On Fri, Jul 29, 2011 at 7:40 PM, Vaj <[email protected]> wrote:
> > > Alex, can we get a pict of you posing with a gun? Any type. Or next to a > dead animal you killed? Any kind (except roadkill, of course). > > ;-) > > > > Standing next to an animal you've killed with a gun doesn't prove you're a man. Now what I did shows manhood. You see, I was up working in Alaska during the Valdez days. One Saturday I I got some time off so I went to the Pioneer Club in downtown Anchorage. The Pioneer Club is the oldest extant bar in Anchorage and it's typical Alaskan redneck. I ordered up a beer, turned to the guy sitting next to me and told him that I was from Texas but that I sure loved Alaska, it was so pretty and that I'd do anything to become an Alaskan. Apparently there were a bunch of guys who honed in on the conversation. One guy behind me said "Tex, do you really want to become an Alaskan?" I said "Yes, of course." "Well now, it's easy to become an Alaskan. There are only 3 steps involved." "What do I have to do? I'd do anything to become an Alaskan." "Tex, first, you have to drink you up a whole bottle of Yukon Jack, all in one sitting." I ordered up a bottle of Yukon Jack and a glass and commenced to drinking. "OK, what else do I have to do?" "You have to kill yourself a grizzly bear with your bare hands." "Shoot. we do that for fun on a Saturday night." "What's the last thing I have to do?" "You have to rape yourself an Eskimo woman." I involuntarily spit out the Yukon Jack I had in my mouth. "Shoot. Do you know how ugly those Eskimos are?" "Tex, it's not two out of three." So, I finished the bottle of whiskey and wondered/half staggered out into the Alaskan winter. About 4 hours later I was outside the Pioneer Club, lying on my stomach, with just enough strength to tap on the door. My clothes were pretty much clawed off and I was bleeding from the dozens of claw marks. Eventually someone heard my tap, tap, tap and they opened the door. A couple guys picked me up, sat me down on the bar stool and held me, trying to keep me from sliding off the bar stool and hitting the deck again. Finally I got up enough strength to speak. "OK, where's this Eskimo woman I got to go kill?"
