Everyone took off from Helen early this morning with blown-eyed alacrity, wanting to get home in time to defend their honor, if at all possible, or do damage control.
Having just survived my maiden blogmeet experience, I can report that it was mostly painless, except for the guitar hand.
Besides the dubious humor of seeing the Jolly Roger in bed with multiple women and a sheep, I think I can safely say he came out of the experience as mystified as ever about bloggers.
In the course of 43 hours I have experienced the Glory that is half-rubber, I've been "Serviced" by Eric while I was under duress and virtually blind at 1:00 a.m.; seen unspeakable acts committed by flying monkeys and inflatable sheep, been exposed to Poetry d'Elisson expounding on tainted warheads, and have met the peerless Catfish and lived to bring you, dear reader, this report.
Erica never followed through on her threats to thrash me, but I think, seeing my age and feebleness, she went easy on me. Zonker is to blame for too many heinous moments and much laughter. Jimbo and the Bodyguard are the best peeps you could ever hope to meet. Denny was irascible and funny and the best guitar player and possessing a fine voice, Holder and Co. brought Science!, Key and Vman were always busy somewhere else, Leslie sang wonderfully, John Cox probably doesn't want anyone to know he was there, but he has tons of evidence that speaks otherwise, Sam committed only minor crimes against humanity while Barbie is the proud owner of a ton of photographic evidence, Recondo and Georgia along with GuyK and his Sweet thing rounded out the usual suspects. There were a couple of others who, in my weak-assed state I can see in my mind and hear their singularly funny laugh, but cannot conjure up names. Just Damn! I almost forgot Dax!
Links may or may not be forthcoming, as the Slack has imposed itself on me most aggressively upon entering the city limits, so screw the linkage tonight. I'm whupped. Pepper Dog has forgiven us and is happily ensconced as Pack Leader, content to watch over us as we recover.
Oh yeah. The Chatham Artillery Punch certainly packs one.