Canoeing with Sharks 2:
Am I Really on the Menu?
Am I Really on the Menu?
Continued from yesterday,
so please read my previous post:
Canoeing with Sharks
Otherwise,
I open this brief recap will suffice:
When I went camping with Bigfoot,
we got in a fight.
After I left him on shore while I went canoeing,
he summoned all kinds of sharks to attack.
I quickly tried to make amends,
so he called off the sharks.
Only the largest one didn’t get the message.
Or he got it; and ignored it.
The Mega-Giant Shark swam from below
and smashed the canoe in half,
which sent me flying high into the sky.
Like a highly-paid center fielder,
the shark waited below with open jaws,
ready to catch me and swallow me whole.
Bigfoot didn’t seem to be any help at all,
wailing away at my forthcoming annihilation.
When all of a sudden,
things got worse ...
As if falling toward the open jaws
of a huge honking shark wasn’t bad enough,
the hungry sea predator flapped his mighty tail
to rise toward me.
Talk about fast food!
The sucker couldn’t even wait for gravity.
“Hey Chewie!
A little help please!”
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoots, (Bigfeet?),
Sasquatches, Yetis, Abominable Snowpeople,
and other creatures covered in fur,
including my Uncle Cleatus and Aunt Carrie,
hate being called Chewbacca!*
Or Chewie.
(Which is short for Chewbacca.)
I knew that would get his attention.
Which it did.
Snapped him out his writing my eulogy.
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoot can’t swim.
Or maybe he can,
but he hates the water.
Takes forever for all his hair to dry.
So he couldn’t do a thing to rescue me.
Or could he?
Guess not.
My life flashed before my eyes
as my head and upper torso fell into the shark’s mouth.
I remembered the fun I had time-traveling.**
I regretted not being able to make Katharine McPhee
the happiest woman in the world.
Other than that,
I already planned the perfect last day of my life,***
so I was ready to check out.
I just didn’t want to.
Not through the intestinal tract of an overgrown guppy.
As the shark’s jaws started to snap shut,
which surely would have torn me asunder.
But not in a good way.
Something screeched and yanked me away.
Literally at the last possible millisecond.
Somehow Biggie summoned a pterodactyl
from the Inner Earth.****
Terry,
as I affectionately called the lifesaving pterodactyl,
flung me onto the shore.
The shark splashed down and swam away.
Terry shrieked and flapped away.
Although rejoicing to have survived
such a harrowing adventure,
I grimaced to see how Terry crapped
all over my life jacket.
Which,
although I didn’t think I had anything left in me,
made me barf once more all over said jacket.
Ew!
Was that my gall bladder?
Biggie didn’t mind my barf or the dinosaur poop.
He hugged me, happy that I was alive.
I hugged him back and said,
“You know I only meant the free prize
in the Cocoa Puffs; right?
I still get whatever comes inside
Trix and Lucky Charms.”
Biggie growled;
and the Goliath shark,
whom I affectionately dubbed Adolf Bin Laden,
plopped onto the shore next to us,
snapping his jaws like toddlers with tater tots.
I forced my famous smile and said,
“Just kidding”.
Biggie nodded at the shark,
who plopped back into the water;
and this time,
I’m pretty sure he really swam away.
But just in case,
I gave Biggie all the free toys he wanted;
and let him win every game we played.
Including Scrabble.
Even though QEZPNIK’s not a real word.
As to be expected,
the campground owner made me pay
for the smashed canoe
and the severely soiled life vest.
We agreed to go halfsies on the price,
since I convinced Bigfoot to give him an autograph.
Biggie agreed,
but out of spite,
he misspelled his name.
And that was me canoeing with sharks.
Whether that really happened;
or that was just an elaborate allegorical metaphor
for dealing with the politics of life,
I can honestly say:
“I’ll never wear a life jacket again.”*****
so please read my previous post:
Canoeing with Sharks
Otherwise,
I open this brief recap will suffice:
When I went camping with Bigfoot,
we got in a fight.
After I left him on shore while I went canoeing,
he summoned all kinds of sharks to attack.
I quickly tried to make amends,
so he called off the sharks.
Only the largest one didn’t get the message.
Or he got it; and ignored it.
The Mega-Giant Shark swam from below
and smashed the canoe in half,
which sent me flying high into the sky.
Like a highly-paid center fielder,
the shark waited below with open jaws,
ready to catch me and swallow me whole.
Bigfoot didn’t seem to be any help at all,
wailing away at my forthcoming annihilation.
When all of a sudden,
things got worse ...
