The best way for me to convey a happy 4th of July to all of you is through Pop culture.

Thus:

Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. “Mankind.” That word should have new meaning for all of us today.

We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it’s fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom… Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution… but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice:

“We will not go quietly into the night!”

We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!

- President Thomas Whitmore

We woke up a tad late on Tuesday morning after hitting the sack around 2am. I had to be in town (20 minutes away) by 8:30 for my flight-seeing tour of the glaciers and bears in Katmai park with Bald Mountain Air service along with lunch and water.

My aunt’s place up on Bald Mountain:

I woke up at 7:45, we packed up quickly and were out of the house by eight. I rambled down the hill taking corners far too swiftly in the small SUV and swung through McDonalds picking up 4 Egg McMuffins: 2 for Breakfast, 2 for Lunch. Mission accomplished.

We rolled into the parking lot and the guys dropped me off as I sent them towards the Homer Spit and told them where to fish.

I met up with my Uncle who let me sit Shotgun er… Co-Pilot I suppose on the flight out in his awesome plane:

The inside was packed with tourists from all over the world. I met Israelis, Danes, and a few unknowns mixed in with the folks from California and Michigan.

One couple was from a flight magazine and wanted to capture some air-to-air photos between the two planes. This, of course, gave me the opportunity to catch some air-to-air photos:

After roughly an hour, we landed on a small shallow pond and waded to the shore. Hiking through the woods for a bit:

We then hiked up to shore and sat down on some driftwood about a hundred yards from a rotting whale carcass sitting on the beach.

The carcass had washed up about 3 weeks prior and was acting as a magnet for all of the bears in the area. As a result, there were four or five bears in close proximity when we sat down. I tried to get artsy in a shot but ended up missing the bears… sort of:

Some did get quite close though:

One of the females pulled a piece of whale off and tried to go eat it in private when a larger male decided to chase her. We weren’t sure if it was for the meat or because she was in heat. At any rate, I caught a quick video:

The bear, carrying the rotting meat, smelled so foul that the entire group recoiled in disgust.

We hung out a bit more watching bears and eating our lunches within fifty feet of the bears at times. It was pretty amazing. Here’s a shot of the group – the bears were about as far away from the front of the logs as I was from the back of the people

After about four or five hours of bear viewing, we hiked up the beach and I got some shots of footprints and the beach:

There were also prints from wolves and other wildlife all along the course volcanic sand beach.

From there, we hopped back into our plane

And got an up close tour of one of the glaciers

After riding back for another hour, we did a fly by of homer then landed:

At this point I met up with the guys and heard about their adventures on the Spit that day.

They fished all day and pretty much got skunked but for some small Irish Lords and about a baker’s half dozen Star Fish

Cousac also caught a Flounder

They did, however, get to check out the world famous Salty Dawg Saloon

Once their day was done, they came and picked me up. We set up dinner with my aunt and uncle, and drove up the spit to meet up with another Uncle. He showed us his boat in dry-dock and shared a boatload (har har) of fishing stories he’d experienced throughout his years.

Me and my Uncle Pat:

This is the uncle who worked on the ice roads and sent me the whale photos in earlier posts. (previously)

We spotted a bunch of Bald Eagles hanging out on the Spit:

One was even in the dumpster and let everyone take a bunch of photos close up:

Pretty majestic, huh?

After that, we went to a little Mexican restaurant and had an awesome scratch margarita followed by some Mexican food. We avoided the pizza also listed on the menu… odd.

Driving back up towards Whittier for fishing the next day, we hit the Russian around 9pm. Opting for more fishing versus more sleep, we got out and tried our luck again. Once again it was gorgeous, but we got skunked on the fish.

Driving back towards Girdwood, half of the group passed out in the back seat and I did my best to stay awake while driving. We hit town around 1am and tried to get some sleep in the truck… this proved difficult.

After a quick discussion, we opted to drive down the road 15 minutes and pitch a tent at a local campground. We got the last spot and swiftly made camp. Four hours of sleep later we awoke and made our way back to Girdwood where we were meeting Dave and family for a day of fishing.

