A big game hunter walked into the bar and bragged to everyone about his skills as a hunter. The man was undoubtedly a good shot and no one could dispute that. But then he said that they could blindfold him, and he would recognize any animal's skin from its feel. And if he could locate the bullet hole. he would even tell them what caliber rifle was used to shoot it. This was a bit too much for the other customers, and soon a heated argument was going on. Then the hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and the bet was on.
They blindfolded him carefully and took him to his first animal skin. After feeling it for a few moments, he announced, "Spring Buck." Then he felt for the bullet hole and declared, "Shot with a .22 rifle." The others could not believe it. He was right, and the argument was even hotter than before. When some started to suggest that he must have peeked, he said that he was prepared to do it again. He would put up all the drinks they had bought before against them buying another round for him.
So they blindfolded him again, very thoroughly this time, and they brought a skin that someone happened to have in their car. He took a bit longer this time and then said, "Kalahari Lion" and fingering the bullet hole said, "and the rifle was a .308," which of course was right. This, of course, was like throwing fat on the fire, and he had to prove is skills over and over again, every time against a round of drinks.
Finally he staggered home, drunk out of his mind, and went to sleep. The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one heck of a shiner. So he said to his wife, "Listen, I know I was drunk last night, but not too drunk to know that I did not fight anyone in that bar. So where did I get this black eye?" His wife replied angrily, "From me, of course."
"But what did I do?" he asked. She replied, "You got into bed and put your hand down my panties. Then you fiddled around a bit and announced in a triumphant tone, 'Skunk, killed with an axe.'"