this past weekend, the scientist came to good ol' virginny to pay me (the yeti) a visit. this was no run of the mill visit, this was a free fishing weekend in virginia visit. and let me tell you, virginia could not have picked a better weekend on which to have free fishing. we had absolutely nothing but sunshine here...not a cloud in the fucking sky! this would have been great if the temperature didn't crest 100 degrees each and every day this past weekend. it was so hot that the rash caused by my balls rubbing the inside of my thigh had rashes. the boys were hanging low and loose this weekend.
friday night, we headed out to bottom's up pizza and had ourselves a slice (bochman had the mexican pizza and i had the loaded). after which, we went to capital ale house for some barley pop and giant pretzel. i can't remember what we talked about, but i do remember that we laughed a lot. i'm sorry to hear that the sciencette's cat passed away. we did end up drawing a huge chalk penis on beardo's patio when we got home from the bar. it was all balls.
saturday, the scientist and i decided to head to lake anna to do a little fishing. but wait, i'm getting a little bit ahead of myself. first, we each had to shit no less than 15 times. by the time we left, my toilet was working like a well oiled machine. we did make ourselves a hardy breakfast of bacon and eggs. the trick with the eggs is to fry them up in a little bit of the bacon grease...not too much though, you want to eat the eggs, not screw them.
finally we were out the door. we got on ol' route 64 westbound and turned on some bluegrass tunes. a bus blew a tire in front of us. it was pretty sweet. rubber and lug nuts were flying everywhere. thankfully some good samaritan stopped to help out. neither of us could ever be confused with being a good samaritan. maybe good gentiles, but never a good samaritan. we got to lake anna state park (had to pay $5 to get in...i'm not sure what kind of horseshit that is) and spoke with the park ranger about good fishing spots. she totally wanted the d. there was no ring on her finger. i think she was an adult ginger-kid too. so we got our tackle and beer out of the car (no alcohol allowed in the state park, they might as well have dared us to drink it) and headed for the trail along the lakes edge.
let me tell you about the shenanigans we saw. a shitload of mexicans in the water, fully clothed, singing hymns. it was some for kind of god-damned church...in a STATE park. so much for the separation of church and state. stupid christians. we wound around the lakes edge until we came to a cove that looked promising. we baited up and began fishing. bochman had a hit right away and reeled himself in a fine looking bluegill. i was up next with a smallmouth bass. after a little while, i had one on and was bringing it in close to the bank when bochman realized that while he was watching me fight the 5 inch bluegill that his bobber was missing. he gave a tug on the line, but unfortunately had about 10 yards of slack in his line. had he been able to set the hook, he would have had himself a nice catch. instead, the fish that came to be known as bassquatch got away. bassquatch would be the biggest fish we saw all day. we fished a little while longer and bochman caught a bunch of small walleye.
i didn't have too much luck from there on out. i was fishing a spoon and on my first cast, it got snagged on a rock in the shallow. no problem, i took my boots off and waded in to unhook it. by this time, it was about as hot out as the tabasco coated finger krause shoved in his eye. i decided that i should go for a little swim. i dove in and was playing like the big little otter that i am when i felt something in my pocket. don't worry, it wasn't my penis, it's not that big. no, it was my car key. thank god i didn't lose it in the lake. so i head toward shore to put the key on the bank when i realize that my wallet is in my back pocket. it was water logged to beat all hell. what other surprises did i have awaiting me in my pockets???? only my cell phone. the phone that i had for 5 years; the phone that was like a child to me, was no more. the water poured out of it. i was saddened. bochman laughed. kill you! needless to say, i had to invest in a new phone yesterday. the funeral service for my old phone will be held this friday. in lieu of flowers, i ask that you send donations to dr. yeti c/o the scientist.
by this time the fish had stopped biting and it was getting to hot to stand, so we started trekking back out. we got halfway through the parking lot when we ran into beardo and ricky who were coming to join us. you see, those lazy bastards couldn't make the 8am start time. KILL. so we headed over to another part of the lake to see what fishing opportunities it held. well, there were none. there was no shade and no sense in even casting out. so, we all took a dip.
we were all pretty hungry by this time, so we decided to leave and find a place to eat. we found a local place called chelsea jo's. the food was actually pretty good. i had a catfish sammich, bochman had some chicken tenders, beardo had nachos and ricky had a hamburger. apparently this establishment is known for their drink, "the dirty banana". it makes me giggle just thinking about it. we did see some large woman there bogart an ice cream sundae from her kid. it was pretty disgusting, but we all got a laugh. after that, our fishing trip was pretty much over. we headed back to richmond and sacked out after a meal and the china buffet. well, i should say that i sacked out. i was a total puss...a jon-benet if you.
i'm sure there are some details that i left out, but i've typed a lot and i'm too lazy to type anymore. bochman can add an addendum to this post to clue you in on the things that i've skipped over. things like the "man-scouts".