]]> http://morerad.wordpress.com/2008/07/02/day-5-2-adventures-by-the-2-groups-bear-viewing-fishing-on-the-spit/feed/ The Alaskan Aunt Jeanne\'s Place cockpit CoPilot Air to Air Plane Shot Air to Air Plane Shot with wing Air to Air Plane Shot Glacier Background In the Woods Bears Eating Whale Bears Eating Whale Artsy Bear Closeup Bear Bears Eating Whale Closer http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3043/2609070016_e6daae6860.jpg Tourist Smorgasbord Bear Paw Print Parked on the Lake Glacier from Plane Glacier from Plane 2 Glacier from Plane 3 Homer from the Sky Star Fish Irish Lord Cousac with Flounder Salty Dawg Saloon Captain Pat Bald Eagle Bald Eagle in Flight Bald Eagle in Dumpster Cousac Fishing http://morerad.wordpress.com/2008/06/29/day-4-driving-fishing-bears-and-bald-mountain/ http://morerad.wordpress.com/2008/06/29/day-4-driving-fishing-bears-and-bald-mountain/#comments Mon, 30 Jun 2008 02:45:50 +0000 The Alaskan http://morerad.wordpress.com/?p=90

After finishing the hike the night before, we went out and took my Dad out for Father’s day at the Windbreak Café in Wasilla. Sufficiently satisfied from this and much needed showers, we got a healthy 6 hours of sleep and awoke early to begin the next portion of our adventure.

We stopped at the local fishing/hunting warehouse and picked up some essentials including hip waders, an extra fishing pole, some line, lures, and of course, licenses.

Two final pit-stops in Anchorage for firewood from my dad and waders from Mr. Quiet, we hopped on the road to Homer.

We stopped at another rest stop towards Girdwood and snapped a few photos of the scenery

We also stopped at the portage river for a photo op. Even port-a-johns can be beautiful in the right scenery

The colors of the Hummer, boat, children, and water make me momentarily forget my hatred of the large SUV.

Driving up into the pass, we cruise into more snow and memories from my childhood float to the surface – remembering this spot where I would always have to stop and pee, or that spot where I saw a moose once, or another where I always told my dad that I saw a giraffe.

We stop at a small pull off for a bio break and some photos.

I’m struck by the stark difference between Alaska and DC yet again. In DC, this spot would be roped off, and the cliff face would be many feet away with garbage strewn about and bums sleeping close by. Here, it is serene. The only warning of the cliff and the hundred foot drop is your own intuition. Survival of the fittest. Don’t fall off, dummy.

We cruise on down the road and pick up some ice for the cooler along the way. The attendants in the liquor store move at a pace native to rural towns. Slow, methodical, and without a care in the world. This makes my purchase of a single cigar to dissuade mosquitoes a tad frustrating, but tolerable in my vacation state.

We pull into the Russian River campsite and prepare for some fish catching. Cousac downs a beer in the wilderness after strapping on his new waders.

We then make our way down to the river proper and try out a few spots. Ten minutes in, Cousac hooks into a fish and our blood begins to flow.

It turns out to be a Rainbow Trout and Cousac opts to let it go. We fish for a few more hours seeing no other fish and decide to call it a day after snapping some nature and action shots

Right next to the walk way up to the car, I notice two fishermen crossing the river at a fast point, and behind them, a large brown bear rustling in the woods.

“BEAR” I say loudly and point

The fishermen look up confused

“BEAR” we all say, and point.

“Shit” says the one fisherman, turning an about face at the swiftest part of the river and crossing back to us and the safe side, standing a good distance behind the four of us. The other fisherman wades across the river and proceeds upstream a safe distance from the bear. We look at him in disbelief and inquire to the man standing with us.

He responds “I don’t know, that’s just my friend’ as if embarrassed by his friend’s lack of reaction to the large Grizzly.

Meanwhile the bear splashes into the river looking for fish and we take the opportunity to photograph:

The bear is limping and favoring its rear left leg. Mr. Brown sees bullet holes and we all shake our heads sadly and walk up to the car, excited at seeing a grizzly, feeling proud as we warn fellow anglers on their way down.

See a Grizzly up close: CHECK

Near Death Experience 2: CHECK

We pack up the car and drive out of the campsite. Mr. Brown shouts out from the back seat a few miles down the road that he’d like to get out and see the combat fishing that’s taking place in the larger portion of the river. We stop, and Mr. Brown suggests fishing. Cousac and I are hesitant and opt to walk along the bank for fifty yards – we see a fish jump right in front of us, share a grin, and got out or poles to join the battle.

