Saturday, November 25, 2006

rappelling down water falls


we went rappelling one day, down and back up a series of waterfalls. there was some climbing, hiking, sliding over rocks, swimming through pools and barely any sobbing. it was great fun, and hardly any drowning.


beth, in a nutshell.



joren lost his shirt in a waterfall incident. also, his pants. hence, the waist-up photo. he's currently fashioned some trousers out of a coconut shell and palm leaves. i see a rash in his future.



















3 Comments:

Blogger djayt said...

All the water here is frozen. Lots of unintentional rappelling has resulted. It's not as fun, and the clothes are much less revealing.

10:20 PM  
Blogger Jasph said...

I had a little tarsier
His name was Bug-Eyed Joe
The tastiest little tarsier
You'd ever wanna know

We met among the chocolate hills
And fruity drinky springs
He guided me to beer na beer
And all the bloat it brings

He'd bet on every cockfight
And perch upon my hand
His eyes in bulgy rapture
Would undress my every gland

I felt a wee uncomfy
At some filthy things he'd say
For I'm trained to spot harassment
In a special Hallmark way

But whether it's a lawyer
Or just fate that intervenes,
It's hard to fire a tarsier
When you're in the Philippines

Long story short, he countersued
And though the charge was vague
He bribed police to have me
Extradicted to the Hague

They kept me in a holding tank
And fed me only dog
He'd visit, and I'd beg him
Not to ruin my life and blog

His bug-eyed eyes just eyed me
But then they filled with tears
"What happened to our love?" he cried
And drank twelve beer na beers

I grabbed him by the balls (I mean
The eyeballs) where he stood
I dragged him through the bars
And then I B&D'd him good

He said he'd drop the charges
If I'd spank a little harder
I must've gone too far, because
He's now a pagan martyr

Oh, there's a certain whiff
That only tarsiers can exude
Along with knuckle sandwiches
And other finger food

As Sioux did once with buffalo
Thus I the whole beast used
I beat the hide and fried the meat
Or maybe I'm confused

But when I think how warm his fur
How warmer yet his love
The memory of Bug-Eyed Joe
Still haunts me like a glove

Hi, Beth and Joren! These recent photos are very inspiring. I mean, your blog is no Spulge Nine, but then, thankfully, what is?

I might post one of your tarsier photos over there and reprise this verse, since I have no other ideas for content.

1:30 AM  
Blogger Tina said...

Beth! Come back! Jim's taking drugs again!!!

HURRY, for God's sake!

4:20 AM  

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