Mel
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 6896
Loc: Excelsior Springs, MO
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Now, this last one was funny!!!!
-------------------- Member DU, Delta
Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names - John Kennedy
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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WATER...... It has been scientifically proven that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli bacteria found in feces, in other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of poop!
However, we do not run that risk when drinking beer because alcohol has to go through a distillation process of boiling, filtering and fermenting.
WATER = Poop
BEER = HEALTH
Free yourself of Poop, drink BEER!!! It is better to drink beer and talk chit than to drink water and be full of chit.
There is no need to thank me for this valuable information, I am doing it as a public service.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Ozark
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 4012
Loc: out in the woods
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Quote:
SwampFox said: Free yourself of Poop, drink BEER!!!
As a brewer, I've gotta say that ain't right.
The part about drinking water is correct. The Federal standard for safe drinking water is that it have no more than 1.1 colonies of e. coli (sewage bacteria) per liter. So, we're drinking a lot of that.
But in making beer, the long molecular starch chains in grains get broken down into simple sugars by "mashing" at certain temperatures.
In fermentation, those sugar molecules are then "eaten" by brewer's yeast, which is a fungus. Big fungi are mushrooms and toadstools, small fungi are yeast, the stuff on your wet basement wall, and the critters that make your feet stink and give you toe jam.
Yeast consumes sugar and changes it to glycogen, ethyl alcohol, and CO2. The glycogen is a protein that is used to grow more yeast, but the alcohol and CO2 are waste products that are excreted and discarded by the yeast cells.
So - drinking beer and avoiding water may keep you away from Poop, but the alcohol in beer is yeast Pee, and the carbonation is yeast Farts.
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Mel
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 6896
Loc: Excelsior Springs, MO
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Whew!!! I'm glad we got that straight.
-------------------- Member DU, Delta
Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names - John Kennedy
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Quote:
Ozark said:
Quote:
SwampFox said: Free yourself of Poop, drink BEER!!!
As a brewer, I've gotta say that ain't right.
The part about drinking water is correct. The Federal standard for safe drinking water is that it have no more than 1.1 colonies of e. coli (sewage bacteria) per liter. So, we're drinking a lot of that.
But in making beer, the long molecular starch chains in grains get broken down into simple sugars by "mashing" at certain temperatures.
In fermentation, those sugar molecules are then "eaten" by brewer's yeast, which is a fungus. Big fungi are mushrooms and toadstools, small fungi are yeast, the stuff on your wet basement wall, and the critters that make your feet stink and give you toe jam.
Yeast consumes sugar and changes it to glycogen, ethyl alcohol, and CO2. The glycogen is a protein that is used to grow more yeast, but the alcohol and CO2 are waste products that are excreted and discarded by the yeast cells.
So - drinking beer and avoiding water may keep you away from Poop, but the alcohol in beer is yeast Pee, and the carbonation is yeast Farts.
That's why I drink whiskey.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying: "Hi, how are you?"
I'm not the type to start a conversation in the restroom but I don't know what got into me, so I answered, somewhat embarrassed, "Doin' just fine!"
And the other person says: "So what are you up to?"
What kind of question is that? At that point, I'm thinking this is too bizarre so I say: "Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"
At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I hear another question. "Can I come over?"
Ok, this question is just too weird for me but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation. I tell them "No........I'm a little busy right now!!!"
Then I hear the person say nervously, "Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions."
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Mel
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 6896
Loc: Excelsior Springs, MO
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So, SF, how stupid did you feel?
-------------------- Member DU, Delta
Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names - John Kennedy
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Once Mel was a little boy who lived in the country. For bathroom facilities, he had to use an outhouse. The Mel hated it because it was hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and it stank all the time.
The outhouse was sitting on the bank of a creek, and Mel determined that one day he would push that outhouse into the water.
One day after a spring rain, the creek was swollen so Mel decided that today was the day to push the outhouse into the creek. So he got a large stick and pushed. Finally, the outhouse toppled into the creek and floated away.
That evening his dad sternly told him to sit down. Knowing he was in trouble, Mel asked why. The dad replied, "Someone pushed the outhouse into the creek today. It was you, wasn't it, son?"
