Several years ago, I had a conversation with our lawn guy, Tim, who along with a group of buddies leases some vast acreage down in south Georgia for a singular purpose:  they spend multiple weekends hunting deer and camping in the rustic cabins on the property.  In that long-ago conversation, he was talking about becoming very choosy, and waiting for the perfect trophy buck - he had a particular threshold in mind of antler size, though I forget what.  I told him I wanted not a head, but a hindquarters - thinking I was being funny - and he replied, "Oh!  You want you a ass-mount!"  I was amazed that there was an actual term for what I was describing.  I was just being silly.  Or so I thought.

Today, for the first time this year, Tim and his son Shane came over to mow and weed-whack our lawn.  Alan went outside to pay them, but stuck his head back inside to call me.  It seems that Tim had a present for me.

OMG, y'all.


Tim totally got me an ass-mount.

Excitedly, I texted Matt.  He wrote back, "Holy shit!  That is truly epic!  I totally want one!"

I replied, "You envy my ass.  LOL!"

Matt:  "Envy is an understatement.  I don't even have words to describe how cool that is.  I would put it on the mantle."

So I did.  One should not ignore advice from Matt.

Heh heh heh.  I have AN ASS-MOUNT!!!!

I can't wait until The Sainted Miss Betty, our housekeeper, sees this thing.  She already prays extra for us strange, reckless, wayward chillun.