Taking It Easy

My wife and I took a drive to the park and had a nice relaxing time, recently.  We needed a break.

Shelter house at Versailles State Park

Creek

Dam

Where my mom, dad, sister and our friends and relatives would camp.  Mostly, it was just the four of us (sister,mom,dad and I) that would stay overnight when we were kids and teenagers.   We slept in this heavy canvas tent.  Sometimes ten of us could fit in there if we positioned ourselves just right. We would sit around the campfire, tell crazy, raunchy and entertaining stories and made the most noise in the park, out of all the guests, camping in the campground .  The park rangers would tell us to quiet down a couple times while we were there but they were nice about it.  We had a great time at site 116.  There would be times when there were a dozen and a half of us, laughing and frequently enjoying ourselves with adult beverages and fun conversations.  :)      

This is the red wooden bridge from the inside as we drove.  It goes between the town and the park.  Look... there is a light at the end of the tunnel!

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part Three)

For PART ONE and PART TWO of this series, click the links.

As I've mentioned before, there are some rough trails at Red River Gorge. No doubt about it. Take this photo, for instance. It shows a typical example of what a challenging trail would be like.

See the tree roots halfway embedded in the ground? Those are great fun to trip over when you're exhausted or half drunk or both.

We ate pretty good during our camping trip at The Gorge. Steve cooked most of the food while I watched him do it. He was my cook bitch. But don't tell him I said that. On this night we had grilled deer steak. And no, those aren't maggots on the meat in the picture below. They're some kind of spice/seeds that I can't think of the name of, at the moment. My friend wanted to use this on the meat to tame a little of the gamey flavor that deer tends to have.

It didn't matter to me. I can eat venison in any shape or form, with spices or without. I'm a true carnivore, damn it! If I'm hungry enough, I'll eat the balls off a bison as he's taking a leak. Wait! Not while he's pissing! I'll wait til he's fast asleep and then I'll chow down on his gamey jewels. He shouldn't wake up. Nah!

Speaking of balls, have you ever tried Rocky Mountain Oysters? Yum is the word.

We would take a breather, every so often along the trails and rest our poor saggy old asses on the natural rock formations, enjoying the inviting beauty and calm of Mother Nature. I really needed to go on this camping trip last September. I was going through some emotional calamity involving my father or wife during this time (I forget what it was, exactly) and this experience helped to bring peace and perspective to my life. It was terrific therapy for yours truly. Plus, it was crazy fun.

During the course of our adventures at The Gorge, we imbibed in adult beverages. Hard to believe, eh? In the following picture, you'll see that I am exploring my creative side by producing a talk show I put together with stuff I found on the forest ground. Enjoy, won't you?

Further exploring both our creative sides, we go to the amphitheater to put on short skits and musicals for one another while completely fucked up. I have videos of our creative masterpieces and I must say... they're really quite embarrassing- even by my standards. Luckily, no one was around and the amphitheater is pretty well hidden in the forest.

All in all, we had a fun, relaxing and invigorating time at The Gorge. If you really ever want to truly get away from the noise of the city or craziness in your life, I would suggest going here or a rustic and primitive locale similar to this. It's like a gift for your mind and spirit and it does wonders for your emotional well being. I know it does for me.

And now our journey ends. I hope you enjoyed the jaunty tour and I hope you're able to get away from it all, someday and experience the wonders of nature in all of it's uplifting glory.

Later, dudes and dudettes.

Caribbean Adventure: Grand Cayman Islands

The day after our fantastic time in the Bahamas, our captain took us to the Grand Cayman Islands. Georgetown, specifically.

I loved Georgetown. It was so clean and beautiful. The waters in the lagoons were turquoise in color and crystal clear. The people there were hospitable and friendly. And the weather was absolutely beautiful. If I had a choice of living anywhere else in the world this moment, I would pick the Grand Caymans, for certain. My wife and I had a great time there.

