Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

My Photo
Location: Texas, United States

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Cor Blimey! A Brit Appeareth!

One Day, I'll Explain The Concept Of "Runting".

Well, I'll be hornswoggled!

Actually, I have no idea what sort of activity is called for in a case of hornswoggling. I can only hope that it involves someone attractive, nubile and extremely female swoggling my horn, and not anything involving actual horns, wogs, ling, or any combination thereof.

I digress...

I just got an email from an old friend that I haven't heard from in quite some time. The Limey Bastard was one of my closest friends in college. He left the Dallas/Ft. Worth area to return to his home state of New Mexico quite some time ago. Actually, his home state is Old Blighty, Jollye Olde Englande, the Cambridge area, if memory serves, but he's been living in Eastern New Mexico for years.

In college, we were co-hosts for some of the most depraved parties Arlington, TX has ever seen. We also served on Student Congress for many semesters, along with the Connecticut Yankee, and brought a much-needed dose of levity and surrealism to that pompous pack of weasels. We drove the administration apeshit by mounting protests over mostly inconsequential matters, and dished out a heaping helping of merry pranksterism where it was sorely needed.

The last time I laid eyes on the Limey Bastard was in either 2000 or 2001, when I was returning to D/FW from a business trip to Silver City, NM. He was holed up in a rambling old house in Clovis, and hosted a party to welcome me. It was quite a bash, and amped up once I donated the contents of my mobile bar. In retrospect, that might have been a mistake. I have fuzzy memories of some highly irate parent arriving in the wee hours of the moring to carry her remarkably inebriated (and seriously underage) daughter out to the car. I also seem to recall there was another drunk young lady quite eager to show a traveling stranger her attributes, but my Skank-o-meter alarm was going off and being completely bereft of penile ponchos, chose to remain celibate that evening.

The drive home to Dallas the next morning was one of the worst road trips, ever. By the time I hit the Texas border, I had mostly quit randomly wobbling from lane to lane. When I hit Muleshoe, I had to pull over and pour a gallon of water on my head & neck to keep from dry-heaving. Adding insult to injury was the rising sun in my face blinding my already bloodshot eyes until I hit Lubbock.

Most of our communication in recent years has been an email every year or so, and I'd search the web for "Limey Bastard" (OK, his real name) in New Mexico, and send an Xmas card in hopes it would hit the right household. He married into a pre-fab family, and as the bachelors out there know, once your friends get hitched, they get sucked into another world, one where there's not always the bandwidth available to maintain your previous social life.

Anyway, the Limey Bastard emailed to let me know he's alive and well, which pleases me greatly. I'll have to find out the next time Connecticut Yankee heads to Texas to see his parents, and see if we can't arrange a little get-together up in Dallas. We can even afford bail money these days!