Chapter 164  Take a Little off the Top and Create a Monster 

1000 Hours Monday Morning, 15 miles east of I-75  (Frank)

The rain still fell by the bucket but wind was down to about 30kts with gusts to at least 40.   Conditions were still terrible for flying or working outside but we had to get Gangesanus stopped.

The HU-1A Huey bounced along at about 600 feet.  Gangesanus was easy to follow even in dense woods as it tracked generally ENE simply growing around or over every thing it encountered. 

Suddenly we lost sight of Gangesanus.   We were now ahead of the fast moving top.  One circle and there it was again right below.  I asked CW3 Murphy to land in a nearby clearing.

Capt. Clark and I were first on the ground followed by Sgt. Jones and a couple of his guys.  The Flame Thrower was a heavy SOB and handling it in the wind, rain and mud was tough. 

Gangsanus was moving at a slow walk.  I wish I could have measured the speed but stopping it was job 1.  At the very tip, Gangesanus was at least 3 feet in diameter.  I took time for one photo before Sgt. Jones hosed the top of the advancing plant with flame.  Gangesanus hissed, spit, sputtered and writhed in the flames.  Forward growth ceased but I told Sgt. Jones to burn the plant back 20 feet, just to be sure we’d destroyed all of the meristematic tissue.

Capt. Clark sent Sgt. Jones and his men back to the Huey.  We stood by for an hour watching in the wind and rain to make sure we had, in fact, stopped all forward growth.

I should have known better.  When we destroyed the meristematic tissue, we created a monster.

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Chapter 165 A Call From J. Edgar Hoover  UF Sex Ergonomics Dept.  Monday, 1500 Hours (Buddy)

Marlene buzzed me and said, “Dr. Buddy, you have a call from a Mr. J. Edgar Hoover on line 3.” 

I’d been neglecting my job at least a little.  I try to keep up with my research projects between semesters but, for the past week, I’d only been in my office once.  When Marlene told me I had a call from J. Edgar Hoover, I was a little surprised. 

“Dr. Mc Waters, sir.”

“Alton, (Nobody but nobody ever calls me Alton) this is J. Edgar Hoover, Director of the FBI.”

Yessir, please call me Buddy.  How may I help you?

“You can start by telling me what kind of dealings you have with President Kennedy.”

Sir, that matter is personal and completely confidential. 

“Alton, are you a Communist?”

YOUGOTTABEF*****GKIDDING!

“I can stop your Federal and State Grants with one phone call and I can have your a$$ on a plane to DC in 30 minutes if you refuse to cooperate.”

Sir, you can’t do that.

“Listenhereyoucrackera$$hole.  I know about your dealings with Mikhail Grotsky and Barak Palmgren.  You are a Commie just like them and I will not have you dealing with my President.”

Sir, Grot and Barak are merely acquaintances.  I have no knowledge of their politics.  I roomed with Grot for a semester and met Barak through him.  Later I learned Barak is one of my best friend’s brother.

I moved slightly in my chair and my abused buttcrack began to burn again.   Suddenly I realized the person on the other end of the line may not really be J. Edgar Hoover.  A car parked in a Visitor’s parking place right outside my window, a light, gray Crown Victoria.   Two big guys in suits got out and hurried in through the pouring rain.  I couldn’t see them well.  Could they be Mary Nell’s cohorts?

I broke the connection, opened a window on the side of my office and dropped 6’ to the ground.

Damn I wish I had a cell phone!

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Chapter 165 The Hermaphrodite  1100 Hours about 15 miles ENE of I-75.    Narrator.

Eaglet
“Speak English! I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and I don't believe you do either!”  Another quote from Lewis Carrols “Alice In Wonderland.”

Somewhere, deep within the primordial tissue of Gangesanus gianticus, signals were being generated.  These primitive signals were the plant’s response to the killing blow to its meristematic tissue.  The Flame Thrower effectively destroyed Gangesanus’ continued growth.  Gangesanus gianticus switched into the survival mode, the survival of the species.

Signals were sent to all immature flower heads.  These signals started sex change. 

Our particular plant started out female and, doubtlessly, would have finally died as a female but for the catastrophe which destroyed its meristematic tissue.  As a female plant with no chance of fertilization, there was absolutely no danger of reproduction.  It would have been simply “One of a kind.”  Now male parts would be generated, allowing Gangesanus to fertilize itself. 