We saw all kinds of fish, and Sancho even managed to snap his pole on a fish that must have been a monster. Mr. Brown hooked into a few but was unable to land them, and Cousac snagged one in the tail before it got away. We got skunked, but it was so scenic and peaceful that we deemed the day a success.

Black bears came to see the fish and pick up the remains of fish-fileting going on upstream as two bald eagles fly above the river. Life is good.

See Black Bears up close: CHECK

We pile back in the car and drove down the road a bit more in search of food. Along the way we come across a sign that tells us to ‘WATCH FOR MOOSE’ and tells us that 198 have been killed this year on the highway. Cousac states ‘you know, the only thing we haven’t seen on this trip is a moose.’

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he shouts ‘stop the car! Moose!’ and we pull over to the side of the road, where not four feet away is a large Moose Cow grazing along the side of the road

See a Moose: CHECK

We stop for dinner shortly thereafter at ‘BUCKETS’ in Soldotna. Overpriced food and mediocre service do nothing to dissuade the draw of an old lady’s cleavage shining brightly across the restaurant. It’s surpsingly hard to eat your meal and enjoy a pint with that right in front of your face. Yeesh.

A few hours more down the road, we catch a true sunset over the mountains across the bay:

The full moon peaks out above the trees lit up by the still orange sun just below the horizon

We reach the summit overlooking Homer Alaska and stop to take in the sights as we sing out ‘Say it Aint So’ by Weezer in wonderful unison and terrible harmony.

Sancho Strikes a pose

Mr. Brown comments ‘take as many pictures as you want, but nothing will capture this moment as spectacularly as this reality.‘ He could not be more right.

We finally reach Homer and drive up to my Aunt’s place on Bald Mountain and promptly fall asleep in the warm & comfortable home.

We awake to find the group of Hawaiians long gone and Mr. Quiet stoking a small breakfast fire.

After a quick meal of Cliff Bars and 5-hour energy guzzled by those of us on a heavy caffeine addiction, we break down camp and I take a last minute respite to act like a bear (and shit in the woods)

Removing our socks, shoes, and pant-legs, some of us don Teva sandals while others opt for flip flops, water proof socks, or nothing at all in preparation for fording the Glacier fed river.

Did I mention that it’s a GLACIER FED RIVER. *this means that it’s REALLY REALLY COLD.

The crossing goes smoothly and we all capture a few shots of the crossing:

Cousac manages to lose a Flip-Flop and snaps a photo

See the Glacier feeding the river off in the distance?

A sign on the opposite side of the river tells us how to cross safely… thanks for the heads up; thanks a lot.

Ford Glacier River: CHECK

We hike along Eagle River for a bit, enjoying the change in scenery, secure in the fact that we’re now more than half way through the hike.

Along the path, we cross a foot bridge with a rope support line above:

Fast legs is caught grinning prior to our next rope

We are also assisted by a rappelling rope to make it down a rather steep decline with a Ladder on the other side for a swift way back up.

We stop for water at another stream and I catch Sancho watering the forest like he’s a five year old with his pants down around his ankles. I laugh because I’m a 13 year old boy stuck inside of a 28 year old man’s body.

(for some reason I’m reminded of heroin addiction by this picture…)

We sing and clap some more (singing mostly 80s songs and the Styx song ‘Lady’ in particular for no reason whatsoever) [Note: Lady is the unofficial theme song for any Great Alaskan Adventure. Do not question or challenge this fact, simply accept, love it, and stop humming it to yourself. LAAAAADYY] , avoiding bears successfully until Mr. Quiet charges up behind us warning us of a bear coming down the mountain a few hundred yards above and ahead of us. We marvel at nature and decide that it’s safe to pass.

Bear sighting: CHECK

Shortly after the encounter, we break for lunch in the woods for our final rehydrated meal. This time it’s Oriental Chicken and Rice. It is by far the best tasting meal of the three consumed to date.

I take a moment to chill out without a 35 pound pack on my back

We cross a stream which gushes through the trees and Cousac takes the opportunity to get artsy and capture the moment

We cross past beaver dams

We pause atop a large granite outcropping for a few group shots

And continue down the trail, walking easily on the ever expanding trail.

The snow and ice has turned to stones and forest. The trail is difficult only because of the size of the rocks we scramble:

A few miles out from the end of the trail, we come across a set of steps leading down to the river from logs.