As if falling toward the open jaws
of a huge honking shark wasn’t bad enough,
the hungry sea predator flapped his mighty tail
to rise toward me.
Talk about fast food!
The sucker couldn’t even wait for gravity.
“Hey Chewie!
A little help please!”
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoots, (Bigfeet?),
Sasquatches, Yetis, Abominable Snowpeople,
and other creatures covered in fur,
including my Uncle Cleatus and Aunt Carrie,
hate being called Chewbacca!*
Or Chewie.
(Which is short for Chewbacca.)
I knew that would get his attention.
Which it did.
Snapped him out his writing my eulogy.
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoot can’t swim.
Or maybe he can,
but he hates the water.
Takes forever for all his hair to dry.
So he couldn’t do a thing to rescue me.
Or could he?
Guess not.
My life flashed before my eyes
as my head and upper torso fell into the shark’s mouth.
I remembered the fun I had time-traveling.**
I regretted not being able to make Katharine McPhee
the happiest woman in the world.
Other than that,
I already planned the perfect last day of my life,***
so I was ready to check out.
I just didn’t want to.
Not through the intestinal tract of an overgrown guppy.
As the shark’s jaws started to snap shut,
which surely would have torn me asunder.
But not in a good way.
Something screeched and yanked me away.
Literally at the last possible millisecond.
Somehow Biggie summoned a pterodactyl
from the Inner Earth.****
Terry,
as I affectionately called the lifesaving pterodactyl,
flung me onto the shore.
The shark splashed down and swam away.
Terry shrieked and flapped away.
Although rejoicing to have survived
such a harrowing adventure,
I grimaced to see how Terry crapped
all over my life jacket.
Which,
although I didn’t think I had anything left in me,
made me barf once more all over said jacket.
Ew!
Was that my gall bladder?
Biggie didn’t mind my barf or the dinosaur poop.
He hugged me, happy that I was alive.
I hugged him back and said,
“You know I only meant the free prize
in the Cocoa Puffs; right?
I still get whatever comes inside
Trix and Lucky Charms.”
Biggie growled;
and the Goliath shark,
whom I affectionately dubbed Adolf Bin Laden,
plopped onto the shore next to us,
snapping his jaws like toddlers with tater tots.
I forced my famous smile and said,
“Just kidding”.
Biggie nodded at the shark,
who plopped back into the water;
and this time,
I’m pretty sure he really swam away.
But just in case,
I gave Biggie all the free toys he wanted;
and let him win every game we played.
Including Scrabble.
Even though QEZPNIK’s not a real word.
As to be expected,
the campground owner made me pay
for the smashed canoe
and the severely soiled life vest.
We agreed to go halfsies on the price,
since I convinced Bigfoot to give him an autograph.
Biggie agreed,
but out of spite,
he misspelled his name.
And that was me canoeing with sharks.
Whether that really happened;
or that was just an elaborate allegorical metaphor
for dealing with the politics of life,
I can honestly say:
“I’ll never wear a life jacket again.”*****
** See my previous posts:
Time-Traveling with Hollywood Hunks
and
Time-Traveling with Hollywood Hunks 2:
The Uncivil Civil War
*** See my previous post:
How We Spend Our Last Day on Earth Says A Lot
About Who We Are ...
**** See my previous posts:
***** Another line from my favorite movie: Jaws.
(My favorite movie until my screenplays get made!)
Dean Burkey:
Being eaten by a shark’s only funny;
if you or the shark
wears Groucho Marx glasses.
Author Unknown:
Who gives sharks presents on Christmas?
Santa Jaws!
From Channel Surfing:
“Uh-huh.”
Not realizing one shouldn’t interrupt when someone’s watching a scary shark movie, Cindy continued, “And remember we have dinner with my parents tonight at Daddy’s club.”
“Uh-huh.”
Doubting Brad’s attentiveness, she said, “I’m pregnant with octuplets.”
More horrified by what he heard than by anything in a movie about mutated CGI monster sharks, Brad bolted upright. “Dinner with your parents?!”
Cindy plopped next to Brad and stroked his hair. He sighed.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know how dull those dinners can be.”
Little did she know that past performance is not indicative of future results. …
Author Unknown:
Who is the shark community's
favorite 1950s film actress?
Dorsal Day
Dean Burkey:
The first time you sleep in a waterbed,
you will dream you are on the Titanic.
After the iceberg incident,
you will dream you are in the movie JAWS.
And when JAWS swims at you,
any bed becomes a waterbed.
Uploaded on Jun 29, 2011 by
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