Soon there could be literally millions of these huge plants.

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Chapter 166 A Pot of Gold and/or a Potential Disaster at the End of the Rainbow.  The command post on I-75 1800 hours  (Frank)

About 1300 hours, Hurricane Mary Nell began to move faster after a course change to WNW.  Weather forecasters predicted a landfall between the mouth of the Mississippi and Brownsville, TX.  Around 1700, we were treated to a fantastic rainbow.  The rain was gone and the heavy winds dropped to a strong breeze.

The woods were completely flooded on both sides of I-75 and water was across the interstate in several places.  Traffic flowed slowly through the flooded sections but the highway was still open. 

At 1730 another helicopter arrived with several Engineers.  Bubba and I were asked to sit in on their meeting with Col. Fuller.  Bubba and I were sort of resident experts.

Topographic maps of the area were laid out.  Unfortunately detail was not great but we had a good general idea of the terrain.  The Engineers got a birds-eye view of the area before landing and I was amazed how quickly they oriented our position on the charts.

They were soon able to pinpoint where Gangesanus needed to be cut to allow water to drain.  The plant would have to be severed in 6 places and the gaps would range from about 100 feet to almost a mile in width.  I volunteered my airboat for transport and survey work. 

Col. Fuller asked how long it would take to get the airboat to the command post.  I told him I could have it there in less than an hour if I could get a chopper ride to the cabin.  Ten minutes later we were air born.

I asked Mr. Murphy to fly out to the top of the plant to make sure it had not started growing again.  One end of the rainbow was right on our course.  We were there within 5 minutes.  The clearing was lit in pink and gold, the rainbow’s end.

As we landed in the clearing, several pick-ups roared up.  The guys started hacking at the tops of Gangesanus.  Each of these tops weighed at least 50 pounds; fifty pounds of prime, potent smoke.  Each top represented a small fortune.   

I was able to reach one of the tops before the poachers.  With parts so huge, it was easy to see that the plant was now dioecious; it had both male and female parts.  Gangesanous could begin to multiply. 

We now had a potential environmental disaster at hand.  These pot rustlers must be stopped.



Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Chapter 167 We’re Receiving Ground Fire From the Tree Line!  Apex of Gangesanus 1945 hours (CW3 Murphy)

Capt. Clark and I ran back to the Loach.  Before boarding I said, “We’ve got to stop these guys.  The plant is now able to reproduce.  Can you imagine what would happen if thousands of these monsters were planted?”

(Capt. Clark) “We’ll have to get a squad of MPs’ up here to stand guard until we can figure out what to do next.  It will be dark soon so we gotta call the command post for reinforcements.”

The Loaches radio couldn’t reach the command post from the ground.  Once airborn, Capt. Clark  was able to contact Col. Fuller and explain the situation.  

“Get tag numbers and vehicle descriptions plus the number of occupants in the vehicles,” Col. Fuller ordered.  “Are you armed, Captain?”

“Yessir, I have my sidearm.” 

About that time, there were several loud whacks on the side of the Loach.  Mr. Murphy yelled, “Sir, we’re receiving fire from the tree line!”

The chopper slewed off hard to port under full power.  I was damned proud of the harness.

Col. Fuller heard Mr. Murphy and told us to stand by, well out of range of the ground fire.

“I’ll have a squad of MPs at your location in 15 minutes.  Stand by to follow the vehicles if they leave.”

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

Joel Murphy

Pace, FL.

Rhett and I went to Boca Grande yesterday for a fly fishing trip with Capt. Pete Greenan.  It was a really good off-season trip with one of Florida's premier guides.  I learned more about what I was doing wrong as a fly fisherman than I ever have in a month before.

We caught lots of fish under far less than perfect conditions.

I highly recommend fishing with Pete. 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Chapter 168 No Keys!  1515 Hours Monday hiding in the bushes—in the rain.  (Buddy)

Clean getaways only happen in the movies or to real professionals.  Unfortunately for me, I am only a Researcher and College Professor and I won’t ever be in a movie like Ken was.  My car keys were lying on my desk along with my wallet and spare change. 

I had to get away from the building and put some distance between me and those guys.  I only hoped they wouldn’t hurt Marlene. 

In less than a minute I was completely soaked but at least I was protected from the wind by the building.  Three gunshots from inside the building ended my inaction.  I hauled a seriously sore a$$ about 300 yards, through some bushes and over a fence into a residential district.  With nobody else out in the rain, I was pretty conspicuous.  Off in the distance I heard another gun shot.

