![]() |
My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
30DBC PROMPT: "There are strange sounds outside the tents but when we shine the flashlights out there, nothing is visible. In the morning, we see these interesting footprints all around camp. It was Amy's turn to cook breakfast so she went to get the food supplies and discovered that everything was opened and half eaten. What are we going to do? What kind of footprints do you think these are?"![]() ![]() Good afternoon campers! amy-Finally writing a novel. ![]() ![]() ![]() Well, having some Boy Scout camping experience, along with being the co-leader of our little journey into the wild with Lyn's a Witchy Woman ![]() ![]() Enjoy your Frosted Flakes with raccoon turds, jerks. ![]() See, animals in nature have these crazy wicked senses of smell, and they know not only where you keep your food, but how to get at it so that it wrecks your whole trip. I suggested tying up all the important stuff in garbage bags and hoisting them far up a tree, because bears and raccoons will fuck up a bag of potato chips like it's nobody's business. See, they're not domesticated like us, so they have to rely on instinct when they're hungry...they can't just go to the grocery store or Dairy Queen when they want a li'l treat. Why would they when all they want is your food, stored at ground level, in easy-to-claw-open packaging? I can't even open a damn foil or plastic condiment packet properly, but these filthy SOB's can destroy the cardboard on a box of macaroni 'n' cheese and eat the dry noodles and cheese powder faster than it takes you to boil the water for proper mac 'n' cheese enjoyment. We, of opposable thumbs and independent thinking, can only stand and stare in awe at their destruction for like, 15 minutes, before we realize "Oh shit! Campers gotta eat too!" Well, until our next trip into town for all the other crap we forgot to bring, I hope a couple of you are some avid fishermen, because that might be our only source of food for today. There are a lot of things in this world that I am not, and one of them is the person who catches, guts, and grills amphibious creatures that shoot their excrement directly into their habitat. Nope, no thank you. My role in this food chain is strictly the end result of the mission...making sure it gets into my belly. For vegetation, I suppose we could take a hike and see if there are any Sumac trees...I always thought they kinda looked like redder, fuzzier Lilacs in bloom, and since it's still warmish out, maybe the deer haven't gotten to all the low-hanging seeds yet. You can almost eat the seeds like a fruit, or pour hot water over them to steep and filter with paper towels for Sumac Tea. Or, we could do the really smart thing: pool some money together and find the nearest grocery, convenience, or mega super ultra Walmart-type store and get some real food. And for the love of god, get some sturdy coolers, some rope, and extra strong garbage bags, so we can raise up our food at night and not have to deal with this again. BCF PROMPT: "You are on a long flight and when you reach into the pocket of the seat, you discover a handwritten note that clearly was addressed to you, but how? And what does it say?" It'd have to be coming from someone with serious stalking abilities, I figure...although I do happen to know a few people who ended up working as flight attendants for awhile, and it probably wouldn't be too off of me to mention to them "Hey, I'll be on Such-And-Such Airlines the week of August 15th-21st, going to <pick a city>...are you gonna be working?" Which is kinda a dumb thing to ask, because it's not like you're gonna automatically party with these people while they're at work. But then again, maybe if the planets properly aligned and one of my gorgeous stewardess (is it still appropriate to call them that? I don't know. ![]() MUSICAL BREAK!! ![]() ![]() Nobody from Team Orangutan has posted yet today in "Barrel of Monkeys" ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() I'll never claim to be a Joe Cocker aficionado, but he does have one of the most unique voices in all of music (when he's not taking eight minutes to sing a three minute song or cheesin' out someone else's lyrics and turning pop songs into depressing, campy ballads). THE DAILY BOX SCORE: ![]() This is only slightly embarrassing, because in the nearly two years I've been in Cortland, I've hardly eaten out anywhere that wasn't a big stupid chain restaurant or fast food hellhole (the one place I've eaten at more than once actually closed awhile ago). I live next door to a diner, but I've only eaten there a few times and it's, well, diner food. And I've had pizza from a couple of the pizza places, but it's not really been anything to scream about. Plus, I'm never really great about heaping praise on anyone, anyplace, or anything without coming off as sounding like a hideous fanboy who's obsessed with whatever. I can tell you the one place that I probably won't eat at again though...Dickey's Barbecue Pit ![]() The whole setting reeks of what it must be like for cattle to be herded into a slaughterhouse. The in-door that guides you directly to the counter with those weird removable line-shapers that frown upon movement back into the line if you have a problem with your order, very little counterspace where you pick up your food, and a tiny dining room that encourages you to leave as quickly as they'd prefer you come back. I went there last summer with my mom for my birthday, and I was anticipating a more original, sit-down, steakhouse setting...a hostess, a waitress, and a server, and not some pseudo fast food situation. No, I wasn't down with Dickey's from the minute we walked in. I ordered two kinds of meats- I believe beef and turkey- that both came off of industrial slicers and looked like they were bought straight up out of the deli counter at your local grocery store. The turkey itself had a very processed taste to it, despite the advertising that it was not. Kinda like how Burger King burgers are "flame broiled", which is code for frozen beef patties precooked with grill marks placed in them and reheated by microwave for efficiency. Real barbecue joints usually have a small building directly on their property where they can smoke their meats on site...what should've been my first clue about Dickey's was that it was in a strip plaza, which probably has some kind of zoning regulations against that kind of true meat awesomeness. But hey, if Dickey's is your kind of thing, cool. Good for you and your soulless, unimaginative personality. I won't be recommending this place to anyone anytime soon. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Ok friends...that about does it for me today...time to see what else is goin' on around here. Peace, pretty city women, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |