Thursday, June 11, 2009

“Cowboy Up!“

My, how I’ve let myself get carried away! Amongst the bursts of a shotgun, hours of power, glasses of mezcal, and beer miles broken by bouts of disgorgement, I have managed to survive this fine and, at times, treacherous land.  Many thanks to those who have followed my meandering monologues over the previous weeks.

I would, most importantly, like to thank my compatriots: Sean (quickest pub crawl in history), Rob (best beer die opponent, best car sleeper), Chase (dear lord, don’t point that shotgun at me, best mixed drink, tequila-based), Dave and Kristen (biggest bane to my handler’s chances of trying to score points in the decathlon), Mike and Hilda (best cameos, most amorous pocket-watch), Chris and Carina (best response to my handler’s made up ‘do you remember when?‘ queries, lowest combined blood pressure and resting heart rate, couple), and Shelley (most dominating closeout performance, loudest Guster sing-alonger, best greeting-card writer).

Even more than most importantly, the kindest gratitude my minuscule amphibian heart can output must be flowed towards Mr. Ryan, for the fine accommodations and his forgiving, albeit appropriately stern nature, which resulted, upon committing an unintentional offense against the first commandment of the ranch house (break nothing), resulted in my handler’s sentence of doing the dishes with a “man shine a,“ whatever that may imply. I am unsure as to whether or not I regret seeing it.

Oh, and I must thank this little fellow for stopping by and making me feel at home:

Unfortunately, I have a feeling we that he was as tipsy as myself and, if we indeed exchanged names, I regret that I cannot recall his.

Alas, my journey thus concluded on a glorious spring afternoon. Having alit from our rented automobile duly gone our separate ways, it was a bit easy to be optimistic knowing that, although I would be leaving my newly found friends, I was returning to a certain, safe destination.

Tucked away in my case, I was not witness to this spectacle, but the sea of camouflage shown above is a portion of a contingent of several hundred soldiers preparing to embark to Germany, en route to the sands of Iraq. I typically stray from waxing drab, but I wish them a fate involving a return as safe as my own.

All the best,


Posted by Pooptoad on 06/11 at 11:14 PM
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