Exploiting the Free Range Rooster

I woke to the sounds of chickens doing that cock-a-doodal-do noise thing at 4:30 am. I don't sleep much, but that was kind of pushing it a little. If those feathery bastards do this again tomorrow morning, I'm taking my fishing spear and going after a little free range rooster.

I hear they taste just like chicken....

The sun rose around 6:15 and with it, the weasels too awoke. Mila and I surfed the internet until 8 am while Milo ate breakfast for an hour and thirty minutes. That shooting at V Tech really sucks and in my opinion that ass munch who did the shooting got off light. It's senseless shit like this that make me glad we don't live in metropolitan US anymore.

Amy woke up in time for breakfast and then we both went in to play volleyball. Somehow the games weren't all the great as everyone was thinking about those kids that got shot back in Virginia. It's hard to justify playing ball on a beautiful beach in a foreign country when things like that are going on back home.

Ok, I'm done being a downer.

In the afternoon, I talked with Brian off of Tonga Time about helping him sail his boat back to Florida. His wife Charlene isn't much of an ocean going sailor and so he is trying to scare up someone to help him get Tonga Time home. I told him I'd go with him, provided he helps me get Amy and the weasels (and Dream Catcher) safely tucked away in one of the holes behind the Chat and Chill. He's also gotta fly me back to G'town, but all things considered thats probably a hell of a lot cheaper than having to pay crew to help him.

I think we'll know in a couple of days if he is going to need my help or not. It will kind of be nice if he does as it will give me a chance to do a day or two of shopping in Florida before flying back here. There are several things we need from the states and this would be a great opportunity to get them.

In the afternoon, we headed up to St. Francis for poker night. The evil poker dictator and our formal regatta chairman tried to muscle in and take over my show, but George (St. Francis owner) said it was my show to run. The evil do-er is leaving in 5 days, so I tolerated his presence and we all just got along.

I had four morons at my table who despite repeated instruction could not manage to play within accordance of our very generous and extremely lenient rules and I just got frustrated and pretty much threw away my chips. Amy, however, did much better and she ended up finishing 3 out of 27 players and recouped our 10 dollar combined entrance fee. We played for free and as we all know, free is nice.

On the way back from poker, we stopped by Brian and Charlene's boat for pumpkin pie (for Amy) and a beer (for me). Brian also gave me a half dozen books that he has read, so our book emergency has been averted.

We returned home at the un-godly hour of 11 pm. The ferrets had already taken up their nocturnal residence in my pillow case, so the four of us promptly turned in for the evening. For the record, Milo is still a pillow hog and Mila snores in her sleep.

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