Thread: Hunter rescued by helicopter after accidentally stabbing himself

It only takes one cunt to stop flinging mud, let's see who it'll be.....

Originally Posted by Nibblet

It only takes one cunt to stop flinging mud, let's see who it'll be.....

To be honest I wouldn't get your hopes up it being me.

I dont know why people who buy PLB's feel the need to go on internet forums and justify them, and shake hands with the others who also have them. There's a smugness about it all. Apart from Tahr of course, I mean hes got medical reasons. He's very old.
I am going to make a standard response to these threads : Congratulations on your new purchase. Thanks for letting us know.

Originally Posted by Carlsen Highway

To be honest I wouldn't get your hopes up it being me.

I dont know why people who buy PLB's feel the need to go on internet forums and justify them, and shake hands with the others who also have them. There's a smugness about it all. Apart from Tahr of course, I mean hes got medical reasons. He's very old.
I am going to make a standard response to these threads : Congratulations on your new purchase. Thanks for letting us know.

Carlsen, tonight you have won the title of being the forum's very own PLB..."Prancing Little Bitch"

Originally Posted by Tahr

Carlsen, tonight you have won the title of being the forum's very own PLB..."Prancing Little Bitch"

I'm just happy I am still allowed to take part.

I don't stand behind any of these opinions at all mind. For christ's sake don't anyone follow my lead. I don't even read instructions. I have trouble driving a car and talking at the same time. If anyone needs a PLB it's probably me. Forget about mountains and rivers in bad weather -on a nice sunny day I once fell off a flat walking track. Twenty yards upside down into a crack in the ground.

Originally Posted by Carlsen Highway

I'm just happy I am still allowed to take part.

I don't stand behind any of these opinions at all mind. For christ's sake don't anyone follow my lead. I don't even read instructions. I have trouble driving a car and talking at the same time. If anyone needs a PLB it's probably me. Forget about mountains and rivers in bad weather -on a nice sunny day I once fell off a flat walking track. Twenty yards upside down into a crack in the ground.

I didn't have a plb though. SO OBVIOUSLY I DIED

CH the youngish oldish hunter,six foot high and bullet proof.Checked woollen shirt,woolen swani,Buller boots with insteps drilled.
An open sight fan,he will never get lost. He drinks from knife cuts in Fuscia trees,brews up and drinks from old tin cans swinging over an open fire under the shelter of a fern biv.
Life feels great,a leg of venison hangs above smothered in black pepper,flys not that concerned. Dark clouds with thunder rolling in grabs his attention, heavy droplets running along newborn wrinkles and rough burnt features as he reaches for the battered parka.
An hour later he arrives at the surging waters cold and miserable,knee deep the day before, now a raging death trap.
Sudden movment catches his trained eye,rifle slams into his shoulder as he swings to his left, adrenalin pumping through his veins.
That distinctive boom echoed down through the valley,the old stag twitched his last as CH reached for his knife.
CH had carried the old green river knife for close on twenty years,always kept an edge and was given to him by an old deer culler.
Just as the razer sharp steel bit into the thick skin the old stag gave a final kick. Shocked and bemused with one leg in the torrent, unimaginable pain shot through his well muscled thigh, TH knew he was in very deep trouble after landing heavily on his knife.
Tears instantly filled his eys,blurred visions of his family as a fountain of blood quickly covered the forest floor.
That old green river had gone almost to the handle severing everything on its way. CH began to imagine he had packed his PLB.
TH 's body was recovered 2 weeks later he was only four ks from help.

Originally Posted by doinit

CH the youngish oldish hunter,six foot high and bullet proof.Checked woollen shirt,woolen swani,Buller boots with insteps drilled.
An open sight fan,he will never get lost. He drinks from knife cuts in Fuscia trees,brews up and drinks from old tin cans swinging over an open fire under the shelter of a fern biv.
Life feels great,a leg of venison hangs above smothered in black pepper,flys not that concerned. Dark clouds with thunder rolling in grabs his attention, heavy droplets running along newborn wrinkles and rough burnt features as he reaches for the battered parka.
An hour later he arrives at the surging waters cold and miserable,knee deep the day before, now a raging death trap.
Sudden movment catches his trained eye,rifle slams into his shoulder as he swings to his left, adrenalin pumping through his veins.
That distinctive boom echoed down through the valley,the old stag twitched his last as CH reached for his knife.
CH had carried the old green river knife for close on twenty years,always kept an edge and was given to him by an old deer culler.
Just as the razer sharp steel bit into the thick skin the old stag gave a final kick. Shocked and bemused with one leg in the torrent, unimaginable pain shot through his well muscled thigh, TH knew he was in very deep trouble after landing heavily on his knife.
Tears instantly filled his eys,blurred visions of his family as a fountain of blood quickly covered the forest floor.
That old green river had gone almost to the handle severing everything on its way. CH began to imagine he had packed his PLB.
TH 's body was recovered 2 weeks later he was only four ks from help.

Ironically this post is entirely true except for one bit. Good luck trying to cut anything with a green river. Safe as houses in this scenario.