That a right-wing-blog would impugn my patriotism because I said children should learn to read, and could get better jobs by doing so, is beneath contempt. Noel Sheppard says, "Nice sentiment when the nation is at war, Stephen." I guess he feels ignorance and illiteracy are OK when the country needs cannon-fodder. I guess he also feels that the war in Iraq has nationwide approval. Well, it doesn't have mine. It is a waste of national resources. . . and that includes the youth and blood of the 4,000 American troops who have lost their lives there and for the tens of thousands who have been wounded. I live in a national guard town, and I support our troops, but I don't support either the war or educational policies that limit the options of young men and women to any one career--military or otherwise. If you agree, find Sheppard on the internet, and send him an email:
"Hi, Noel--Stephen King says to shut up and I agree."
The millions and millions of Dr. Yeti's fans all know my sister Goiter and how she gets pissed when I celebrate Chuck Norris's birthday and not hers. I've tried to make amends for it, but I'll never live that one down.
What some of you may not know is that the Scientist has an older sister as well. We'll call her Goiter's Sister. She's the one that recently got married and whose wedding I've never written about on here because I've been busy...and lazy.
Anyway, it turns out that Goiter's Sister is a new fan of the blog. She enjoys reading about my misery and comparing me to Michael Ian Black for some reason. She was confused for a long time about when it was me posting and when it was the Yeti, but I think I've got her straightened out.
Goiter's Sister is a little goofy. She has a history degree, but she's like a ninja IT security professional downtown now. I guess that makes sense though, because a degree in history is only slightly more useful that degrees in Art History, Communications, and/or Latin. She also has a one-eyed dog named after beer, a penchant for the baton, and a vicious bubble butt like a black chick.
From a historical perspective, Goiter's Sister used to bite her nails. I mean, she really gnawed on these things, down to nubs. Then, one day, she actually grew out her thumb nail to quite some length and wanted to show it off. She came up to me and said, "Look at my nail. Look at how long and sharp it is!"
She then proceeded to demonstrate the sharpness by raking it down my hand, opening a bloody wound, and scaring me for life. It's only a 2 cm scar, but it will be there forever.
Speaking of sharp things and Goiter's Sister, she also marveled over how sharp she got a pencil one day. She ran over and said, "Look at how sharp this pencil is!" and then jammed it into my denim-covered quadricep and snapped the tip off. I've got to say, it must have been a mighty good sharpening job she did on that pencil because it gored through my jeans, skin, and meat with the greatest of ease.
As some of you may already know, the toilet on the international space station has been broken for 2 weeks. This is the only toilet in the whole place. Two weeks, one broken toilet, three astronauts...I don't like that math.
What the crap did they do?
It's not like you can just go outside and pee in the bushes. I'm sure there are some resealable containers somewhere on the space station, but collecting two weeks worth of urine and feces from 3 people starts to add up.
I like to think they that all just drop a deuce in an airlock somewhere, and then once a day, seal it off from the inside and blow everything out into space. If you don't know what I mean, watch any of the "Aliens" movies, and I'm sure Sigourney Weaver will demonstrate the technique on an alien. What kind of name is Sigourney anyway; is it Dutch?
Anyway, back to the human excrement. They're trying to fix the problem today, so let's just hope that astronauts/cosmonauts make good plumbers too. Saturn's rings are nice, but Earth doesn't need a ring of frozen piss and butt nuggets; we've got enough problems already. It's ok to have secret nukes and satellites in orbit, but I don't want to get hit by a falling ass-teroid, if you can smell what I'm cookin'.
Hey everyone, I just wanted to let you know that I've been hired on as a freelance editor at American Journal Experts. Basically, what that means is that I edit scientific articles for AJE (a firm that performs English editing for researchers around the globe) in my spare time. If you need your work polished for publication, come check us out.