THE FIELDS OF FISH AND OTHER STRANGE ANOMALIES THAT PLAQUE THE VIDIOT'S TRADE DELEGATION…posted by Bill Arnett @ 1:01 PM Permalink DATELINE: Somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico:
…caused a temporary inability over the weekend to update the Vidiot's travel across the Gulf of Mexico, leading a trade delegation from the Gulf States of America to seek negotiation of new treaties with Mexico's President Felipe Calderon and Cuba's Raul Castro.
This inability to transmit an update was not caused by equipment failure, no, it was caused by the temporary insanity of the entire delegation. It is suspected that it was a combination of noxious fumes and the strange anomalies that have either come to exist, or not, in the Gulf itself.
It was while breathing these fumes, that seemingly have psychoactive properties, that the Vidiot's party (just a small one: a keg and cold sandwiches as no one was sure if it was safe to light up the barbecue) suddenly realized that the camp they had made the night before was parked in what can only be called "a field of fish," where, oddly enough, it seems that hundred of thousands of small fish had made it to the surface of the now almost fully congealed oil and that in an attempt to reenter what used to be water they became trapped with their heads stuck in the tar, leaving only their tails waving in the wind.
It truly was a sight to drive men mad, so while all the men were mad it was left to the Vidiot, with her indomitable spirit, to pack up the camp by herself, tie the vehicles together end-to-end, and literally pull the men back to sanity while she towed them all out of these strange fields single-handedly.
"Hell, I coulda stayed home and done this kinda stuff!" over and over she muttered sotte voce, with an occasional, "While the men have all the fun a woman's work is never done!" just for good measure.
As the last of this long impromptu train of vehicles exited the fields of fish the Vidiot found another anomaly completely strange, odd, unknown, hitherto unseen by man or woman, living or dead or under the influence of strong drink and/or drugs.
She suddenly found herself dragging the party (not everyone was in drag) onto the most flat, level, uninterrupted as far as the eye could see area of lush green grasses, later found to be a hybrid of seaweed and Bermuda grass, leaving the Vidiot to wonder if Bermuda was now trying to inject themselves forcefully into her negotiations with Mexico and Cuba.
While she briefly considered declaring war against Bermuda for this transgression a hugh flock of birds, coming from the east, flew over excreting "poop" (a highly scientific term not usually used with laymen as they are usually so impassioned about trying to get laid that they don't listen anyway) full of grass seeds. Even given this new discovery, however, it remains unknown by what manner the seeds of grass managed to pollinate the seaweed to create this new hybrid grass.
The Vidiot's party (still going on despite her travails) spent the rest of the day relaxing on this comfortable surface, especially when Dr Vidiot discovered that seeds of marijuana had also worked their way into the new hybrid gene pool.
Fortunately several herein unidentified men had rolling papers on hand and were thus able to provide immediate confirmation of this new finding by Dr Vidiot. This did cause some consternation as several members of the party (which had really picked up the pace now) wandered off and found that the grass was just tall enough to conceal themselves from view if they laid or fell down stoned, once again leaving it to the Vidiot to, by herself, unload the trucks, pitch the tents (or bitch about tents, her meaning was not immediately clear as she was speaking parenthetically, a language thought to be long dead), fix the munchies, and generally prepare the camp for the night.
After the camp was pitched (or bitched, it's still unclear) the Vidiot grabbed herself a large beach umbrella, a broad-brimmed hat, sunscreen, a bottle of tequila she had brought for President Calderon, but now realized that he probably had enough of his own, and left the party (now starting to flag) to it's own amusements while she relaxed on her beach lawn chair, under her beach umbrella, applying her beach sunscreen, muttering about some son of a beach, and taking the rest of the day off. To insure she remained undisturbed she carried her new ten gauge shotgun (which itself was disturbing) and posted a signed saying, "Leave me the hell alone!" which is exactly what the rest of the party did for the remainder of the day and into the night.
Further updates will be forthcoming (not that I've concealed anything or been less than honest; I never lie unless I am alone or with somebody) tomorrow.