Cousac leaps from rock to rock and finds himself in the center of Eagle River capturing the surrounding majesty

We amble down the rest of the path and pause to capture the greenery

We also stopped at the boardwalk in the swamp by the end of the trail to have a sit and enjoy the tranquility

Finally, reunited, we finish the hike at the Eagle River Nature Center and get a group shot

26 miles ‘aint so bad after all.

From Left to Right - Sancho, Me, Mr. Brown, Fast Legs, Mr. Quiet, and Cousac

For ALL of the pictures, check out our various sets here, here, here, and here)

An early morning breakfast followed by a trip to the local Alaskan Walmart (framed nicely by mountains jutting up behind its grey and blue trademark) and we were on our way towards the first of our epic adventures for the week.

The drive down from Anchorage to Girdwood is impressive in and of itself. We stopped at Beluga Point for a few shots:

Even caught the ‘Great Alaskan Railroad’ heading past chocked full of tourists snapping photos of us snapping photos. How quaint.

A mere five miles later and we caught our initial first-hand encounter with an avalanche recently cleared from the road:

We met up with some of my old friends from childhood who were along for the hike as friends and as much-needed guides. The Crow Pass hike is listed as 26 miles at the trail head. It’s a long way from Girdwood to Eagle River through the mountains. Snapping one or two inaugural photos of a nearby waterfall and the group at or most well rested and anxious moment of the trip:

I’m not a hundred percent sure what the elevation was at the start of the hike, but that’s something I’ll have to do some research on and get back to you all on.

All packed up and ready to go, the six hikers start up the path in full stride, accepting a last minute offer for ski/walking poles. Ten minutes into the hike – possibly less - we break because we are winded and FAR over dressed for the 50 degree weather despite heavy mist and promise of snow at the top.

Shedding a few layers and donning rain ponchos to cover our packs and gear, we proceed up the hill, taking a few shots along the way:

We walked past an abandoned mine with a plaque. How they ever got all that gear up into the mountains is beyond me. Further up the hill, we begin to run into snow in the shadows and north facing sides of the trail. Stopping for a breath, we take in the sites near a washed out part of trail and opt for a better traveled shot straight up the mountain.

Upon reaching our first major animal along the hike, I silently point and whisper “look… eagle…” photos are snapped from afar and we proceed closer.

Hmm, maybe it’s a hawk.

Er.. no. It’s a flightless bird – Alaska’s State bird the Ptarmigan to be exact. Mr. Quiet tells Cousac to throw a rock at it or whack it with his ski pole – “we can eat it”. Cousac opts for shooting it with his DSLR instead:

Slightly up the path we run into our first significant encounter with snow on the trail. Mr. Quiet and Fast Legs don their snowshoes as Cousac and I trod on steadily, only breaking through every tenth step or so. I am very happy for my water resistant pants, high ankle hiking boots, and faux wool REI socks.

Reaching the summit ahead of the rest of the group and recognizing the ‘what the f*ck have I gotten myself into’ looks on two of our four traveler’s faces as we trek up the 1500+ foot climb to the summit, I shout down that we are not, in fact, as far along as we thought and were only half way up the mountain.

(I gaze down at the A frame a few hundred feet up trail)

Seeing resignation, disappointment, and steadfasntess on said hiker’s faces, Cousac and I chuckle as we munch on Cliff Bars and sip water from our bladders kept icy cold in the mountain air, all the while looking down at the cabin close to the summit which makes the first of many markers along the way of our hike 4 miles in.

Reach first milestone in vacation adventure: CHECK

The A-frame cabin is maintained by the state and friendly hikers and we added our names to the registrar in the form of ‘group of six’, using the dry home as a place to air out sweaty feet and grab a quick bite before hitting the trail again.

The four ‘tourists’ (myself included) opted to get ahead of the group and ran into a few bear hunters on their way back down the mountain. They warned us of somewhat heavy snow & washed out trails ahead. We stopped at the true summit at 3500 feet and marveled at the dense fog.

After hiking a bit further, we were unable to recover the trail and waited around for the locals to catch up.

Looking about, Mr. Quiet, upon being asked by Mr. Brown where the trail is, responds ‘I don’t know… somewhere this way I think’ and proceeds across what can only be described as a washed out avalanche covered in snow and ice with no true end in site through the fog. NICE.

I laugh, and resolve myself not to be nervous.

