Comments on: White Water Summer

By: Judith Moore

Judith Moore — Sun, 26 Jun 2005 20:27:10 +0000

I am a senior editor. We run a section caled “Blog World” in our paper. Would you be interested in our publishing part of your blog? Take a look at what we do. I look foward to hearing from you. Judith

By: cheryl ring

cheryl ring — Wed, 08 Sep 2004 23:29:13 +0000

God, you are a good writer! That was so entertaining. It really is best that I don’t hear the details of your group’s night out until way after the fact. I like being in the dark, so when I ask, “How was your night?”, you should just say, “It was very pleasant, Mother, but low key and quiet. We made an early evening of it.” That’s all I need to know.

By: JC

JC — Tue, 07 Sep 2004 20:47:38 +0000

Forgot the part when the passengers on the floor of the minivan were airborne while I was slamming on the brakes to avoid the inner tubes that were spilling across the highway…and the part at the beginning of the float when Moira was attacked for no reason by squirt guns from random rafters passing by. And how Krusty seemed to prefer to swim in “river position” rather than float on his tube, as evidenced by many shrieks when we hit the shallow parts.

This was a fun weekend. Thanks for writing it up MR, nicely done. Will have to do it next year – hopefully the annual camping trip can be reinstated.

By: JB

JB — Mon, 06 Sep 2004 02:28:42 +0000

Hey peewee, you are mistaken about one thing. The girls weren’t the only ones that were tying onto the kayak, I was towing your ass around too, and unforturnately, krusty also. It was ok most of the time except when krusty was tied on, towing him was like towing a cement slab. I’ve got to tell you, I was soar about a week after. I haven’t done that much exercise since the last wiffleball tournament at Dennis’s house. Well, it was a great weekend, even the brush with death. Krusty, you truly are a freak buddy, noone craps three times before 10am, that can’t be healthy, you’ve probably lost a few organs along the way. Oooh, brutal. Good stuff peewee, as usual.

By: Gabe

Gabe — Sat, 04 Sep 2004 04:06:53 +0000

Well another good story by MR. You’re quite an entertaining fellow to be sure. I sometimes get strange looks when I just erupt into laughter in my cube, as the lure of Zillionaire is too strong to resist. And of course reading a story that encompasses every fun activity available to people in Ellensburg just makes my day.

I still think I’m going to wake up and come to the realization that I must have been dreaming, Krusty couldn’t really be a vegetarian. I don’t believe it. I’m still amazed at how strange it sounded coming out of his mouth. Anyway, keep up the good work.

Hey if anyone wants to get an idea of what hell might be like, it was 111 degrees here the other day. That’s got to be pretty close.

By: Jason

Jason — Fri, 03 Sep 2004 20:17:25 +0000

Krusty, the “direct and tactless way” you approach life is a refreshing departure from the depths of dishonesty and impurity that exist in this world. If only there were more Krustys…

What am I saying? One is just fine. And in the future, I will not be surprised by anything you may say. The look of awe on my face is really just admiration.

By: Krusty

Krusty — Fri, 03 Sep 2004 18:23:49 +0000

The sad fact is Jason that this conversation would spring forth from me just as easily in a room full of absolute strangers. I hope that the direct and tactless way I view the world isn’t to much for you. The crew I suppose has built up a thick skin and is not supprised by anything that fly forth from my mouth.

By: Amy

Amy — Fri, 03 Sep 2004 15:50:29 +0000

Although I love a good Ellensburg “glory days” drunken escapade story, I was saddened to hear that Krusty was consuming any type of vegan cuisine. Let’s not forgot where the moniker of Krusty stemmed from…and that his real last name is not McPherson, it is in fact “Beef-eater.”

And for all of you men who have managed to misplace your original wedding bands, your failure to retain the one material symbol of your marriage is not uncommon. This misfortune has befallen many a husband before you, sadly. Just be sure, on the next go around, that you let your wife pick out a ring that is a size too small and welds it onto your finger.

By: Jason

Jason — Thu, 02 Sep 2004 22:20:11 +0000

Krusty brings up an important point. MR demonstrated that he has a tolerance best associated to that a small woodland creature, despite claims that he was consuming all of Jeannette’s drinks as well. In succumbing to the effects of the alcohol, he clearly failed in his role as the Davey Crockett of our Alamo. I believe MR should begin instituting a strict training regimine so that next year he is able to confront this fearsome nemesis, alcohol.

Also, if the day ever comes when I can also admit that conversations about bowel movements have become “old hat,” I ask to be humanely put down. And let’s please recall that the conversation was not just about bowel movements, but stemmed from an seemingly eternal three seconds of silence, pierced only by Krusty’s inquisitive voice.

“So Jeannette, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while. How many bowel movements do you have a day? Maleah says she only has a couple a week. I have about three before 10 a.m. every day.”

Astonishment barely covers it. Perhaps absolute wonderment would be describe my reaction… I suppose you know your amongst friends when you partake in a conversation like that.

By: Krusty

Krusty — Thu, 02 Sep 2004 20:31:44 +0000

Ah a wonderfull reconstruction of a fantastically blurry weekend. However I would like to touch on a few topics with yet again the insight and truth that only I seem to be able to bring to the table. First off you are correct in saying that The Shoe is my personal hall of Fame. However I don’t feel like justice was done in the pure description of what the Shoe does to us and all. First off let me say that only in this bar can I have a shot in my hand for free within four one minute of walking in the door. My best apprentice from the glory days Kasey was working which always ensures intense overservice. After multiple drinks and rounds of shots I pulled my gaze up from the pint of beer that I had just pounded. After focusing through the couple inches of smoke that hung in the air between our group of friends I took a moment to take stock in the carnage we had endured. First to my left was my own little wife she was talking twenty thousand miles a minute a sure fire sign that she was seven drinks past the cut off point. Next was Bailes who was having a hard time keeping his eyes open even though the Shoe is as loud as a Metallica concert in an elevator. But the top dog I found when I peered over at MR who was on the druken marry-go-round. As he spun from side to side it took a little extra effort to focus on his face. Once did I was not dissapointed. There was the pale almost translucent skin color only found in MR when he is wated and 80 year old women on their death beds. This prompted me to get him another drink and say “man your wasted.” Which as stated is always my goal. Anyway the shoe got us drunk enough that some may not remeber that we lowered ourselves to the level of going the OAK RAil. Now the Oak Rail is the anti-christ of the bar scene. I’m not proud that I led that choice. Also I would like to add that the life jackets at tent and tube were in almost as poor of quality as the seventy year old rope that I and Bailes tied the innertubes down with. A Krusty knot is like iron but what can you do when the rope breaks. I finish by saying that this was fun but I miss sleeping by the fire in a druken stupor with no sleeping bag or even a coat. We NEED CAMPING! Peace out