Marlene was dead, I was sure of that.  That last shot was right between the eyes.  They'd leave no wittnesses.  I needed a safe place in the worst way.

A minute or two later, an ambulance with siren and flashing lights went flying by and turned in toward my office.  Seconds later a woman tore out of the bushes right behind me.  MARLENE!!!

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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I am... the anti-PETA

Chapter 169  Reinforcements  Monday 2010 Hours  East of I-75  (Frank)

As the other Loach with 8 MPs aboard approached the clearing where the pick-ups were being loaded, a red Dodge Power Wagon tried to leave.  The pilot set his Loach right in the middle of the only passable road out of the area.  The MPs scrambled out and their Sergeant yelled, “Lock and load.”

Two guys spilled out of the truck and headed for the swamp.  There would be no fight.  With whatever arms the rednecks had they’d be no match for 8 trained MPs.

One of the MPs drove the Power Wagon and blocked the exit road.

Mr. Murphy flew us back to the command post.

We still needed to get the airboat out to I-75 and I absolutely was not able to do it.  I was freezing.

I asked Col. Fuller if he could get Mr. Murphy to fly me back to the Sorority House and take Clint or Bubba to pick up the airboat.  No problem.

On the way to the Sorority House, Mr. Murphy said, “Frank, we are mighty low on fuel.”  He pointed to a gauge.  It looked empty to me.  We were running on fumes when we landed.

“Mr. Murphy,” I said, “Welcome to the finest whorehouse in Florida.”

Clint and Bubba drove out to the cabin to deliver the airboat.

Mr. Murphy got mighty lucky.  I got a hot shower and a long nap.

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Chapter 170 A Little Slack then the Deepest of  Cracks for Barak.  Monday morning around 10.  Chicago.  (Barak)

After they tortured me for 2 days, they tied a sack over my head and flew me to DC and handed me over to Jerre Jackson.  The Reverend took me to a whorehouse where I stayed for 2 days.  I was too scared to leave.

“You mean they held you without charges for 2 days?  Oh yeah, whodaf*** is THEY?”

Uh, Mr. Hoffa, they introduced themselves as Agent X, Agent Y and Agent A.

“Ok, so they are A---GENTS so what A---GEN---CY?”

Damifiknow.  I don’t even know where they held me for sure.  Bobby Kennedy said “Take him to Quantico” so it must be FBI, right?

“Did you actually see Bobby Kennedy?  Are you sure it was Kennedy?”

Damright it was Kennedy!  I’ve seen him on TV too many times not to recognize him.

“What did you tell them?”

I didn’t tell them nothin’ cause I don’t know nothin’.

“Did anybody mention my name?”

Yeah, I told them you helped with finances and provided muscle when I needed a little help.

“Hotdam kid, you are gonna have to disappear for a long time.  If this goes to court, I don’t want you as a witness for the other side.  I’ll get the boys who hid Huey P. Long.  They are the experts.”

Uh, Mr. Hoffa, Huey Long is dead.

“Naaah, he's just under real deep cover.”

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Joel Murphy

Pace, FL.

Chapter 171  They Were Gonna Take the Orgazmatron.  Off campus.  1520 Hours Marlene Williams

They looked in your office and saw the open window and figured you’d jumped out. Then they wanted keys to your lab.  I told them I didn’t have them.  They cut my phone wire and handcuffed me to my chair.  Then they shot the lock and went into the lab and started taking photos. 

After they entered the lab it took me about one second to slip the cuffs over the back of the chair arm.  

I peeked around the door and saw them trying to move the Orgasmatron.  I heard one of them say it was designed for JFK.  They weren’t gonna take MY Orgazmatron.  I want it for myself.  I just love that thing!

I got my .32 out of my purse and shot both of them from outside the door then ran like hell. 

Marlene’s wrists were still cuffed.  “Are they dead, I asked.”  

I know I hit one of them in the foot and I think I shot the other one in the d***.  They were both doing a lot of screaming and bleeding.

"Uh, what was that last shot," I asked.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot.  I blasted a tire just in case.  Whothehell are those guys?

(I guess this chapter has sort of a moral.  "Don't mess with a girl's favorite toy.")

