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12:33 p.m. - 2002-08-09
One of the most charming parts of the fisherman life was being out on the ocean and getting visited by curious porpoises. For those of you who are not familiar with porpoises, they are like the dolphins of the sea. They would swim along with the boat and often come closer were one to bang on the aluminum side of the vessel. They would jump and play in the wake, and create a magical feeling in the gullet of us land mammals.

I miss that.

Speaking of land mammals, I think I am turning into a calf as I ingested only cookies and one full half gallon of milk in the last 24 hours.

Speaking of other land mammals and fishing, the owner of the boat, who was not a part of the crew, was a drunkard by the moniker Pete. He would often tell his wife in a dishonest fashion that there was a problem on the boat that he had to take care of so that he could escape to visit us and get drunk. I was never happy about this. I wished he would lie to us and go visit his wife, as one of the more disgusting habits he held was a problem with not being quite sure what appropriate behavior for relieving ones bladder is, in this society.

The first time his lack of knowledge came to my attention was when I saw him pee directly into our tiny sink, all over the dishes, and worse yet, the dish sponge that was sitting within.

I still refuse to speculate how many times this happened without a witness.

No…no I won’t speculate.

Another time, at a pub, I came across him peeing out the front door, trapping two screaming female patrons between his urine stream and the wall.

Another time he fell down in the parking lot while peeing, and soaked himself in a fountain like display.

Another time he pulled over to the side of the a busy road, all of us in the cab of his truck, and used an act of needing something from the back of his pick-up as subterfuge for his true purpose from the many passing cars. The lot of us let out a cheer of “Pete!” in approval of his accomplishing his task without the use of hands to direct the instrument, but it was soon revealed upon his return that this may have been premature as he was completely soaked form the waste down in his own urine.

He didn’t seem to care, a lot less than we did anyway, and he proceeded to dry himself with a pillow that was on the seat. A pillow that I had fell asleep on on a previous occasion. I refuse, again, to speculate about anything.


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