I’m still laughing!

This looks like the deer thought it was about to be taken out by a seasoned woodsman and instead got clipped by someone whose bio says “outdoorsy” because they once owned a hammock. That smile isn’t pride — it’s the same smile people make when they finish assembling IKEA furniture without leftover screws and decide it counts as mastery. You’re crouched there like you’re afraid the forest might notice you don’t belong and politely escort you back to the parking lot. The pose screams “I googled ‘how to look like a hunter’ and panicked halfway through.”

The outfit is doing some serious identity confusion. It’s not giving survivalist — it’s giving REI clearance rack mixed with fall aesthetic Pinterest board. The scarf says “apple picking,” not “bloodsport.” The bow looks like a prop that wandered into the frame and you just went with it. There is absolutely no chemistry between you and that weapon; I’ve seen decorative wall hooks with more intimidation factor. If confidence were ammo, this shot would’ve come with an apology note.

Meanwhile, the deer — even dead — looks more at home than you do. Its body language says “I lived here; you were visiting,” and honestly, it’s not wrong. This isn’t a trophy photo; it’s a LinkedIn headshot that accidentally wandered into the woods. The whole vibe is “I did this once, it was a lot, and I will bring it up in conversations forever.” Somewhere just outside the frame is a friend saying, “Yeah no, that looks badarse,” while very clearly lying through their teeth.

You're welcome.




You’re standing there like the final boss in a video game called Suburban Stealth: Turkey Edition. That outfit screams “I shop exclusively at Leaf & Bark,” and the turkey’s probably thinking, “This is the guy who got me? Really?” You didn’t sneak up on that bird — it probably gave up out of secondhand embarrassment.

Your pose says “alpha hunter,” but your vibe says “forgot to mow the lawn for six months and called it camouflage.” That shotgun’s doing all the heavy lifting, because the only thing you’ve successfully hunted is attention. And judging by the house behind you, even the porch light is trying to distance itself.

You’re gripping that turkey like it’s a trophy, but let’s be honest — the real prize would be a mirror that lies to you. That bird’s tail feathers have more swagger than your entire stance. You look like you just won a staring contest with a scarecrow and decided to celebrate with a photo shoot.

If confidence were camouflage, you’d still be visible from space. You’re the kind of guy who thinks “blending in” means wearing tree bark to a dinner party. That turkey didn’t lose a fight — it lost the will to live after seeing your outfit.