Campground Characters 2010

Good ole Boy, Pantie Girl, nude naked picnic table sun bathing, 80 yr. old with motor home having 200,000 miles, Wayne is trouble dog, Vietnam chopper pilot, 70+ sunbather, GOLF CART SERENADE,

"GOOD OLE BOY!"

Now you just never know the mind of a camper. While walking my trusty Dog Bailey, we ventured to the boat dock. This area lends itself to not only fishing but the "soap box" of the campground. While Bailey and I were lounging on the dock, we struck up a conversation with two local fishermen. A husband and wife team, that is.

Somehow the conversation evolved around new medical procedures. This must have been prompted by my mention of a new bionic knee replacement I am in hopes of. My explanation of the need for a new knee set off the seismic response and lecture of the current boat dock preacher. Little did I know?????

The Good Ole Boy just left the set of the "Beverly's" or Andy Griffith. I am sure the used furniture of the household is on the porch or possibly under the canopy of the RV in the Canal Camp ground. But one should not stereo-type. At best the "Boy" can speak English under the vernacular of western Kentucky.

It seems that he has the opinion, based somewhat on his daughter's experience in the nursing field, that some odd experiments are occurring in the Space Lab. That would be SPACE LAB, not Lab on the porch. It seems she has had some limited experience in grating parts to people in need of parts.

His hypothesis is that some experimental cloning is occurring in the space lab. Why would the nations involved go to all the trouble and expense of flying various craft to the stations, building these "wings" just to watch the sun and moon. I mentioned maybe later exploration of other planets, but this fell on deaf and hairy ears. Not to mention the braided nose hair, cut off jeans and shredded shirt with plaid patterns, but I digress.

It seems that "Boy" has the certain opinion that the nations of the new World Order are cloning humans in their mold, zero gravity, in the space lab. That must be It! He extrapolated, (in broad daylight), that they were creating the perfect human to plant among us and finish the World Order formation. Of course I was struck with this expansive and well thought out idea of world domination. After all, his nurse daughter found that grafting skin to burn victims was a common practice. Soooooo, why not create new human beings. Makes since.

Now, all my readers are accustomed to my quiet, shy demeanor and lack of opinions. However, in this case I felt a compunction to mention my kidneys. That's right, particularly my right kidney. It was my response that if I needed a right vs. left kidney, and "they" could grow me one, just put that sucker in my body. I would take my chances with world domination of the new order. Well, this did not bring much response from the "Boy" except to mention that he would never accept such a growth in him.

I just say, "give me his good kidney"!

Dog Pound

Herding horses, goats, pigs and cats cannot be as difficult as herding two vivacious DOGS! Now, granted, they had not had a couple glasses of wine, but bodily requirements seem to be utmost in demand. Now, the puppy, Bella, seems to have a gastrointestinal problem with auto travel. How does a 7 lb. dog puck up 5 lbs of food? I think she does this just to spite Bailey. You know, the alpha female.

Well, needless to say, she grossed up my back seat with puck. Good thing she does not like red wine. Now, no one has lived till they have to pick up poop from two dogs with 6 ft. leashes at one moment. Opening the poop bag, entwined in dogs, smelling each others ass, while I attempt to be calm picking up two piles of poop in full view of all camp ground visitors. I am beginning to know what an octopus feels like feeding all eight arms. Good thing I did not have to wipe asses.

Now, walking two dogs should not be a problem, right. I dare you to try this while sober. For some unknown reason, both dogs want to walk in front of me, crossing leashes and smelling butts. It is even more fun when another dog in the camp ground shows its ass and mingles with my pack. A Chinese fire drill all over again. By the time this walk was over, I wanted to shit all over all dogs. Cats are starting to look Good. I now understand why the Louis and Clark Expedition traded anything to the Indians for dog meat.

Well, they are now laying at my feet like little angles. They must know I am spilling the truth about their behavior. It is really hard to kill them when they are being good. Suckers are born every day. I think I will have to tie them to my leash and walk them all over the campground, smelling all scents on earth and make them pick up my poop. HEY YES, that would be a unique event.

Ok, no more talk of poop. I will be calm in the AM and walk dogs to their heart and butts content. Eureka may sink under the poop, but let it never be said I did not walk my dogs. I just want to know who designed the dog poop bags that are advertised as recyclable!

Happy Trails,

Bailey and Bella