 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

Miss Martha goes all out for our boys in uniform.  Warrant Officer Murphy  was supposed to get the $3000 "Presidential treatment," complete with a gourmet dinner and the world famous Whorehouse Breakfast but Col. Fuller screwed things up for him.

Ole Joel got close enough to know what he missed.   Miss Martha didn't give him a rain check so his heroic actions were for nought.  At least he will have a life long vision of what might have been. 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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Marijuana Dreamin' 

Chapter 172 WO Joe Almost Gets the Works The Sorority House.   Monday night—Tuesday Morning.  (Frank)

As soon as we arrived at the Sorority House, I called Clint and asked him to get the airboat out to the Command Post ASAP. 

Mr. Murphy (Joel by now) reported in to the Command Post on I-75 after we landed.  He informed Capt. Clark that he was very low on fuel and needed to make an inspection of the Loach to check for damage.  Capt. Clark told him to wait until daylight for the inspection and order a fuel truck in the morning.

Miss Martha decided to give Joel the “Presidential Treatment.”  Dinner, shower with his own personal “bather,” massage, manicure, pedicure, three girls of his choice, “World Famous Whorehouse Breakfast” and maybe even a little something extra after breakfast. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

Do you reckon the President gets this kind of treatment, 24/7/52/4 (or more)?  If they do, no wonder ex-Presidents look so much older.

I ate a late dinner with Joel.  He was amazed by Miss Sarah Nell’s culinary skill.  I’ll have to admit it was mighty fine.  I kinda think he liked her looks a whole lot.  It looked sorta like love at first sight.

After dinner, Windy Gale led Joel off to the “Orgy Shower.”  That boy is in for one helluva night, I thought.

I took a long shower then looked through the list of phone calls Miss Martha gave me.  Only one was marked “Urgent.” It was from Buddy.  "Call me at home whatever time you get this message."

I had to use the phone in the hall because Miss Martha was on her private line.  When I called, there was no answer at his house.  Just for the hell of it, I tried his private number at the Sexual Ergonomics Department at the University.  His phone was answered on the first ring.

"Sgt. Joe Friday."  I said, sorry, wrong number and started to hang up but Friday said, "I'm with the Gainesville PD and there has been a shooting in the office here."

"DUM-TA-DUMP-DUMP!"  (I am sure this "Dragnet Theme" will be lost on most who read it.  You gotta be old to appreciate it.)

About that time, Miss Sarah Nell came down the hall in the sheerest white Teddy I have ever seen.  That gal is K.C. Prime!

 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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I am... the anti-PETA

Chapter 173 Uh, Colonel, He is Already in Bed.  The Sorority House, Monday night about 2300.  (Frank)

Miss Martha tapped me on the shoulder and made a phone gesture with her hand and then mouthed “EMERGENCY.” 

Sgt. Friday, I said, I’ll have to call you back in a few minutes.  I have an emergency phone call on the other line.  I hung up the phone.

I went into Miss Martha’s office and she handed me her phone.  “Col. Fuller,” she said.

“Dr. Smith,” I answered.

“Doctor Smith, is WO Murphy still there?"

Uh, Colonel, he is already in bed.

“WHAT?  He was supposed to be out here 2 hours ago.”

Sir, the Captain told him to wait until morning to inspect the chopper then get fuel before flying back.

“Get Mr. Murphy on the phone ASAP.  I’ll wait.”

Aw, s#!+, I thought, this is certainly gonna screw up Joel’s evening.

I covered the phone and asked Miss Martha to go get him.   I don’t think she was real happy about the prospect but better her than me.

Several minutes passed before Joel entered the office, bare footed and in a robe.  I’m not sure but I think I saw a tear or two as I handed him the phone.

“Warrant Officer Murphy sir,” he said into the phone. 

“Mr. Murphy, you were supposed to be back here more than 2 hours ago.”

“Yes, sir but when I reported I had insufficient fuel for the trip and needed to make a damage inspection, Capt. Clark told me to wait until morning.” 

“Mr. Murphy, I have no knowledge of what you are telling me.  Capt. Clark flew to Ft. Rucker to supervise loading of the Agent Orange.  There will be a fuel truck at The Sorority House in 10 minutes.  Inspect your aircraft and return to this command post immediately.”  The phone went dead.

“Yes Sir,” Joel said into the empty line.

Three scantily clad young ladies came to kiss him good bye.  He paid a lot more attention to Miss Sarah Nell Lightsey than to the other two.

