Hobo Jungle
Ah well. Like I said, you had the coolest guess anyway since on fishing trips you never have a ruler around, just beer to measure things.
How many bottles did Mitch drink anyway? And were they bottles or cans? And was there any Labatt 50 up there or just Blue? And were there any tractors? If so, what color where they - green or red? Mitch! Enough about fish and wind, we need the real important stuff about your trip!
How many bottles did Mitch drink anyway? And were they bottles or cans? And was there any Labatt 50 up there or just Blue? And were there any tractors? If so, what color where they - green or red? Mitch! Enough about fish and wind, we need the real important stuff about your trip!
There is a 36" tape measure taped in the boat on the side.
We were drinkin' cans, as they can be crushed easily and hauled back out by the staff. The only thing that went in, in bottles, was another 5th of Yukon, (of which I took no additional sips, nips, or even a smell), a half-gallon of Baccardi Gold rum, and a smaller bottle of some 100 proof peppermint shit that I did not partake of either.
Wind be damned, it was a great trip. My worst day fishin' is better 'n my best day at work. However, next year we'll have 2 windsocks per boat instead of 1.
We were drinkin' cans, as they can be crushed easily and hauled back out by the staff. The only thing that went in, in bottles, was another 5th of Yukon, (of which I took no additional sips, nips, or even a smell), a half-gallon of Baccardi Gold rum, and a smaller bottle of some 100 proof peppermint shit that I did not partake of either.
Wind be damned, it was a great trip. My worst day fishin' is better 'n my best day at work. However, next year we'll have 2 windsocks per boat instead of 1.
If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
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Renovo PRR
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Tramp and Deee!!!! Great guess on winning Pete's cup!!!!!! As far as investing in CP stocks, this looks very promising:
Canadian Pacific announced they will be purchasing regional Dakota, Minnesota & Eastern for $1.4 billion. Not only will this extend CP's reach into the American Midwest, but this is also a strong signal that the new owners have an eye on the Powder River Basin. Recently, the DM&E was denied a loan to help fund their $6 billion Powder River Basin project that would allow them to build a third competitive line to serve the lucrative source of Wyoming low-sulfur coal. Pending approval by the STB, the sale should close in 30-60 days. -RAILROAD.NET via various newswires
Running that red block Charlie.
The Jungle protects itself miraculously against dross. How it does this is beyond me, but it is a blessing, and every blessing we get in life should be noticed and respected.
And there at the end of the bridge, where the two great bodies of land are joined nervously by the complex arrangement of steel and rivets, the ultimate vision of the an engineer’s 1926 mind, there tucked in at the behemoth’s base is an eatery, the kind of place that is suspended in air and owns no real estate except its dream to float, a place where you can imagine the owner rising before dawn to prepare his shrimp, standing in his tiny shop in rubber boots as the world begins to form in the fog outside. And when the owner would open his door for business, the spicy seasoning of shrimp meeting dissipating fog, he would light these four-color glass-rose lamps and a carnival glow would fill the counter area, reflecting down into the dull scratched zinc. It was the kind of thing that once you saw it you never forgot as long as you lived, though sometimes peeling and throwing back the shrimp right there in his dirty narrow kitchen with its anxiously steaming caldrons was probably the best way, he, a stocky man in an unapologetically stained apron who barely spoke English, offering you a chilled bottle of beer from his cooler on the floor even though it was technically night, the moment so quiet before the rest of the customers showed, when everything was still young and uncertain and you hadn’t taken the long grueling walk up the endless hill into the day yet.
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And there at the end of the bridge, where the two great bodies of land are joined nervously by the complex arrangement of steel and rivets, the ultimate vision of the an engineer’s 1926 mind, there tucked in at the behemoth’s base is an eatery, the kind of place that is suspended in air and owns no real estate except its dream to float, a place where you can imagine the owner rising before dawn to prepare his shrimp, standing in his tiny shop in rubber boots as the world begins to form in the fog outside. And when the owner would open his door for business, the spicy seasoning of shrimp meeting dissipating fog, he would light these four-color glass-rose lamps and a carnival glow would fill the counter area, reflecting down into the dull scratched zinc. It was the kind of thing that once you saw it you never forgot as long as you lived, though sometimes peeling and throwing back the shrimp right there in his dirty narrow kitchen with its anxiously steaming caldrons was probably the best way, he, a stocky man in an unapologetically stained apron who barely spoke English, offering you a chilled bottle of beer from his cooler on the floor even though it was technically night, the moment so quiet before the rest of the customers showed, when everything was still young and uncertain and you hadn’t taken the long grueling walk up the endless hill into the day yet.
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Last edited by Tramp on Mon Sep 10, 2007 5:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
Daisy wrote:pps. hev. where are you man, you're making me nervous. funny, i kinds missed seeing naked photos of you on morphine this morning. you could get used to it. meybe.
I don't know Daisy I think the morphine done me in. Care to join me for a smoke.........................
hev
If you want to find history, follow the train man..................
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