An ominous slide mark comes from above in the fog and disappears far below out of sight. Mr. Brown asks Mr. Quiet warily ‘what’s that?’ to which Mr. Quiet responds ‘Probably where that guy died last week’

I laugh again. Mr. Quiet does not. Mr. Brown looks a tad green. We hike on.

Mr. Quiet falls behind looking for alternate routes and playing in the snow as Cousac and I persevere on across an even longer snow covered washout. I’m not nervous, and long ago kicked my fear of heights, but a sense of vertigo cannot be avoided when one peers into the bright white gloom disappearing into the unseen depths below. One wrong step or falter could quite literally mean death at this point.

I feel this is a good time for photos.

Good thing we grabbed those ski poles.

Note the large group coming up behind us and following our tracks. They ended up being a friendly group of Hawaiian tourists with a local guide up for the same two day hike as we are. Hell, if a group of kids from Hawaii can do this, we sure can. This becomes my morale manipulating mantra.

Upon reaching the other side, Mr. Brown needs a cigarette and Sancho admits that he is ‘No longer having fun’ Cousac and I agree that we should have probably been more scared than we were, but that it all adds to the experience. Nobody complains, and life is good.

Survive Ice trail crossing: CHECK

At this small outcrop of rocks in the snow and fog, it appears that we are standing on an oasis of reality amidst a floating sea of white-nothing. The disparity from normalcy is reinforced by the large bumblebee hovering about between the mountain flowers poking through the snow and rocks. I feel alive.

From this point, we hike along some rocks, following trail markers which include a pile of rocks and an ancient Dinty Moore Ravioli can perched atop a boulder conspicuously.

We reach the end of the rocks and are unable to find a way down. At this point, Sancho finds footprints leading into the fog and note the odd sliding pattern that the shoes follow. We all tentatively start down the hill following the fresh slide marks. We are finally able to see the bottom and note that it is a nice and even slop that flattens out into a mountain meadow. We jump the rest of the way down and slide with reckless abandon and joy.

Mr. Quiet perches atop an uncovered game-trail looking for the best route down.

More hiking brings along another quick slide down and out of the snow.

Our first major stream crossing results in a few wet feet, but gives us the opportunity to refill our water bladders and catch our breath.

A bit later we cross back over the stream which gushes through a deep chasm below us as we cross over the man made bridge and break for lunch on the other side at a small clearing.

Mr. Quiet cooks in a miraculous little self contained thermous device that we use to boil river water and rehydrate our dehydrated food. Beef Strogonof is amazing.

Entering the valley, the fog begins to lift as we decend and Sancho is caught marveling at the scenery – I am in awe as well.

From this point on, the terrain begins to turn into high grass and trees – perfect Bear country. We sing, whistle, clap and generally make a racket while hiking about.

Stopping briefly at a large outcropping, I yet again decide to make an ass of myself and shoot some candid shots

Mr. Brown summits the rock, making my whole spectacle all the more ridiculous =)

At this point in the hike, we’re all pretty worn out. All of us, that is, except Fast Legs who decides it’s a good time to begin running down the ‘boring’ trail. Those at the back miss the message that we’re ‘fun’ running and scramble to catch up wondering if we’re running from bears or moose or something else that could potentially kill us.

Once told that we were, in fact, running for the sake of running, the group decides (some reluctantly) that running is no longer an option. Ten hours of hiking and being outside is enough.

We spend the rest of the ever-lengthening walk in relative silence as knees begin to ache, packs become heavy with wear, and morale begins to drop as evening sets in.

Fortunately for us, it is nearing the summer solstice and nightfall doesn’t really mean much beyond twilight. WE turn a corner and are greeted with the sight of Eagle Glacier feeding a flat, wide river in a valley below. A quick twenty minutes later, we stumble into camp and set up just downstream from our Hawaiian brethren.

You can make out Eagle Glacier behind the tents in the distance

Reach campsite alive: CHECK

Drying out our wet clothing by the fire and enjoying another rehydrated meal (this time consisting of Beef Stew – also delicious) makes for a great night of sleep.

note: it is still cool to wear socks and sandals in Alaska.

We ended up falling asleep around midnight with the idea of getting rolling around 9am.

Night is not discernable by any perceptible drop in daylight, but rather from the snores eminating from tents strewn about camp. I fall asleep happily on my mat, grateful for this thin insulation from the cold earth and for my +20 degree sleeping bag in which I sleep naked but for my boxer-briefs.

