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Spelunking
12 years ago
Ah, spelunking, one of my favorite words. It ranks right up there with "mosey" and "boobs" as words that are incredibly fun to say, even ignoring what they mean.
But this journal isn't just about the word spelunking, it's about the act, because yesterday, I went on a lovely spelunk.
It all started when I was going for my four o'clock constitutional. I was going to bring my bolt cutter, but for reasons that I can no longer recall, I've framed it and kept it in my hunting lodge. It's presently residing between a Tasmanian tiger head and a rather large, dark, sausage-like artifact that I cannot identify.
So, instead, I brought a pair of kitchen shears. Can't be too careful in this day and age, can we?
As I moseyed along my street, I realized that one of the storm drains in particular was opened just enough for a slender guy like me to enter. So, when I saw something shiny down there, I dived on in.
Alas, whatever artifact caught my eye vanished into the darkness. But, I'm a proud descendant of the Aryan warriors who brought Asia to her knees, and for some reason, this revelation spurred me to continue into the sewer. I was appalled by the presence of rats, but it was a sewer, so I wasn't disappointed overmuch.
After scurrying around for some time, I found an exit to the outside world. There was a great deal of noise from the surface, but I largely ignored it as I climbed up the ladder and lifted the manhole cover to get out. I'd had enough time down there and was just about to take my leave when I realized what was going on.
It was a parade, of some sort, with legions of soldiers carrying Kalashnikovs and RPGs. There was also a motorcade, but the most immediate of my worries was the herd of horses coming my way.
Still, I'm a patriot, and as a good patriot, I saluted them and held absolutely still, until one of the equine bastards stamped on my head and kept walking.
This angered me greatly.
I'm not quite sure what happened next, but there was a great deal of chaos as I slipped back into the whole whence I came. My shears were bloodied and the jar of formaldehyde I'd brought along had some sort of huge black something in it. These affects I kept with me as I dashed back through the sewers, dying of laughter the whole way.
The story of my spelunk concludes as I decided that whatever the black sausage I was carrying with me would make a much better meal than the pork and beef bratwurst I had intended to eat that night, my Krishna and Allah forgive me.
The formaldehyde was a bit weird, I'll admit it, but it beat the Hell out of ketchup as far as I'm concerned.
But this journal isn't just about the word spelunking, it's about the act, because yesterday, I went on a lovely spelunk.
It all started when I was going for my four o'clock constitutional. I was going to bring my bolt cutter, but for reasons that I can no longer recall, I've framed it and kept it in my hunting lodge. It's presently residing between a Tasmanian tiger head and a rather large, dark, sausage-like artifact that I cannot identify.
So, instead, I brought a pair of kitchen shears. Can't be too careful in this day and age, can we?
As I moseyed along my street, I realized that one of the storm drains in particular was opened just enough for a slender guy like me to enter. So, when I saw something shiny down there, I dived on in.
Alas, whatever artifact caught my eye vanished into the darkness. But, I'm a proud descendant of the Aryan warriors who brought Asia to her knees, and for some reason, this revelation spurred me to continue into the sewer. I was appalled by the presence of rats, but it was a sewer, so I wasn't disappointed overmuch.
After scurrying around for some time, I found an exit to the outside world. There was a great deal of noise from the surface, but I largely ignored it as I climbed up the ladder and lifted the manhole cover to get out. I'd had enough time down there and was just about to take my leave when I realized what was going on.
It was a parade, of some sort, with legions of soldiers carrying Kalashnikovs and RPGs. There was also a motorcade, but the most immediate of my worries was the herd of horses coming my way.
Still, I'm a patriot, and as a good patriot, I saluted them and held absolutely still, until one of the equine bastards stamped on my head and kept walking.
This angered me greatly.
I'm not quite sure what happened next, but there was a great deal of chaos as I slipped back into the whole whence I came. My shears were bloodied and the jar of formaldehyde I'd brought along had some sort of huge black something in it. These affects I kept with me as I dashed back through the sewers, dying of laughter the whole way.
The story of my spelunk concludes as I decided that whatever the black sausage I was carrying with me would make a much better meal than the pork and beef bratwurst I had intended to eat that night, my Krishna and Allah forgive me.
The formaldehyde was a bit weird, I'll admit it, but it beat the Hell out of ketchup as far as I'm concerned.
