How many people it takes to eat a possum?
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Nicksterdemus
Member
Depends on how many sweet taters you baked w/it...
bricker
Member
Three. Two to watch for traffic while the third one eats.
oldfella
US Veteran
One thing about being bored, we can come up with all kinds of thoughts and ideas... we even read some of them
Pete
OP
dingdingding!!! Winner!! I should have known to disqualify anyone from Georgia.
bricker, you still got that 870? The Model 15 I got from you is one of my very favorites.
bricker
Member
dingdingding!!! Winner!! I should have known to disqualify anyone from Georgia.
bricker, you still got that 870? The Model 15 I got from you is one of my very favorites.
Still have it! I was wondering about that 15 the other day. I'll have to confess, it was my Oklahoma upbringing that gave the possum thing away!
That ain't people Them's Aggies!
BarbC
Member
What really had me worried when we lived in Virginia was the total absence of roadkill remains.
OP
I have to admit to having consumed several road-killed deer. I ain't gonna eat no armadillo, though, whether road-killed, trapped, or shot. I guess I should never say never, but times would have to get awful tough before I ate one.
I have never eaten any possum. My Mama said her brother used to trap them during the depression. He would put them up in a pen for two weeks and feed them grain and greens to "clean them out" before they ate them. My Daddy used to say, jokingly, (I think) that the best way to find a possum was to find an old mule carcass, beat on the side of it, and catch the possums when they came out. One older gentleman used to tell me that the only time he really had it rough during the depression was when he broke his arm eating breakfast one morning. I asked him how that happened. He replied that he got in a fight with a possum 10 feet up in a persimmon tree and fell out.
The label on this can says something like "Sun Cured Possum. Ran Over By a Pulpwood Truck on US 19 Just North of Thomasville, Georgia."
I have never eaten any possum. My Mama said her brother used to trap them during the depression. He would put them up in a pen for two weeks and feed them grain and greens to "clean them out" before they ate them. My Daddy used to say, jokingly, (I think) that the best way to find a possum was to find an old mule carcass, beat on the side of it, and catch the possums when they came out. One older gentleman used to tell me that the only time he really had it rough during the depression was when he broke his arm eating breakfast one morning. I asked him how that happened. He replied that he got in a fight with a possum 10 feet up in a persimmon tree and fell out.
The label on this can says something like "Sun Cured Possum. Ran Over By a Pulpwood Truck on US 19 Just North of Thomasville, Georgia."
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