Here’s the pisser…

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Since the onset of hunting season, Doug has found himself in a quandary.

“The Gantch is lonely,” he said while staring at the fifteen-pound salmon he pulled out of the lake at Mount Tom at this time last year and promptly mounted on the wall of his mancave (“Gantch” being short for “Gargantuan”).  “There’s a big, empty spot right next to him.  He needs someone to keep him company.”

With that, he spritzed female deer urine all over a spot in our backyard (yes, my husband invests in bottled doe piss), set up the critter cam, and waited.

The next morning, here’s who we discovered striking a pose for the camera.

I think of all the women out there wasting their time with singles bars, awkward blind dates and Match.com.  After fifteen dismal years of my own in the dating arena, it’s ironic that I’m just figuring it out now.

Ladies, all we really ever had to do is pee in a spray bottle.

It’s enough to put Ralph Lauren, Estee Lauder and Calvin Klein right out of business.