2005-06-02

Really, it's not about us

4 comments:

coyote said...

Gentlemen: Agatha has boarded the Orient Express to search for an idyllic bower heavy on hip waders, small fishing boats and bottles of rum (ya gotta watch out for them dames from Torquay...) ; Conch Shell continues her picaresque search for Painted Stick somewhere in the far never-never; and at least one of our invisible neutral observers has blown this popsicle stand for a place where having a popsicle or two could be be a decided advantage.

It's on our shoulders. (Or, in the case of Chair, his seatpad.) Let the calorie-reduced, sugar-reduced, fat-reduced, carbohydrate-conscious, fibre-enhanced version of Self-Referential Wanking Lite begin!!!

4th Dwarf said...

I don't know what the rest of you are doing sitting around, I've got shopping to do.

First Canadian Tire, in the spirit of "go big or go home", chest waders, instead of hip waders, then for a small fishing vessel, there's a 26m boat with 30 ton cargo capacity in the Ukraine for only US$300k, but maybe this little 32 footer for only US$21K would be more cosy. (Arr, 've carse we'd be havin' t'instal gunports in 'em)

Finally, there's only one choice for rum.

coyote said...

Go for it, Dwarf! Us coyotes look silly in hip waders.

But if you're gonna get into the spirit(s) of 'go big or go home' anyway, howzabout something a little closer to home? Viz, the Santa Mafalda, which I, as a decided lubber, understand to be something called a 65-metre stern trawler of Portuguese registry -- and just now conveniently parked in St John's harbour. I hear that if the skipper's convicted, he'll be on the hook for a cool quarter-mill -- he'll need to raise scratch quick.

I'm sure you can pick it up for a song, along the lines of "hi-ho, hi-ho", with all those pretty rocks you've been inexplicably dredging out of the walls of your den.

Throw in a rum-based Cosmopolitan cocktail or two, and who knows who will come dancing 'round the ol' bower?

Agatha said...

I'm off the Orient Express for a little while now. Not an enjoyable experience. Was sick as a dog, and not because of too many rum drinks, if that's what you're all thinking. Fortunately, I met a contempory, 83-year-old Ethel Troutman, who kindly offered me a Halls cough drop while asking me if I was either Baptist or Pentacostal. My response still managed to get me a cough drop, although I had to endure a wee bit of Jesus-as-personal-saviour talk. Now that I'm off the Express, I'm properly medicated and feeling much better.
As I suggested before, I'm afraid my days of bower-hunting are long over--although it would be difficult to turn down a nice bottle of Captain Morgan. 4th Dwarf, I am flattered at the extensive research you have done on chest waders. Did I say hip waders? I meant chest waders. My God, you are a mind reader! These days I favour a nice splash of Sherry or a couple of belts of good old Gin and Tonic, something the Queen Mum and I used to enjoy together. And, I have important mystery-writing work to do here!
Now - let's talk about the 5M for a moment. I am concerned about what may be happening if she has returned to Ottawa. Her silence does not sit well with me. I fear there may be a dalliance with M. Chair, it may be time to put up that Shower Cam again.