Escape From North Dakota: Part The First
Sarah took me to her home in North Dakota. My body rejected the transplant immediately with an overwhelming display of histamine force: my nose ran continuously for 36 hours. My eyes are still a bit itchy.
However, I did manage to have a lot of fun. For instance, I contracted the avian bird SARS flu:
I got to hold and stroke another man’s cock:
What a handsome bird. This cock ate nuts out of my hand.
Carl is a really nice guy. He served us elk ribs. I had elk rib sammiches.
There were two black cocks. Here you can see one of the pair. I don’t know if it was “Arnie” or “Danny” — named after the movie “Twins.”
Sarah and I went out to photograph the wheat stubble:
By the afternoon I felt so cruddy that I just stayed in the truck.
Also there was a Model A:
I’m so glad to be back.
I like the picture of Carl with the windmill in back. Quintessential country my friend.
You look very Rico Suave stroking another man’s cock. Who knew!?
Sorry about the allergies. Next time bring some Alavert. It’s awesome and dissolves on your tongue. I don’t think it’ll help the SARS though.
I’m glad you survived! :) I had a ton of fun with you!
I’d have asked Pa for the shot gun so I could kill myself instead of deal with the insanity that is hickville USA. Ugh. I live in the city for a reason.
I want chickens in my yard. I love chickens. My pet chickens when I was little were all called Tommy and were banty roosters. My chickens loved me. I loved them. They pooped on me every once in a while, but I never pooped on them. In November all the Tommys were killed, dressed, and served up for Thanksgiving dinner. I never cried. That was just the way of the rural world. Eat your friends.
Lisa: the SARS are killing me.
Sarah: we made our own fun, just like when I was a littlin’.
Paul: the thought did cross my mind. I tried to stay busy.
Mom: you could look into getting a chicken coop in your garden. They would scratch up your yard, though. Also, they would be delicious.
Just wait until Paul reads Part Two. Then he will be the jealous.
That picture of Carl and the Cock is the Best Photograph Ever Taken™. Seriously.
Donald makes a mean friend chicken.
Would the chickens keep away the squirrels, raccoons, and egrets? How about the deer?
Chicken poop pellets would fertilize my gardens. Maybe the birds, themselves, would eat the nasty little bugs that sometimes prey on my flowers.
Heck, I’m gonna check the city ordinances about keeping chickens on my property. Probably couldn’t have roosters, though, unless their crowing ability was disabled.