my spidey sense is tingling!

day 12 damage report: i’d like to take this opportunity to speak openly and honestly with you about the horrible lump on megan’s ass. there’s been a lot of speculation, some he-said-she-said and even some disturbing rumors floating around the mill and i think i had better clear them up before she wakes up and has the opportunity to stop me.  first and foremost, in the words of my favorite austrian, body-building governer and star of the hit movie, Junior, “IT’S NOT A TUMOR!”.  actually, i’m fairly certain at this point that it’s a spider bite. and to my extreme disappointment, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of spider bite that gives you the ability to cling to walls, the proportionate strength of a spider or heightened spider-senses. at least yet… i’ve been routinely sneaking up and dousing her with buckets of freezing cold rain water to see if the old spidey-sense has kicked in. it hasn’t. as of yet the only thing the bite has resulted in is a sore bum.

but at the risk of sounding presumptuous, i’m going to guess you didn’t subscribe to this blahg to hear about swollen ass cheeks. (butt we’d both be kidding ourselves to ASSume this is the last you’ll hear of the matter.) beautiful castles, breath taking cliff sides, pint after pint of creamy guinness, minstrel shows and humorous anecdotes; those are more the sort of thing people tune in for. if i may set the stage for a moment, i’d like to introduce two other important characters who have each played a role in our tale thus far. (by clicking on the provided hyperlinks, you will see an artist’s rendition of both gentlemen.) character the first is our hella gracious and most hospitable, inked-up host, the FunkMaster sean fabun. thank you for the crash space and i imagine the smell should dissipate a week or so proceeding our departure. character the second would be king thomas, the benevolent dictator of brussels who took a tyrannical time-out and came to stay with us for a few days. together we toured o’brien’s tower and the spectacular cliffs of moher, rising an impressive 120 meters above the icy atlantic. (yes, the atlantic. i get in a plane that takes me half way around the fucking world and im still looking at the G.D. atlantic. figure that one out, smart guy.) friends, it’s a grand feeling to be wowed and humbled by nature and as far as i can tell ye,  it never gets old.

we laughed, we cried, we taunted, we jeered, we toasted, we danced, we site-saw, we hiked, we played, we competed, we rumbled, we made friends, we made enemies, we flirted, we relished, we cooked, we feasted and we were soaked to the bone in the irish rain.  we’ve apparently actually been treated to unprecedentedly beautiful weather since we’ve been here which i do believe, but it does rain if even for an hour nearly every day. and the grey skies coupled with the steadily healthy downpour make for some of the greenest grass these color-blind eyes have ever seen. the brilliant greenness of the grass is eclipsed only by the smooth and rich creaminess of the national beverage. no joke. the guiness is practically a different beer here in ireland than it is in the states. and what makes it even nicer to down them is that there’s live music at practically every pub. whether it be just some old bloke strumming on his rickety banjo or an irish-spanish celtic fusion quartet tearing it up side-stage, you find your life is suddenly given a reasonably catchy and enjoyable soundtrack.

things that have amused me since i’ve been here:  old shit– ie; castles, ruins, forts, abbeys and the enigmatic, endless miles of stone walls the irish seem to be so fond of building. the hilariously vague road signs. thatched roofed cottages with satellite dishes on top. personalized and metered draughts at each table at a bar (amazing!). japanese tourists playing on the side of cliffs with a 100 meter drop. and for the adventurous potato chip eater, try a “prawn cocktail” pringle!

at this point, i invite you to take a moment to enjoy this post’s illustrated companion:

master the perfect pour from the comfort of your very own table.

master the perfect pour from the comfort of your very own table.

please refrain from pooping off edge of cliff.

please refrain from pooping off edge of cliff.

ally-oop!

ally-oop!

cute traveler

cute traveler.

three goons on a hill.

three goons on a hill.

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7 Responses to “my spidey sense is tingling!”

  1. Keep it coming guys. And, keep those glowing smiles.

  2. Chelsea T Says:

    Great to hear your both alive. Wish I could come play with you! By the time you guys are back I’ll be in Colorado Springs. Come visit!

  3. Happy Easter. Love Dad

  4. Mumm-Ra: The Ever-Living Says:

    your links to both Thomas and Fabun are broken

    i consider this post an epic fail

    miss your stupid monkey faces

  5. Mumm-Ra: The Ever-Living Says:

    Also I watched an AWESOME tng the other day:

    Picard’s old archeology professor is murdered and it sets off a chain of events that leads to the enterprise chasing the Klingons, Cardassians and Romulans across the galaxy in search of an ancient message embedded in our genetic codes

    THAT was epic

  6. Julie Jo Says:

    its good to hear about the happenings of megan’s ass. i will also need regular bowel updates.

  7. SJ Mazer Says:

    There are times when some items are not considered newsworthy but then again, a kiss on the ass always worked for my babies. Ouch; hope by now it’s healed ’cause riding a camel is tough on the bum.
    We’re back from Mexico, sad to say, to the real world. Thanks for the call and update. Lots of love, peace out. Mom

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