Did you feel like a Swampwalker? LOL, more like a Swampswimmer. Trying to repair and re-route a downspout draining about 1000 s.f. of steeply pitched roof during a torrential downpour in the dark, dressed only in my speedo (that disturbing image is for you, Noble100) was a bit of a challenge but if it was easy, everyone could do it. And the speedo was ready for its annual washing after the summer ;~) Now all is well, power back and the speedo dried off, so I am GOOD TO GO! |
...annual washing? Eew...
It was rather wet and rainy here in Albany. My rain gauge read 6.4", and the local NWS office recorded a peak wind gust of 59 MPH. Everything stayed in one piece, the power stayed on, and the sump pump ran. Now if the Mohawk and Hudson rivers will spare Schenectady and Troy (and no dams burst), the entire area will breathe a collective sigh of relief. |
And the speedo was ready for its annual washing after the summer ;~) Now all is well, power back and the speedo dried off, so I am GOOD TO GO! There must be a web site where those words are cherished but I don't think Audiogon is it :^). |
Thats how they role in da swamp, Iiii eeeEeeeeeEEE! LOL |
Hi Albert- I'm just egging on my good but delusional friend Noble100, who has been spreading vicious lies, to wit: Everyone knows Swampwalker down here in the bayou. He's famous round these parts for taking his boat to the favorite local dive bar here called the "Pink Alligator" which is built on stilts with a pier since it's only accessible by boat. He always orders the same thing: a bucket of crawfish and a bottle of Wild Turkey. He always comes in wearing the same thing, too: nothing but a speedo and his rollerblades. Once he gets his order, he skates around the bar, with the whiskey bottle in one hand and the bucket in the other, telling all who'll listen how bad the jukebox sounds, periodically yelling "I can't take any more of this,I'm an #@%& Audiophile damnit!!". And the evening always ends the same way after polishing off his bottle of Wild Turkey and bucket of crawfish: he drunkenly skates around the pier looking for his boat (for giggles we always drive his boat back to his house when he's about halfway through his bottle,he just lives about a mile away in a former hunting blind up in a big old tree). After he gives up looking for his boat and emphatically refuses offers of rides home, he petulantly slings his rollerblades over his shoulder and stumbles home through the swamp. The above is repeated atleast 3 or 4 times a month year round but he wears tights under his speedo during colder times like now. In fact, he was in the bar last night in his winter attire. But he drank more than his usual bottle and lost control of his bladder. People were calling him Swamppants and Swampwetter. Poor guy, I hope he's OK.
Okay, Swampwalker, what do I win for 'guessing' the truth behind your screen name and giving the readers a little insight into your life down here in What's That Smell, Louisianna? Funny thing, the patrons of the Pink Alligator didn't name him, the locals gave him that name because that's usually the only tine they see him, trudging through the swamp with his roller blades and wearing only a speedo. They also don't mind the loud music filling the swamp at night because it sounds so good, although they do wonder how he managed to get all that fine gear and electricity to that blind. He is becoming legendary down here since he often has to unavoidably fight alligators and monster sized catfish on his way home. If we patrons had named him, he'd probably be called the Swampstumbler or Swampthing. If our old friend/atty Kelly (Cornfedboy) was still around, I'd turn him loose in court and sue the S.O.B back to the stone age for defamation. EVERYONE knows I only drink Maker's Mark ;~) |