Instead of embarking on any excursions, my wife and I took it easy. We drank some strong tasty drinks at the Hard Rock Cafe, had some fun shopping at the Bayshore Mall and Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville before venturing to a few lagoons to check out the various, exotic tropical fish swimming in the waters.

Check these out these photos of The Grand Caymans

Various memorabilia donated by rock artists to the Hard Rock Cafe and the main bar with all the drum cymbals

Other scenes of Georgetown, including Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville

The Stingray Fountain, in front of Bayshore Mall

We found this sign, detailing a bit of history of a pirate, sitting just outside Margaritaville. Had to take a picture of this. Heh heh.

Before going back to our ship, we stopped off at the Green Parrot for a couple of stiff drinks. We had to drown the sorrow of leaving the Caymans somehow. Heh heh. We really had such a great time time in Georgetown, we didn't want to leave. We found out that despite the lack of any excursions planned for this island, our casual exploration of it made for a relaxing, enjoyable day.

Icky, The Easter Bunny's Half Brother

Meet Icky, the Easter Bunny's half brother.

Icky will quietly slip into your house at night, before Easter morning, go into your refrigerator and steal all of your eggs. It doesn't matter to Icky if your eggs are colored or not, he will take them, along with any fresh or rotten vegetables you have. Actually, he prefers rotten vegetables over fresh because he enjoys scraping the hairy fungus on top and spreading the stuff on a piece of bread as if it were peanut butter. The porn magazines you have hidden aren't safe, either.

We won't discuss what he does with them. This is, after all, a family blog.

Yep.

After Icky has taken what he wants, he will go to your liquor cabinet and drink all your booze. After he drinks so much (he has trouble holding his liquor), Icky will projectile vomit onto your furniture in every room of your house. This is Icky's way of blessing your home.

If you wake up to the sounds of the deranged bunny's retching and eventually find him spattering out pre-digested carrots and bits of human fingers, he will quickly cease vomiting, look at you and growl, shaking frantically, while his big black bunny eyes increasingly dilate to the size of Magic 8 Balls. Completely enraged, Icky will leap up into the air towards you with the intention of taking you to the floor and biting off your head as if it were a rotten, maggot infested hunk of broccoli.

This would be a great time for you to run.

Unless you have a gun. If you do have a gun with you, you must shoot Icky right between the eyes or he will not be stopped. Failure to hit Icky in his "soft spot", will only enrage Icky further. If he was not killed and is on top of you, gnawing your scalp with his nasty ass, dripping-with-slime teeth, please feel free to scream. At this point, it won't matter. Icky has the strength of ten Incredible Hulks. Before you can shout, "I've fallen and I can't get up because I'm pinned down by an insane giant rabbit!", Icky will have bitten off the top of your head, scooped out your brain matter and gingerly place it into a festive, brightly colored Easter basket, complete with large, fancy decorative bow.

Later, after Icky's had his way with your corpse, he will commence to sing a beautiful composition. Enticed by the rabbit's song, neighboring animals will suddenly pour into your house through the chimney, windows or magically appear out of nowhere. Once they've gathered around Icky and your headless body, the animals will dance merrily to Icky's delightful tune, bringing forth a sense of harmony and peace to all of God's creatures.

After the celebration has ended, Icky will hop away to the next house.

This a been a public service announcement from the kind, considerate and loving folks from Psycho Carnival. Happy Easter, everyone!

Survived The Holidays

The mad scrambling done for the sake of Christmas preparations. The cooking. The clean ups. The gift givings. The multiple family visits. The drinking and whatnot on New Year's Eve . The headaches. The stress. The rare periods of bliss. The chaos. It's all over except the recuperating.

The moments that allowed me to engage the world of blogging, in any respect, were very few and far between. It may seem as if I ignored everybody and this site, but believe me, it wasn't a decision I wanted to make. I'm far behind on blog visiting. I promised one dude I'd write a post, for Christmas, on his site. That didn't happen either.