Mel nodded meekly. Then he thought a moment and said, "Dad, I read in school today that George Washington chopped down a cherry tree and didn't get into trouble because he told the truth."
The dad replied, "Well, son, George Washington's father wasn't in that cherry tree!"
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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We all know those cute little computer symbols called "emoticons," where:
means a smile and
is a frown.
Sometimes these are represented by
:-)
:-(
Well, how about some "ASSICONS?" Here goes:
(_!_) a regular ass
(__!__) a fat ass
(!) a tight ass
(_*_) a sore ass
{_!_} a swishy ass
(_o_) an ass that's been around
(_x_) kiss my ass
(_X_) leave my ass alone
(_zzz_) a tired ass
(_E=mc2_) a smart ass
(_$_) Money coming out of his ass
(_?_) Dumb Ass
You have just been e-mooned!
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Not the brightest of ideas.....
Doctors Remove Lightbulb From Man's Anus
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Farting Preacher Video
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Toot-Tone
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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What do the star ship Enterprise, and toilet paper have in common?
They both circle Uranus in search of Klingons.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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For Her Future
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Beans, broccoli and crab cakes (video)
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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It was a hot Sunday mornin', Middle of July The choir was a singin' 'Bout the sweet by and by.
Everybody was a swayin' And sweatin' in the heat, We all bowed our heads down As the preacher took his seat.
My sister and my brother Stood next to my mother In the quiet at the close of the verse.
That's when daddy cut the big one.... At the Horn Lake Mississippi Missionary Baptist Church.
My sister rolled her eyes back, My brother bit his lip. My cousin just behind us Whispered, "Hey, who let it rip?"
I stuck my face in my shirtsleeve, Stared down at my shoes. Lord, you could hear a pin drop, As we stood there in the pew...
Heads were turnin', Eyes were burnin', Momma stuck her nose in her purse,
After daddy cut the big one At the Horn Lake Mississippi Missionary Baptist Church.
He cut the big one, It was a stinker. Then he broke the silence ~ With a snicker
And us kids started laughin', 'Til I thought we was all gonna burst.... After daddy cut the big one, At the Horn Lake Mississippi Missionary Baptist Church.
He said, "The devil made me do it..." Momma said it was the liverwurst.... And that's why daddy cut the big one, At the Horn Lake Mississippi Missionary Baptist Church.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Audio: Brown Bakededed Beans
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Video: A Mensroom Monolouge
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Friends are like butt cheeks. chit might separate them, But they always come back together.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Don't watch this one if you are squeemish...
The Hot Tub
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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A teacher was doing a study testing the senses of first graders using a bowl of Lifesavers. The children began to say:
"Red................cherry", "Yellow..........lemon", "Green............lime", "Orange.............orange",
Finally the teacher gave them all honey Lifesavers. After eating them none of the children could identify the taste."Well", he said, "I'll give you a all a clue; it's what your mother may sometimes call your father."
One little girl looked up in horror, spit her Lifesaver out and yelled: "Oh My God!!!! They're assholes!"
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.
We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however. I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without too much concern.
Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...
I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom.
Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good chit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wirecutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a chit. I went to the normal stall.
In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.
I began "The Move." For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of chit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer. I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall.
Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.
What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.
In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over chit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death.
My attention was thus diverted. At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of chit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The chit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.
Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the chit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of chit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.
Now, back to the vomit...
While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed.
OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles. In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.
In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in chit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid chit. All while thick chit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat. And there was no forking toilet paper.
What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.
About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being.
She left. The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage or just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.
Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.
When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.
The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7973
Loc: Mid Mo
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Here's the classic Griffin story that I'll call, as he did...
My Finest Hour
For about 6 years I hunted the same place almost daily. It was in the late 80's so there was only 30 days anyway. I hunted with the same guys day after day, 4 of us.
Usually I'd show up from just getting off work or just getting home from being out drinking.....so someone else drove and I slept the 2 hours it took to get to this particular spot.
When we got there, religiously, I'd take a nice healthy chit in the ditch next to where we parked. There was a Johhny on the Spot there...but I always like to just chit in the grass when I'm hunting.
After shitting, I'd get my hunting gear on and then join the boys for the mile walk down the levee and then the 1/4 mile waist deep wade out to where we liked to hunt.
