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The big game hunter walked into the bar and bragged to everyone about his hunting skills. The man was undoubtedly a good shot and none could dispute that. But then he said they could blindfold him and he would recognize any animal’s skin from it’s feel, and if he could locate the bullet hole he would even tell them what caliber bullet it was that killed the animal.

The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and so the bet was on.

They blindfolded him carefully and took him to his first animal skin. After feeling it for a few moments, he announced "ringbrook." Then he felt the bullet hole and declared, "Shot with a .308 rifle." He was right.

They brought him another skin, one that someone had in their car trunk. He took a bit longer this time and then said, "Kalahari Lion. Shot with a .416 rifle." He was right again.

Through the night, he proved his skills again and again, every time against a round of drinks. Finally he staggered home, drunk out of his mind, and went to sleep.

The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one hell of a shiner. So he said to his wife, "I know I was drunk last night, but not drunk enough to get in a fight and not remember it. Where did I get this black eye?"

His wife angrily replied, "I gave it to you. You got into bed and put your hand down my panties. Then you fiddled around a bit and loudly announced, "Skunk, killed with an axe."

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