Two Irishmen flew to Canada on a hunting trip.
They chartered a small plane to take them into the Rockies for a week hunting moose.
They managed to bag 6. As they were loading the plane to return, the pilot said the plane could take only 4 moose.
The two lads objected strongly. “Last year we shot six. The pilot let us take them all and he had the same plane as yours.”
Reluctantly, the pilot gave in and all six were loaded. The plane took off.
However, while attempting to cross some mountains even on full power the little plane couldn’t handle the load and went down.
Somehow, surrounded by the moose bodies, only Paddy and Mick survived the crash.
After climbing out of the wreckage, Paddy asked Mick, “Any idea where we are?”
Mick replied, “I think we’re pretty close to where we crashed last year.”
Two avid hunters take a hunter’s safety class in which they learn that the universal signal for an emergency is three s.h.ots in the air.
Sure enough, on their next hunting trip the two men get lost.
One says to the other, “What shall we do?”
The other says, I know fire three s.h.ots in the air and someone may come to find us.
He fires off three s.h.ots, and they wait two hours. No sign of help.
What shall we do? Fire off three more s.h.ots. So he does. Three hours later there is no response and it is getting dark. The one says “Shall we try again?”
The other says, “I guess not… I only have two arrows left…”
On the way home from a hunt, a hunter stops by the grocery store.
“Give me a couple of steaks,” he says.
“We’re out of steaks but we have hot dogs and chicken,” says the butcher.
“Hotdogs and chicken?!” yells the hunter. “How can I tell my wife I bagged a couple of hotdogs and chickens?”
