I’ve commented on many of your articles. My advice: kill yourself where you are, and save the airfare to Montana.
- If it means stopping writing for the DC, follow your dreams.
- Great idea, Hookie. A perfect fit: doing something that is even more shallow and useless than shilling for the not-so big ten. A win-win for all of us. You can ride your hobby horses and play with your gun and we don’t have to put up with your mindless drivel anymore. Go buy yourself a Teddy Roosevelt outfit so that you can pretend you are a rough rider.
- Do it today, now, immediately.
See, these reactions are everything that’s wrong with America. We’ve gotten too soft as a nation. We’ve gotten too soft with every passing generation.
Here I am, an old man trying to get by, and I’m offering to lead another generation into the land ranching experience.
Ranching is hard work. It’s not something people often volunteer to do. It’s all about waking up early, drinking only black coffee and beer and putting in the long and tough hours.
It’s not for all the soft people out there who cut their coffee with sugar and milk. Those people belong in the cities.
Those of us who drink straight black coffee, which fueled this internet empire, are meant for early morning in the Montana wilderness on horseback.
I’m out here trying to save the soul of this nation and make sure your juicy burgers still show up on your tables for dinner. That’s just the man I am.
I don’t need your thanks, I don’t need your praise and I don’t need you to state the obvious, which is that I’m probably a hero for volunteering to move to Montana to ranch.
Stay tuned, folks, because I have no idea what could happen.