I’m writing this entry on the way back from my epic adventure to Alaska. It’s been one hell of a ride. I was in Alaska for roughly 10 days and am now quite thoroughly on Alaska time – apparent by the fact that I’m wide awake at 1am Alaska Time (5am Eastern) with no sense of sleep in my future despite being an impeccable airline sleeper.

All in all, I was able to accomplish everything that I wanted to while in Alaska and a tremendous amount more than I anticipated. I get ahead of myself.

The grand adventure began at noon on the dot Friday, the 13^th of June when, after successfully navigating the song and dance that is TSA ‘Security,’ I plopped myself down and took a long break from my quest for 175 with a tall glass of icy cold beer and a steak hoagie yuppied up by being served on flatbread with seasoned fries. Ah, pretentious DC, how I did not miss thee.

A short eleven or twelve hours later, I landed in the Anchorage International Airport to be happily greeted by my dad and three buddies who made the trek up to Alaska in the days and hours prior to my arrival. It being 10pm, the sun was naturally out and we drove our sweet new rental SUV the hour out of town to my pops place, stopped for beer, and proceeded to get packed up for an early departure for the mountain hike.

Arrive successfully: CHECK

I’ve started a new quest. Much like my quest for 185, I’m on a quest to drop a few more lbs for summer. I started this week off at a hefty 189 lbs and have set my 3 month goal at 175 lbs. I have until August 4th to drop the weight and I’m pretty confident that I can do so without vastly changing much aside from adding in a few workouts and eating a little healthier. I dropped down to 184 after my run this evening and a late lunch, so that’s already 5 lbs. Granted, most of that weight was water and pizza, but a gain is a gain (or would it be a loss is a gain?) and I’m happy about it.

I’ll be chronicling my workouts, gains and losses here with the help of www.mapmyrun.com along the way. You can also subscribe to my workout feed here.

So far this summer I’ve found it difficult to pull the 2 hours in the gym I usually put in 3 days a week on top of the 4 to 6 days of running that I’ve done in the past. With work, softball, and an active social life full of travel, my gym time has decreased further and further, and my caloric intake has increased  exponentially. It’s not so much that I’m looking to lose that much more weight, I’m just looking to get that fire back in my belly that spurs me on towards a leaner stronger version of myself; a ‘The Alaskan 2.0′ if you will.

Lately I’ve found that the fire for much in my life aside from that which is fun has dwindled. I’m not as motivated at work as I once was, and putting up an extra five lbs in the gym just doesn’t carry the same as it once did. That being said, I’m having an AWESOME time doing all of the fun things I want to. From road trips to West Virginia & Buffalo to  sky-diving (twice!) to Off Road Adventures to ATV trips to Vegas and crabbing on the beach, I’ve had an amazing summer with more to come with an epic trip to Alaska just a week away.

More to follow soon, so stay tuned, come often, and if you REALLY want to know what’s going on with me on a moment-to-moment basis, subscribe to my twitter feed at http://twitter.com/thealaskan.

I’m also growing a beard for my Grand Alaskan Adventure. What do you think?

Am I the only one who can’t wait for the Flight of the Conchords to come back out?

Chris: man…sometimes I wish a sleigh pulled by flying penguins would come pick me up and take me home

Sancho: yeah… that would be nice

Chris: maybe even provide a snack

Chris: and a hooker

Chris: 3 hookers

Sancho: yeah… what’s not to love about that?

Chris: well if you get little people you’d be pissed

Sancho: yeah.. you’d need to specify that the hookers be attractive, disease-free, female humans… you wouldn’t wanna end up with penguin hookers

Sancho: cuz penguins can be whores

Chris: disease free?

Chris: I’d be more concerned with the little people aspect

Chris: I’m the epitomy of health

Sancho: haha… i dunno.. i think i’d bang a little person hooker because I’d bang a big person hooker with AIDS

Chris: oh…I thought you meant like the clap

Chris: yea Aids would be bad…bring on the midgets

Chris: lucky for us the odds of getting one is low let alone 3

Sancho: I wish we could use the phrase “bring on the midgets” more often in our daily lives

Chris: it rather does fill one with a sense of excitement

Chris: like something out of the ordinary is about to occur

Chris: comin home…bring on the midgets

Sancho: word

Chris: so do you think trains of thoughts have a caboose?

Chris: like an after thought

Chris: what a weird word…CA..BOOSE

Chris: lol