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  • Hallucinogenic Habaneros…

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    They say a picture is worth 1000 words. I’ve never really been absolutely certain who “they” are, but they get quoted quite a bit. I guess it’s just one of those things. Personally, I’ve always sort of agreed with the concept, but then I’ve also been known to say why use 1000 words if 500 will do. I’m sort of divided like that. I know it doesn’t seem like I would only use 500 words instead of 1000 when you read my blogs, but that’s just because I have so many excess words left over from not using them elsewhere. Have to get rid of them somehow, and here seems to be the dumping ground…

    But anyway… Back to that whole picture thing. The other night we were visiting friends for a gala “TikkiToberfest” party. You know the drill – sort of a blend between German and Polynesian culture. Hawaiian shirts, Lederhosen, Poi, Brats, Beer, and Fruity Drinks served in hollowed out pineapples with little paper umbrellas. A typical Saturday night party. Well, as it would happen, our host, Dave, had a mess of Habanero peppers on hand to go with the meal. Being a fan of peppers I had a couple. They were good. Excellent, in fact. However, as generally happens with large amounts of capsicum sticking to your tongue, a cupcake and mass quantities of beer were required to douse the fire.

    THIS is where I learned an important lesson: Habanero Peppers + Red Velvet Cupcakes + Beer = A Very Powerful Hallucinogen.

    How do I know this?

    Well, to begin with, I consumed all three – duh. However, what really clinched it was when I went into the bathroom and saw the Zombie Cat.

    Yes. A Zombie Cat. Kitten really. There it was, rolling around on its back as kittens will do, playing with some brains. Not really all that surprising, given that most cats like to play with their food, so why wouldn’t a Zombie Cat as well?

    When I went back outside to the fire pit I announced this to everyone. I don’t think they believed me… that was, until my good friend, Celeste “The Blonde Bombshell” Webster went to investigate. With her trusty phone she snapped a picture for all to see… And there it is above, a 1000 word photo to go with the 389 regular words I just typed.

    More to come…

    Murv

     

  • Deliverance II: Meramec’s Revenge…

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    Back in the 70’s, C. W. McCall (Bill Fries) along with Chip Davis (Yeah, THAT Chip Davis) wrote a song called Green River. If you’d like to listen to the original, here’s a link:

    I suppose you are  probably wondering why I am even bringing up an almost 40 year old song. Well, you see, it’s like this: Evil Kat.

    Come on… You knew The Supreme Redhead had to be involved in this somehow…

    Back in the days when it was just E K and her leashed pets – that being two canines and one husband (I can’t complain, she bought me a really nice collar with an engraved tag that said Property of Evil Kat on it) we used to go on float trips CONSTANTLY. For non-Missourians – as I have found that the term “float-trip” is not universal – a float trip is where you rent a canoe, get dropped off with it and your coolers, and paddle/float yourself down a river to the “take-out point,” which can either be where you parked originally, or a different place where they pick you up and bring you back to your car.

    This is intended to be fun. As a rule, it usually is. Like I said, back in the day, E K would leash us up, put us in the car, and off we’d go. There was one year I recall that we went on float trips almost every weekend for the entire summer. AND, truth be told, a float trip was EKay’s and my first official date – and she still married me anyway. But that’s a different blog that I’ll tell sometime in the future.

    At any rate, back to the here and now. For several years after the O-spring came along, we stopped “floating” – primarily due to time constraints. However, now that she is older and can come along with us, and can swim, and all that good stuff, E K has made it her mission in life to see to it that we go on at least one float per summer, if not more. With that, she has started scheduling an end of summer float with friends for the past two years. One more year and it becomes a tradition…

    Last year’s float, while it had a couple of mildly harrowing incidents, was almost completely unremarkable as compared to this year’s canoeing odyssey – which occurred just yesterday,  Saturday August 27…

    I knew it would become a blog when we were less than a mile into the float. Why? Because Steve, Mary, and Tammy flipped. Not as in “flipped someone off,” or “flipped out”… Although, they DID flip out of the canoe, so I guess in a way they DID flip out. Basically, Mary’s sunglasses “flipped” off her head, Steve tried to grab them, they all shifted in the canoe, and… Well… Moments later we were standing on a gravel bar emptying water from their craft and then reloading it with their coolers.

