Return To Lake Miller Lite*

Yah, so I didn't get to finish covering the rest of my Woodsy Adventure last night because I was at The BAG, enjoying the "Monday Night All You Can Drink For $5.00 Spectacular." (for the Chosen Few)

Let's see... Okay, so, that Saturday morning, while all of the Prepared To Go Camping People were cooking breakfast (they had a grill and everything) I decided to start my day off right- with a bourbon and Coke. It was worth it just to watch everyone turn green when they realized what I was imbibing so early in the day. It's times like that I almost feel like a performance artist. Or an old-school circus geek. (Or a "Stunt Performer"-fuck that "I'll live in a water bubble for days" bullshit-let's see David Blaine drink bourbon for breakfast. Then I'll be impressed. That douchebag.)

The Sun was up, my previous night's buzz was reactivated, and we all decided we were too damn lazy to embark on a six-hour canoe trip down The Delaware. That kind of thing is much more fun later in the season, when the water is warmer. What to do? WHAT TO DO???

What I did was grab my guitar and an extra large Adult Beverage, and walk down to the river. Best idea I've had all year (well, the second best...). I sat on a big ol' slab of concrete near the bank (I guess it was the remnants of an old dock, or pier, or falafel stand, or something), dangling my bare feet in the water and playing my guitar. Brilliant.

I even wrote a song, appropriately titled "Sitting On A Large Concrete Slab, Dangling My Feet In The Delaware, And Playing My Guitar." Unfortunately, by that time I was hammered from the bourbon, and probably a bit loopy from excessive exposure to The Sun (I'm pretty much nocturnal), and I can't quite remember how the song went.

Soon after writing my Magnum Opus, El Jefe joined me on my Happy Rock with a pleasant surprise. It turned out that he had forgotten about a six-pack of Sparks Plus that was in the back of his truck. The previous night's Gestapo raid hadn't seen it. Yay! Jefe brought me a Sparks Plus, and I rewarded his generosity with a rousing rendition of The Reverend Horton Heat's "Liquor, Beer and Wine." There was much rejoicing.

After a bit more Acoustic Tomfoolery, I headed back to the campsite to eat some food (I eat food!) and crank some Richard Cheese and Lounge Against The Machine CD's I had brought for the troops. I was afraid that they wouldn't dig it, but it was a big hit. You've gotta love sitting in the woods, drinking, eating, and listening to "The Cheese."

A short nap later (I needed it, I was Drunk as Hell) it was time for some Leafy Greens. One of my favourite moments of the whole trip was sitting back, high as a kite as the Sun went down (like your Mom for a Sawbuck), listening to Traffic (the band, not a procession of automobiles, Dingleberry), and bugging out watching the fire. Rob had purchased "Magic Crystals" at the front office- it was some kind of powdered chemical that turns the fire green and blue and whatnot. It was lovely. Very peaceful.

That was only the beginning of the Study in Inebriation that was the rest of my Saturday night in the woods, but I'm sleepy. Between getting minimal sleep last night, and spending this evening rearranging Hell, I'm beat. I'll finish this up tomorrow, or the next day, or something like that. As if anyone cares.

I have to go take care of a task I've been putting off for a few months...


* By the way, the Security Guy asked us Saturday morning if "Lake Miller Lite" had dried up yet (referring to the mud created my our forced dumping of beer the previous night-how clever), hence the title of these last two blogs. I should've stabbed that prick, after all.