- Spend a shit ton of cash on a non-resident deer license, because you're too anti-establishment (lazy) to get your drivers license updated despite living in a state for 5 years, because fuck the DMV.
- Fight traffic for hours, stuck with every other deer hating moron with a gun on the only road that takes you to your wife's aunt's boyfriend's ridiculously out of the way cabin, despite there being approximately 89 deer per square inch literally everywhere in Minnesota.
- Wake up stupid early, put on bright orange overalls, spray yourself in doe piss, hike fucking miles in the dark, climb a goddamn tree stand while trying not to shoot yourself, and freeze for the next 4 hours.
- Repeat 3 weekends in a row, ruining any chance to actually enjoy your limited time off.
- Never actually see a damn deer, how this is possible here I will never understand. You can't drive 3 blocks in downtown Minneapolis without running over an antlered menace, but try to go to their actual habitat? Nada. God is a deer, and he hates me, and he's laughing his sick ass off.
Especially don't do any of this if you never have any intention of actually shooting a deer, because while venison is tasty, I'm not super interested in playing with an animals entrails, and the supermarket suits me just fine, and you were just being nice when your wife's aunt's boyfriend brought it up in conversation once and mistook your polite attention for a keen interest in recreational murder and proceeds to invite you along so often that you eventually succumb out of a misplaced need to be nice.
Seriously, next time just be a dick and say no.