One day, even after I stood waiting for it to happen, I didn't have to chit. The boys were antsy because it was cold as hell and the wind was howling out of the North.....it was gonna be a good day.
I didn't figure to make them wait anymore so I got dressed and off we went.....I felt good.
We waded out to our spot, set up the decoys, and I settled in with the first cigarette of the morning. I smoked back then.....and I miss it now....but I quit 6 years ago after my 1 year old son padded up to me with a butt in his mouth. Right then I figured fork this....he ain't learning it from me....and never smoked again.....but I digress.
As I stood there enjoying that cigarette and the quiet of the dark morning I felt the first rumble.....DAMN!
I waited a minute and sure enough....I've got to chit. Standing in waist deep water ain't conducive to a comfortable chit.....so I told my buds, "I'll be right back"...and headed for the levee.
I guess I'd made it about 100 yards or so....maybe 1/4 of the way....when I realized that I wasn't going to make it. I was already at the point where I was having to stop every 20 steps or so and take a deep breath, pinch my ass cheeks together, and wait for the cramp to pass......and I was beginning to panic.
I was shining my flashlight back and forth looking for ANYTHING that I could crawl up on and chit.....and then I saw it...about 40 or 5o yards away. A big old tree was laying on it's side.....a log really.....it hadn't been a tree for quite some time....but it was big enough to get up on and chit. So I headed for it.
I was taking small steps and having to stop and pinch and after about 30 or so yards the sweat was beading up on my forehead and I was in dire straights. I guess I got within about 20 feet of that big ass log when I felt a huge wave coming on from my bowels. I stopped and fought it for all I was worth.....but I was not man enough....and I chit in my pants.....now once it started, it felt so good, I just went with it. I mean, fork it, you might as well just go at this point....and go I did!!! Hell.... I filled my underwear and then felt it run down my right leg as I just stood there shitting....and it felt good!!!
Once I was done....admittedly...I was a damn mess. I had no idea what I was going to do but I waded over to that log and crawled up on it.
There really wasn't much I could do at that point so I figured I'd strip down and use my undershirt to clean myself off. Now it ain't easy taking all your clothes off on top of a log....but it was about 2 foot wide and provided ample room to get the job done.....but I still had to be careful.
I can tell you that chit had run all the way down to the top of my sock on my leg. It had filled my underwear and then ran down my long underwear and just soaked me and my jeans and covered me in chit.
I got my waders off and then took off my pants and long underwear and threw both of them in the damn water. My right sock had to go as well.
Then I took off my jacket and the couple layers I had on and got to my long undershirt...which I peeled off and tore into strips and began to clean my ass off.
Now there I stood, naked from the waist down, except for the left white cotton sock, and a white t-shirt on my upper body. I was cold....but it felt kinda good since I had been sweating so much trying not to chit.
So I'm dipping the shirt in the water and wiping the chit from my ass and leg when I catch the first ray of light cutting across the marsh.....and I watch it as it searches back and forth...and then I hear the voices...and hear the splashing of them men behind the voices in the water....and I begin to panic again!!!!
Unfortunately.....as I'm sure you have figured...there ain't no place to run and hide when you are standing naked on a log in 30 degree weather on top of 3 feet of water....so I did what any scared animal does....I froze where I stood and waited to see what would happen next.
And it was the worst.
The light got closer and the voices got louder until I could plainly hear one of the forkers say, "I know that log is right up ahead". The light was panning back and forth and on about the fourth pass it stopped right on my naked ass. And then the splashing stopped.....and then one of them said...."GODDAMN!!!!!...are you alright???"
"DO I forking LOOK LIKE I'M ALRIGHT????? GET THE forking LIGHT OFF OF ME!!!"
"I chit my pants"
The next sound I heard was basically....BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA X about 1,000,000.
Those forkers laughed at me for about 10 minutes it seemed. I just kept on cleaning and eventually put my waders back on and walked on by them. I was not sheepish......fork 'em....as I have said....I'm a man....at times I chit my pants.
I hunted the rest of the morning....luckily it was a fast shoot....most were at a two mallard limit.
I rode home with my waders on....and my buds laughed at me the whole way as I pounded beers and laughed with 'em.
It was my finest hour.
-------------------- "Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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