elk raising party
I sent out this invitation to my party:
Howdy folks, happy new year, both of them. (Chinese and Anglo) anyfuckingwho I’m having an old fashioned shed raising this next Sunday the 17th of Feb. You’ll have given your lady enough attention on the 14th to justify an afternoon doing some manly construction and beer/tequila drinking, followed by a bonfire at the beach for those who are willing. You can have your old lady meet you at the beach for that part, but as it stands, we will be men building buildings and bbq’ing on Sunday afternoon. The shed is basically done, so if you want to drink and throw an axe at the fence while others put the finishing touches on the roof and nail off the interior walls, then by god do it. It’s pretty small so not too many people can work on it at once anyway. I bought a couple of rifles, but don’t have any ammo. but we can hold them and point them at each other. In other words we’re gonna do a lot of things we used to do, were told we can’t do, never got around to trying. I don’t care if you’ve never swung a hammer or pulled a trigger, if you have hairy armpits, you’re in.
So the party was a success. Thanks to everyone who made the long trip to the Richmond District yesterday, I really appreciate it. Let’s recap: No one did anything to the shed, but Paul and I hung the elk on the wall. Then we shot bottle rockets through the chamber of my rifle, jumped off the shed into the rose bushes, kicked the beehive, got stung, kicked the bbq over and ruined the chicken so we went to the beach where i took my clothes off and ran into the ocean, but only up to my knees, then realized it was a really bright moon and everyone at the fire had seen my glowing ass. Now my arm hurts where matt conway put me in an arm bar and I can’t put pressure on my left foot. I believe I fractured it jumping over the fire and that was around midnight, so I went home and passed out in my sandy clothes and here we are. I’m heading to the emergency room sometime tomorrow if it doesn’t stop hurting.
Oh, Jon. I love your life.
Comment by Rachel — February 18, 2008 @ 1:50 pm
wish i was there, we could have broken our feet together, not that mine is broken now but i have broken my left foot three times, jumpin’ off a boat that was about to crash, jumpin’ off a pier onto a floating dock that i thought was only three feet instead of the eight it actually was (stupid tides) and tripping on ecstasy at china camp state park. make sure they give you the boot.
Comment by al — February 18, 2008 @ 2:39 pm
I need that party in my life right now. I’d kick the shit out of your beehive.
Comment by millar — February 18, 2008 @ 3:55 pm
Al, when you broke your foot, was it obvious? I can’t tell. It hurts wicked bad, but i can move my toes and kind of stand on it. It is swollen but no bruising yet.
Comment by Rolston — February 18, 2008 @ 11:16 pm
swollen, can’t stand on it without pain, bruising after a day or two. they can’t really do anything for you but give you some pain killers and a special boot to wear. Oh yeah and a cane.
Comment by al — February 19, 2008 @ 5:59 am
I broke all the feet on my 25 foot craftsman tape once when a house jack slipped and crushed it. It was pretty obvious but it didn’t swell or hurt a bit and I could still move my toes. I took beer for pain killers anyway – just in case. Kind of like a preemptive strike on Iraq. You can’t be to careful with broken feet.
Is that a porno movie on TV? It kinda looks like looking out from the inside of a big voogoona.
If you stare at that elk with your left eye closed he moves his right ear. Could still have a little life left in him. Needs to be shot again.
I had a friend who had his old man stuffed when he died so he could keep getting the old man’s social security checks. He put him in a window at the front of the house. Every once in a while the old man would blink. Some embalmers use cheap fluid, and they cut it with fluid from lighters they find on the side of the road. That could explain the blinking and also the phenomenon of spontaneous combustion of dead people.
I drove by a cemetery the other day and a lot of the graves were smoking. At least they don’t have to worry about dying from smoking cause they are already dead.
Embalmers need to be better regulated.
Don’t sit under that elk without a helmet.
Bad enough with a sore foot, add a crushing elk headache and your life would be a real toilet swirl.
Comment by iontheballpatriot — February 20, 2008 @ 6:58 pm
i appreciate all of those tips and moments of enlightment. erudite is the word, i think.
Comment by Rolston — February 21, 2008 @ 5:56 pm