Rotten luck, I said then called Buddy’s office again. 

While I was talking to Sgt. Joe Friday, Joel walked by, dressed in his rumpled uniform.

The look on his face said, “I’m 9!$$ed.”

Life is too short to catch little fish.

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What a story, I can't wait to read more. Keep up the good work..........

Chapter 173  The $#!+ is Getting Deep Around Here.  The Sorority House. 2330 Hours.  Monday night 2330 Hours.  (Frank)

Sgt. Friday asked me a bunch of questions before telling me any more about the shooting at Buddy’s office.   I was certainly relieved to know Buddy and Marlene were not the ones wounded.  The big question now was whereinthell are Buddy and Marlene?

“A campus cop heard 3 shots and saw Dr. McWaters and his secretary run out of the office.  When he entered the office, he heard moans from the laboratory.  He found 2 wounded men in the lab then went back to the office to call an ambulance.

He found the phone had been ripped from the wall so he went to the office next door to make the call.  When he came back, the two men had guns drawn.  They shackled the rent-a-cop with his own handcuffs and left in his car.  Now we have two dangerous but wounded men on the loose.  We found a cache of sophisticated weapons and surveillance equipment in their car.”

Sgt. Friday, Dr. McWaters may have had a run in with these same guys last Wednesday night.  He was tortured for several hours.

“Whyinthehell didn’t he report it to us?”

Sgt. Friday, I think these guys are probably FBI or CIA.  I’ll call Mr. Hoover in the morning and find out if you’d like.

“Do you mean J. Edgar Hoover?” 

Yes Sir, and I can call Teddy Kennedy too if you think it might help.

“This sounds like some Industrial Strength $#!+,” Sgt. Friday said.

 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

Chapter 174  Mr. Curly’s Inspection  Sorority House 0700 Tuesday morning  (Frank)

Most of the girls worked week days.  This morning, there were nine of us at the breakfast table.  There was no menu and no special orders.  Nevertheless, breakfast at the Sorority House was a big event.  Sarah Nell was one of two of the staff who worked solely at the Sorority House.

Dr. Amanda said, “Ah wants tew check Mr. Curly this mornin’ fore yew take off fer the day.  If everthang is ok, I mi-ut’ take the stitches a-ut.  Sooner we git ‘em out, th’ sooner yew can take him for a test drive.”

I wasn’t looking forward to the stitch removal but they sure did itch.

After breakfast I went to the clinic with Dr. Amanda.

She took a quick look, twisting Mr. Curly back and forth a few times for a close examination. 

“Yep, I’ll snatch the stitches rat’ a-ut an’ it waun’t itch so much.”

Dr. Amanda gave it a quick scrub with antiseptic, then picked up scissors and tweezers.  When she got ready to clip the stitches she exclaimed, “Wodja luk aut thaut’.  He's a standin’ aut  uh-ten-chen.”

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

  WTF Ken. I dont get no loving    Clay better not get non before I do

 

Joel Murphy

Pace, FL.

Chapter 175  PVC is Almost Free  Sorority House, Tuesday morning 0800  (Frank)

Miss Martha came into the clinic about the time Dr. Amanda removed the last stitch. 

“Do you mind if I have a look; professional curiosity, you know?  Frankie, I gotta hand it to you.  Girls get a hairdoo and you get a dickiedoo.  What do you think, Amanda?  Is it gonna work?”

“Yea-uh, Doctor Frankie is gonna be rea-ul good.”

“Oh, Frankie.  You have a call on my private line.”

Dr. Smith, I answered. 

“Dr. Smith, this is Capt. Clark.  Are you planning to supervise the destruction of the giant Marijuana plant?”

I sure would like to but I have no way to get out there. 

“I’ll send Mr. Murphy to pick you up in the Loach.  Can you be ready in half an hour?  I almost forgot, we don’t have the pump sprayer you recommended for application.”

I’m ready right now and I’ll have a sprayer or some alternative by the time Joel gets here. 

Miss Martha came in just as I hung up the phone. 

Is Bobbyelee here today, I asked.

“Yes, she is in the workshop right now.”

Maybe she has something I can borrow to apply the herbicide to Gangesanus.

