Canoeing with Sharks
Since Bigfoot and I had so much fun
Backpacking in Bermuda,*
we decided to go camping.
Sadly,
many campground owners are raving species-ists.
They don’t allow “animals” to stay in their campgrounds.
And more sadly,
um, sadliericious,
they think of Bigfoot as an animal
and not a hairy uncle.
I put a hunter’s cap on Bigfoot’s head
and told him to let me to do the grunting.
I mean, talking.
The hunter’s cap wasn’t enough to fool
the tobacco-spittin’, trigger-happy bumpkin
at the first place, so at the second place,
I had Biggie wear a college sweater
from Ryker’s Community College.
Fortunately, the second dude saw the word Ryker’s;
and let us stay at his campground,
because he stayed at Ryker’s prison.
What I didn’t realize was that,
in the same way I can communicate with Bigfoot,
Biggie can communicate with sharks!
I found out that fascinating bit of trivia the hard way.
I went canoeing after we had a fight.
Well, I wouldn’t call it a fight,
but let’s just say,
Bigfoot earned the name Skunk Ape.
(If you know what I mean.)
I admit it, last time, that was my fault.
But this time, it was totally his.
If you’ve ever been around
a flatulent person of enormous proportions,
you realize how you need to flee a cabin,
no matter how “spacious” and “luxurious”,
so I went canoeing without him.
Thought the water and open air would clear my nostrils.
But it’s Biggie’s own fault,
I told him to avoid dairy.
Yet he
chugged a couple jugs of chocolate milk
while gorging on chunks of cheese.
And he wolfed down a can or two of baked beans.
To which he added hot sauce.
What most people don’t know about Bigfoot
is that he suffers from abandonment issues.
Something about being the last of his kind
makes him feel that way.
(I know what that’s like.)
So when I left to go canoeing,
he growled in a way I’d never heard before.
And that’s when the sharks showed up!
Obviously,
as evident in the picture above,
I didn’t even see the sharks at first.
I kept canoeing happy as can be.
Putting on my smiley face to mask
my rage and repulsion at having been stuck
in close quarters with a gas-imploding hulk.
Right after that picture was taken,
the person who took it, Sluggo,
the special friend of the campground owner
who escaped prison just to be with him,
fell overboard when something below rocked the boat.
Fortunately,
for me anyway,
Sluggo emailed me the picture beforehand.
Before hand, foot, and every other part of him
became bite-sized delights for the hungry sea monsters.
I’m not saying justice was served,
but I will say an escaped serial killer
got a taste of his own medicine
when he became a breakfast cereal
for a school of frenzied sharks.
So that left me alone to play “Don’t Capsize the Boat”
as bigger and bigger sharks pounded the hull.
Catching a glimpse of Biggie smiling
liked a juiced Cheshire cat,
I said, “Okay, Biggie. You made your point.
You can have milk on your Cocoa Puffs.
But only for breakfast;
and you have to go for a long walk alone
before you come back to the cabin.
Agreed?”
As Sasquatch considered my offer,
more sharks attacked.
And just like the USS Minnow,
“the tiny ship was tossed”.**
Being tossed about so violently,
and having witnessed the gory way
Sluggo fed the wildlife,
I got sick and barfed all over my life jacket.
I didn’t realize I’d eaten that much!
I don’t think I had.
I think I puked out an appendix, a couple tonsils,
and whatever else our bodies don’t really need.
Maybe even an adenoid or two too.
I’m a big fan of life,
so even though I “lost my lunch”,
as well as several meals prior,
I couldn’t stop rowing and frantically pounding
the snouts of the attacking sharks.
In the midst of menacing shark frenzy,
I sensed the largest of the predators rising from the depths.
I knew a sea monster of that magnitude
could easily capsize the canoe and swallow me whole.
Like Quint says:
“A little shaking; a little tenderizing;
and down I’d go.”***
I could feel the mammoth monster speeding closer.
In a last ditch ever to avoid feeding the fish,
I called out to Biggie,
“I’ll let you keep the free prize that comes inside
every delicious box!”
Bigfoot growled with delight.
Most of the sharks got the message.
Too bad the big one zooming from below
didn’t get the memo in time.
He shattered the hull with his jaws,
which tossed me several stories high into the air.
Getting motion sickness from being flung so high,
I messed up my life jacket once again.
As I finally started to fall,
plummeting back toward the water,
the mongo shark waited below me with his jaws agape.
He almost seemed to smile.
A part of me felt strangely flattered.
I mean, I always thought I looked delicious.
But it was nice hearing it from someone else.
Biggie howled like a wounded werewolf in a B movie.
He stood too far away to intervene.
Although speeding toward my doom,
I managed to see Bigfoot had a tear in his eye.
But just when all hope seemed lost,
what I thought could never happen,
happened.
My situation worsened.****
TO BE CONTINUED!
Backpacking in Bermuda,*
we decided to go camping.
Sadly,
many campground owners are raving species-ists.
They don’t allow “animals” to stay in their campgrounds.
And more sadly,
um, sadliericious,
they think of Bigfoot as an animal
and not a hairy uncle.
I put a hunter’s cap on Bigfoot’s head
and told him to let me to do the grunting.
I mean, talking.
The hunter’s cap wasn’t enough to fool
the tobacco-spittin’, trigger-happy bumpkin
at the first place, so at the second place,
I had Biggie wear a college sweater
from Ryker’s Community College.
Fortunately, the second dude saw the word Ryker’s;
and let us stay at his campground,
because he stayed at Ryker’s prison.
