My turds smell like roses. My dad and I have both put one on the ground with our pants around our ankles.
We try to put meat in the freezer early in the season, which actually helps the population, and hunt for big boy the rest of the time.
I won't shoot a well producing doe or immature buck and I take care of the meat from the the time the animal hits the ground till it hits the plate, other than occasionally having one processed after I've done the real work. I've grown up around a lot of real jackasses though when it comes to hunting.
As far as crazy, many would agree, but it's like therapy. There is nothing like watching and hearing the woods wake up, much less your hard work coming to fruition. I actually cried a bit when I took my first buck and had my dad finish him off. It's also humbling to be outsmarted by a glorified goat.
Sorry for the novel.