… good morning, gentle readers… I see that the SNAFU that is Tammi’s World is running as scheduled… marvelous, isn’t it…
… anyway, I thought I would share my latest adventure with you people this fine morn.. see, I just executed an almost-perfect “snake run”.. of course, some of you will not know what I’m talking about… that’s okay… let me explain…
… remember that brainiac kid with the coke-bottle glasses back in high school?... the one who was so damn smart he couldn’t remember to secure the Velcro “laces” on his Keds?.. the one who, when seen running late for his Algebra class, was bent at the waist.. head forward… legs bent in a quick shuffle.. and his head and torso moving quickly from side to side as he maneuvered his hig-speed lumbering?... almost snake-like in his motions?… teeth set in a kind of grinning painfulness as he ran like a retard with a gimpy leg towards the education he so greatly desired?
… well, I did a “snake run” this morning… and as I neared my destination (the throne), I remembered back to the only other time I had performed that vaunted maneuver…
… April of 1998, I believe… a friend of mine from the Corps had invited me to the Kings Mountain National Park for some rock climbing… I jumped at the chance and was on the next plane out of Scotland…. We had a wonderful time… breakfast every morning at some kind of Waffle Hut… then on to the rocks… a great outcrop rose nearly three hundred feet just a 100 yards from the road and we wore that baby out… two-pitch and three-pitch climbs all day long for nearly a week.. beautiful springtime weather.. good company… and, as I said, huge breakfasts complete with mountains of fried bacon and gravy every morning at that Waffle Hut…
… on the morning before our third day of climbing, I casually mentioned to my buddy that I had not had a movement since arriving in the USA… we pondered this over coffee and bacon for a while and came to the conclusion that perhaps my body was just trying to get over the jetlag… no biggie, we thought… nature will always take her course…
… later that day, we had top-roped a small climb and were doing some playing around… I was on belay, and my buddy fell… he was fine… but the sudden jerk to my harness must have squeezed the wrong place… I could instantly feel the rumblings of the soon-to-arrive product of gorging myself on three days of Waffle Hut bacon… it was bad… it was immediate… the most intense need to shit I had ever experienced…
… I yelled up to my partner, and let him down quick… and it was at this point - trying to undo my climbing harness as I scurried down the hillside towards the awaiting roadside port-a-potty, that I realized I was doing the “snake run”.. I fumbled… I stumbled… my fingers worked the knot of my harness as I felt the first turd begin to crown… I knew I was doomed… the john was just too far away….
… in the nick of time, the knot gave way… still in mid snake-run, I ripped down my BDU bottoms and squatted on the side of the trail… the bliss was so immediate that rivulets of perspiration formed on my forehead and gently trickled down the side of my temple as the pile grew… it was heavenly.. almost orgasmic…
… I was squatting there within sight of the port-a-john totally lost in the moment… having abandoned time and reality and given myself up completely to the bodily function.. when suddenly my tranquility was broken by the slamming of a car door… and then I heard voices.. and they grew louder and louder… and in a few seconds, an elderly man and woman marched past the john and immediately locked eyes with me not twenty yards up the trail… I’m not sure who was more shocked… them or me….
… but what a day, people… after the old man and woman stopped laughing, he fetched a roll of Forestry Service toilet paper for me out of the port-a-pot… nature, people… she bonds us together in ways we cannot fathom.. hikers, campers, climbers, hunters.. we are connected by ties that cannot be broken by a mere public act of defecation… outdoorsmen and women are built from sterner stuff…
… by the way, you guys have the wonderful people at Taco Bell to thank for this morning’s mental ramblings… I can’t prove it, but I highly suspect a dodgy taco from yesterday created the recurrence of the “snake run”… but if I manage to find evidence otherwise, I will be sure to let y’all know…
Eric the Blade
Posted by at January 5, 2006 09:17 AMThat's some funny shit there... not literally. Least you didn't have to cut that harness off.
Heheheh... reminds me of a story.
Posted by: T1G at January 5, 2006 10:06 AMOh My Lord. I'm laughing but still wanting to scream, "Wait! Am I reading this on Tammi's site?!!!" OH and this is day 6 and it still kind of hurts to laugh like this... Ouch.
Posted by: Bou at January 5, 2006 10:36 AMBWAHAHAHAHA. That's just hilarious, being a re-enactor I can so sympathize with your plight and situation. Now I have to explain to the boss lady why I'm laughing so hard.
Posted by: Contagion at January 5, 2006 12:02 PMmy version of the snake run, out fishing in the wilds of Alaska, here comes the urge but wait, FISH ON!!, big king salmon, oh oh, squeeze a little harder, oh oh, Hey Doug, take this fishing pole. Run to the boat to get the paper, not gonna make it. So here I am squatting about 10 yards from the boat, Doug is fighting my fish and here comes the group of 10 people floating down the 'river wild'. The only thing I could think of was thank god I'll never see them again!!
Posted by: dave at January 5, 2006 01:30 PMLOL! Oh my... Tammi's going to have some serious cleaning up to do! ::wipes eyes::
Posted by: Richmond at January 5, 2006 02:35 PMDamn, that did sound like Eric, didn't it? The story...the ellipses...the italics...had it all.
Many of us have experienced the Snake Run...but few have had the Snake Run - Happy Ending combo as described by the Straight White One.
Posted by: Elisson at January 5, 2006 07:53 PMYowza! I feel your pain. I just made myself a note to tell a story with the same general theme, and I damned sure will link back to this one. Snake Run ... Oh yeah.
Posted by: Jim - PRS at January 5, 2006 08:19 PM