What I didn’t realize was that,
in the same way I can communicate with Bigfoot,
Biggie can communicate with sharks!
I found out that fascinating bit of trivia the hard way.
I went canoeing after we had a fight.
Well, I wouldn’t call it a fight,
but let’s just say,
Bigfoot earned the name Skunk Ape.
(If you know what I mean.)
I admit it, last time, that was my fault.
But this time, it was totally his.
If you’ve ever been around
a flatulent person of enormous proportions,
you realize how you need to flee a cabin,
no matter how “spacious” and “luxurious”,
so I went canoeing without him.
Thought the water and open air would clear my nostrils.
But it’s Biggie’s own fault,
I told him to avoid dairy.
Yet he
chugged a couple jugs of chocolate milk
while gorging on chunks of cheese.
And he wolfed down a can or two of baked beans.
To which he added hot sauce.
What most people don’t know about Bigfoot
is that he suffers from abandonment issues.
Something about being the last of his kind
makes him feel that way.
(I know what that’s like.)
So when I left to go canoeing,
he growled in a way I’d never heard before.
And that’s when the sharks showed up!
Obviously,
as evident in the picture above,
I didn’t even see the sharks at first.
I kept canoeing happy as can be.
Putting on my smiley face to mask
my rage and repulsion at having been stuck
in close quarters with a gas-imploding hulk.
Right after that picture was taken,
the person who took it, Sluggo,
the special friend of the campground owner
who escaped prison just to be with him,
fell overboard when something below rocked the boat.
Fortunately,
for me anyway,
Sluggo emailed me the picture beforehand.
Before hand, foot, and every other part of him
became bite-sized delights for the hungry sea monsters.
I’m not saying justice was served,
but I will say an escaped serial killer
got a taste of his own medicine
when he became a breakfast cereal
for a school of frenzied sharks.
So that left me alone to play “Don’t Capsize the Boat”
as bigger and bigger sharks pounded the hull.
Catching a glimpse of Biggie smiling
liked a juiced Cheshire cat,
I said, “Okay, Biggie. You made your point.
You can have milk on your Cocoa Puffs.
But only for breakfast;
and you have to go for a long walk alone
before you come back to the cabin.
Agreed?”
As Sasquatch considered my offer,
more sharks attacked.
And just like the USS Minnow,
“the tiny ship was tossed”.**
Being tossed about so violently,
and having witnessed the gory way
Sluggo fed the wildlife,
I got sick and barfed all over my life jacket.
I didn’t realize I’d eaten that much!
I don’t think I had.
I think I puked out an appendix, a couple tonsils,
and whatever else our bodies don’t really need.
Maybe even an adenoid or two too.
I’m a big fan of life,
so even though I “lost my lunch”,
as well as several meals prior,
I couldn’t stop rowing and frantically pounding
the snouts of the attacking sharks.
In the midst of menacing shark frenzy,
I sensed the largest of the predators rising from the depths.
I knew a sea monster of that magnitude
could easily capsize the canoe and swallow me whole.
Like Quint says:
“A little shaking; a little tenderizing;
and down I’d go.”***
I could feel the mammoth monster speeding closer.
In a last ditch ever to avoid feeding the fish,
I called out to Biggie,
“I’ll let you keep the free prize that comes inside
every delicious box!”
Bigfoot growled with delight.
Most of the sharks got the message.
Too bad the big one zooming from below
didn’t get the memo in time.
He shattered the hull with his jaws,
which tossed me several stories high into the air.
Getting motion sickness from being flung so high,
I messed up my life jacket once again.
As I finally started to fall,
plummeting back toward the water,
the mongo shark waited below me with his jaws agape.
He almost seemed to smile.
A part of me felt strangely flattered.
I mean, I always thought I looked delicious.
But it was nice hearing it from someone else.
Biggie howled like a wounded werewolf in a B movie.
He stood too far away to intervene.
Although speeding toward my doom,
I managed to see Bigfoot had a tear in his eye.
But just when all hope seemed lost,
what I thought could never happen,
happened.
My situation worsened.****
TO BE CONTINUED!
(I hope.)
Backpacking with Bigfoot in Bermuda.
** Line from the “Gilligan’s Island” theme song.
*** Quint and slightly adapted line from “Jaws”.
**** Lines from File #145:
Unraveling the Mystery of the Mummy
in “Monster Laughs”.
Come Back Tomorrow for:
Canoeing with Sharks 2:
Am I Really on the Menu?
Author Unknown:
What did the street shark say
when something radical happened?
JAWESOME!
From Seasons Without Reason:
Beach fun at Ocean City.
After seven swimmers have been attacked,
the Coast Guard hooks a sizable man-eater offshore.
The crew labors feverishly;
and as the sun sets, they reel in the predator.
Much to everyone’s amazement,
it’s a Bengal tiger in scuba gear.
Author Unknown:
Did you hear about the aquarium owner?
His shark was worse than his pike.
Dean Burkey:
Never French kiss a shark.
Author Unknown:
Two great white sharks swimming in the ocean
spied survivors of a sunken ship.
“Follow me, son,” the father shark said to the son shark;
and they swam to the mass of people.
“First we swim around them a few times
with just the tip of our fins showing.”
And they did.
“Well done, son!
Now we swim around them a few times
with all of our fins showing.”
And they did.
“Now we eat everybody.”
And they did.
When they were both gorged, the son asked,
“Dad, why didn’t we just eat them all at first?
Why did we swim around and around them?”
His wise father replied,
“Because they taste better without the crap inside!”
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