Right now, my head is chock full of sludge. That's the result of way too much "fun" on New Year's Eve. The party we hosted didn't officially stop until five in the morning. And I'm still trying to recover. It's been almost 24 hours since the party ended, too. I'm way too old for this shit.

To all of you I have shunned, both friend, family member and blogging pal, I am truly attempting to rise from the ashes of these damnable holidays to begin "socializing" again.

Please be patient and try to keep the noise down.

Santa's North Pole

My wife, when she was 12 years old, was already starting to fill in at the top. In other words, her words, she had a rack. I wouldn't know. Coincidentally, we lived in the same neighborhood at the time, but I really didn't know her. The first time she ever saw me, I was up in a tree making noises like a monkey. But that's another story.

For that reason-and many more-I'm surprised she agreed, years later, to marry me. But I digress.

Anyway, her mom convinced her to sit on Santa's lap that year in our town's Santa's Castle. My wife had told her she really didn't feel like it. Santa's Castle was basically a red and white shed on wheels. It kind of resembled a castle. If you squinted long enough at it and drank enough tequila.

Santa promted her to come forward, noticing she was embarrassed and a little nervous. Finally, she got the nerve and sat on his lap. Lo and behold, my wife said she felt Santa's North Pole bumping into her butt crack. She was so shocked and frightened by this, she quickly got off jolly ol' St. Nick's lap, posthaste. When she turned around, sure enough, he was saying, "Ho ho
ho" while "pitchin' a tent" in his festive red pants.

She also said she could smell the alcohol on his breath during the short time she was on his lap.

I forgot to ask her if Santa inquired as to why she got off before he had the chance to ask her what she wanted. Maybe he figured it out in his drunken stupor.

She never thought of anybody in a Santa suit quite the same way since. She laughs about that incident now. I'm glad. Heh heh.

Watching The Fire During Hippie Thanksgiving

My sister hosted Hippie Thanksgiving this year, Saturday. There, we had turkey, green bean casserole, a cheesy potato dish, a variety of pies, deer meat, a big bonfire after the meal and I don't know what else. I was a little drunk later that night. Details are fuzzy.

Most everybody contributed something to the festivities. Could have been food. Could have been an alcoholic concoction. Could have been a funny joke or story. Could have been a jab to the kidneys. Who knows?

It was a great time. Got to talk to friends I hadn't seen for half a year to a year. We talked about politics, idiotic thieves, throwing friends in the bonfire and -wait- Did I just say throwing friends in the bonfire? Well, we talked about it. There was a time when we would all get nice n' fucked up and actually tried sending a friend or two into the flames of hell. One of them, in particular, was Gerk. Throughout the years, he's been singed by the fire a good number of times during our parties. Either his feet or his crotch have tasted the heat of the fire every now and then. Oh, how he'd scream. Heh heh. Yes, good times.

Sometimes, we would set unopened cans of baked beans or whatever we could find upon the hot coals in the pit. Sure enough, they would explode, sending shrapnel and showers of bubbling hot bean particles upon our drunken asses. Before the impending explosions, a few of us would run behind trees. Others would flee behind the huge propane tank that sits only twenty feet away from the fire pit. Some of waited patiently for the blast to hit us in the face. The anticipation was as thick as crusty pudding.

Pass the whisky and moonshine please. Don't want ta be feelin' it. Ka-Pow!

What fun!

But we're all old now. Our tribe of friends are in their late thirties to mid 40's. We've outgrown those stunts, for the most part. Kind of sad. Kind of expected. Now we only make threats of roasting Gerk in the fire. He laughs nowadays, knowing he is safe from that scenario. That, too, is sad. I miss all of us chasing him down, viciously grabbing hold of every wriggling limb and carrying him to the pit.

Aside from all that, it was a relaxing evening this past Saturday. My friends and I sat close to the fire, watching it, mesmerised by the flames. It was cold. Around 20 something degrees. But that didn't matter. All that matters is telling old stories, sharing laughs with friends and watching the fire.