    But what REALLY told me this would be a blog was that while we were reloading their “boat,” some other canoers came around the bend, merrily singing “Row, Row, Row your boat.” To this, a waterlogged Mary muttered under her breath, “I’ll show you row, row your f*cking boat… Quit your damn singing.”

    After that, it was all over for us. The river proceeded to exact revenge upon each and every member of our group. E K, O-Spring, and I flipped – something that literally has NOT happened since the second time E K and I went floating (We are actually pretty damn good “canoe drivers”). Mary was taken down by a slippery rock and banged the crap out of her knee. Same thing then happened to the O-spring. We were caught in a snag and I had to bail out of the canoe and fight the current to get us free. Later, during a similar operation I was sucked under the canoe while E K and the O-spring were still aboard and became a speed bump after I loosed it – then the current popped me back up above the surface, but still had hold of me and I tumbled over rocks for several feet until I could get a handhold. Of course, E K and the O-spring were now 300 yards down the river and I had to walk the rocks to get to them. There was plenty more, actually, but this blog is already over 1000 words, so I need to give it a bit of a rest… Instead, what I will try to do is recount our adventure through rewriting C. W.’s tune…

    Meramec River

    It was daylight on the river but we weren’t having any fun
    And we couldn’t find our cooler cups no more
    But we felt the boilin’ current and the spring was runnin’ cold
    As we headed down the river two plus four
    And the rocks were kickin’ our asses
    On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

    [Chorus]
    And we died a thousand times in that nine miles of hell
    The longest day of life we’d ever seen
    But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
    Then we ate some dinner at a truck stop

    We were four plus two in number when we gathered on the shore
    And we loaded up our coolers full of beer
    But we summoned up our courage an’ we said we wouldn’t scream
    And we ran that rocky river without fear
    Yeah, the logs were kickin’ our asses
    On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

    Echoing Shouts:
    Steve – Paddle RIGHT!
    E K – HANG LEFT!
    Mary – WHAT THE FUUUU–
    Tammy – GODDAMIT!
    Murv – Here, hold my beer…
    O-spring – Squeeeeeee!

    And we saw a thousand floaters hung up on the snags and logs
    As we fought to keep ourselves from their fate
    And we saw the bobbing beer cans and we heard the ghostly cries
    Of the drunks who ran the river long ago
    And the rocks were kickin’ our asses
    On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

    Echoing Shouts:
    Steve – Paddle LEFT!
    E K – SERPENTINE! SERPENTINE!
    Mary – STOP SINGING!!
    Tammy – GODDAMIT!
    Murv – Here, hold my beer…
    O-spring – Squeeeeeee!
    Steve – Whatever…
    Mary – Dammit, Steve!
    E K – Those assholes just threw trash in the river!
    Tammy – GODDAMMIT!
    Murv – (clunk clunk) … I’m okay… I thinkGimme a beer
    O-Spring – Squeeeeee!

    Now the memories are swirlin’ down the campground shower drains
    But the waters of the Meramec flow like tears
    And the rocks and snags and crashes will be a long remembered tale
    To be told around the campfires through the years
    Yeah, the rocks were tryin’ to kill us
    On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

    [Chorus]
    And we died a thousand times in that nine miles of hell
    The longest day of life we’d ever seen
    But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
    Then we ate some dinner at a truck stop

    Echoing Shouts:
    Steve – Paddle RIGHT… NO, LEFT!
    E K – O-spring, give me the paddle!
    Mary – I can’t bend my knee…
    Tammy – GODDAMIT!
    Murv – We should have brought Scotch…
    O-spring – Squeeeeeee!
    Steve – Lookit that fish…
    Mary – How does our canoe look?
    E K – Look, Mary, a snake…
    Mary – (SCREAM)
    Tammy – GODDAMMIT!
    Murv – There’s a blog in this…
    O-Spring – Here, hold my Gatorade…

    Fade out

    And there you have it. We made it home alive… Late. We’re bruised and battered and sore and blood was shed (I’m not kidding)…

    Funny thing is, I have a physical tomorrow. Before you ask, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just a “coming up on 50,000 mile” service check sort of thing. I suspect the doc won’t even mention the bruises and scrapes. He’s used to seeing me after E K has been “in a mood”…

    More to come…

    Murv