…the deer I had sex with was dead already."
Gotta admire the lawyer’s ingenuity:
Ah, deer season.
So that’s why deer hunting is so popular in the south.
I was not aware that Wisconsin was on this side of the Mason-Dixon. 
‘Oh, dear!’
‘No deer. Ass too high. Run too fast.’
He must have meant “south of the Canadian border.” 
I didn’t say it was exclusive to the south. Plus, what else is there to do in Wisconsin? 
Wear cheese on one’s head.
Just in for deer season: Blaze Orange cheeseheads!
Rabbit season!
Looks like my extended family.
And yes, we have both cheeseheads and packer jerseys in our household. But I’m a co-owner of the Packers, so it’s okay. 
And the guy who had sex with a deer will probably be a patient of mine soon.
“Doc, I got this terrible aching in my loins. I think that deer gave me something. Can deer get syphilis?”
What would this be called? Necrotiality? Besticrophilia? Sickotwistedphilia? I’m having flashbacks to The Leather Goddesses of Phobos here.
The proper term is “necrobestiality.” The proper response to it is a nail gun to the nuggets.
So Bambi and Thumper are at it again, eh?
I wonder why the lawyer hasn’t tried to make the claim that Hathaway was simply trying to “tenderize” the meat while injecting “secret sauce”?
The cows.
Cow tipping while wearing cheese hats? Wee doggie, now we gots us a party. You bring the Lone Star, I’ll bring the brie.
You people have no shame.
Like Wisconsin would import beer from Texas when there’s Milwaukee’s Best to be had.
You’re just upset because we didn’t invite you. If you want to come along, then please do not wear the one carved in the shape of a vagina.
Meh. The only difference is the breed of Yak it squirted out of – though I think Wisconsin yak piss tends to make more of a blond beer.