AUTHORS NOTE:  I haven’t introduced Bobbyelee Byrd yet.  She was a cheerleader at Ole Miss. That ought to tell you something about her looks.She is a cute little honey but don’t let that fool you.  She is in charge of the physical plant here at The Sorority House.  She manages house cleaning, laundry service, grounds keeping and maintains all electrical, plumbing and air conditioning systems.  If anything breaks, she can fix it.  

Additionally, she is a master of her other trade here at the Sorority House. 

I found Bobbyelee sharpening a lawn mower blade. 

“Hi Frankie, what are you doing in my home away from home?”

I need a pump sprayer to apply some herbicide.  I want to inject it deep inside a plant.  Then explained exactly what we needed to do to kill Gangesanus.  I told her how we planed to blast the holes with a .45. 

“Do you have goggles, and protective clothing?  What about respiratory protection?” She asked.

I knew I was asking the right person.

“Here is how I would do it.”  She said.  I wouldn’t use a pressurized sprayer.  It will be much safer to use gravity feed.  There will be far less danger from chemical vapor and splashing.  Let’s make an injection rig out of PVC pipe.  PVC is almost free.”

In less than 10 minutes, she rigged a 4’ PVC injection tube to a 2 gallon gasoline can, complete with vent. 

“Better make a bore cleaner for the injection tube just in case it gets stopped up.”  She said.

In another 5 minutes I had a workable injection system.  In another minute Mr. Murphy landed.

When I thanked Bobbyelee she asked, “Are you gonna give me a test ride on Mr. Curly?” 

Oh yeah, I had ‘em standing in line.

When I walked out the door of the workshop, I saw Miss Sarah Nell Lightsey climb in to the right seat in the Loach.  The Loach lifted off, flew about 100 yards and set down behind some Cedar Trees.

“Interesting!”

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

I am eagerly waiting the next chapter...

Am I a nice guy or what?

Right now I don't see how I'm gonna be able to do anything for Clay-Bo Palmgren, though.  The girls at the Sorority House don't go for re-tards.  Maybe I can arrange to send him to Chattahoochee.

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

Joel Murphy

Pace, FL.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

He would have to pay with crack there though, And I think he smoked up all he had

 

Joel Murphy

Pace, FL.

Chapter 176  Yes Sir, That Was Me, Alright.  Ft. Sill, OK Hospital Mess. Tuesday, 1230 Hours. 

James Lemley, Bill Tarvin and I were eating lunch when Lt. Dan Shor rolled his wheelchair up to our table.  Officers seldom ate with enlisted men but Lt. Shor was a hospital out patient awaiting discharge.  I moved a chair so he could roll right up to the table. 

He said, “Ken, do these guys know you are a movie star?” 

Uh, No Sir, I stammered, how did you know? 

“I saw Boogie Nights last night and saw your name in the credits.  Since I already knew about your other occupation, I kinda thought it might be you.  How did you manage to get the part?”

I met Bert Reynolds at the Sorority House.  Miss Martha introduced us.  Later she recommended me for the part.

“Honestly, I don’t remember seeing you in the movie at all.”

Uh, Sir, I was only in the very last scene and they didn’t show my face.

“You mean that was your ****?”

Yes Sir, I was Dirk Diggler’s **** double.

"I'm gonna make sure Major Callendine sees Boogie Nights.  She is gonna $#!+."

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/

Chapter 177  I’m Gonna Have it Bronzed.  Enroute to the Command Post Tuesday, 0930.  (Frank)

The Loach lifted off then set back down again between the Tennis Court and the Work Shop.  Miss Sarah Nell Lightsey climbed down, looking fine but a little disheveled.  She was positively skipping when she went by.

Mr. Murphy waited as I loaded the injector, a two gallon gas can and several note books.  He lashed this equipment down then we boarded and strapped in.

After we lifted off, I noticed a familiar item dangling from a toggle switch on the instrument panel.  Joel noticed me looking at it and said, “I think I am gonna have it bronzed and permanently screw it to the dash.  Sarah Nell is some kinda fine!” 

We flew right over my cabin, then to the lake and along side Gangesanus toward I-75.  I was only then beginning to realize how huge the plant actually was and how it had dammed up a huge lake.

Suddenly, a mile or so ahead, the still water erupted with an enormous explosion.  Water, mud and tons of plant material was lifted hundreds of feet into the air.  Water began to pour through the half mile gap blown in the plant.

 

Life is too short to catch little fish.

 http://www.panhandlefishingbooks.com/