Travel Tips

Okay, campers, I was at Smith's Bay, South Shore Bermuda. Was minding my own bidness swimming in the bay. (Okay, I provoked it by wearing an electric lime-green swimsuit with a big "B" on the butt), Nevertheless, I came into the 'enamorment' of a parrot fish that wouldn't leave me alone. No matter where I went, that damned fish would follow. At one point, I went up to the rocks to get away from it, and the little varmint swam *into* my pants! (Genetically speaking, we weren't a match) .

Nevertheless (now I have time to 'expand'). I'm up on the rocks, and I can see that damned fish in the water. It wasn't like "Jaws" or anything, but it made me nervous that I had to go from the rocks to the shore (about 100 feet). And it wasn't like nobody else was in the water! (I still think it was the big "B" on the trunks).

So, anyway, I take the plunge back into the water to make the "great escape". That little bastard followed me all the way back to shore, and camped out in my right pocket along the way! (EWWWWWW! Didn't like that). I got out of the water, went to shore, and had to 'save' that fish. Threw it back into John Smith's Bay and we haven't seen each other since. Parting is such sweet sorrow... (but I still have the shorts!) Can you imagine if I go back there and I get *remembered*? Perish the thought....
Jeff-

Since Rash and I were back in Denver a few weeks ago, we were able to go through a ton of crap to toss out. Needless to say, a picture of me in those damned shorts showed up on a long forgotten disk, in a long forgotten box. Personally, I wish it had stayed there. This is actually the day, and the outing, that this story happened. Notice the chagrin-ish look. You'ld look like that too if you pulled a fish out of your pocket.