Wow, Queueies -
I just dropped a Yukon Jack® "bucket"
glass full of ice on my apartment kitchen floor of concrete, covered by fairly good
lineoleum tile --and it didn't break! Glad it wasn't full of Yukie, yet! It says
Yukon Jack® right on it, and it is just right for Yukie rocks. It was one of those
Holiday Season extras that came with the bottle at no extra cost.
In Oregon, the OLCC regulates the prices and the hours of
opening for licensed purveyors. Like, if I had spilled an entire Yukie, I couldn't get any
more tonight, because the outlets close at 7 pm here. There used to be a couple in Potland
which stayed open until ten. One may buy beer and wine in groceries until 2 a.m., but beer
and wine ain't hooch. If I'm out of Yukon or scotch, I am out of booze. Amazing
that glass didn't break. It would have crippled my heart for a moment.
Sure, I have other buckets, but this is a Yukie
bucket. Special. Yukon Jack® puts out quality holiday gifts. One year they put out tin
cups, like in the pioneer coffee-over-the-fire days, and I still have two of those. I
always mean to give one each to the daughter and the ex-wife, who are accomplished
artists, so they can mix paint in them (and think of me?) but I haven't done it yet. I
wish Yukon Jack® would put out these fine buckets again.
In town (Portland, Oregon, USA) I was cool. I had two
remote controls for my Zenith® outfit, in my studio apartment in the right part of town,
so I could offer a guest a personal remote-- I wouldn't be seen to be hogging. I am an anti-control
freak. I enjoy being jacked around sometimes --if it is done artfully.
There is this buddy K.C. I
think that second to Tommy Singer, K.C. is the best mind-fucker I've ever known.
A buddy Steve is the best manipulator I've ever known --maybe second to Ward, but
mind-fucking is a real art as well as being a sport. Maybe something like billiards. You
gotta' be cold.
When I would call The Goose (Friday nights) from France
or Germany or Egypt or Kuwait or North Carolina --bucks-up from a merchant seaman's
payoff, K.C. would get on the line and tell me what was going on, give me the haps. And he
would stretch it. S-t-r-e-t-c-h it. I know he is a friend, and I know he was enjoying the
rap, but he was busy running up my long distance bill, just to fuck with me, just for the
hell of it. Gotta' admire it. I also had two Yukon Jack® buckets. And KC likes Yukies,
also. He likes goat piss if it will get him altered, and if a friend is offering it, free.
Hell, K.C. would drink with Osama bin Hidin', if the Hidin' guy was paying for it.
So we are having Yukies and watching tube and
rapping, and K.C. spills a Yukie right on my "Guest Remote". Kills it.
"Gee, sorry, Bill?" And then (maybe not the same night) he breaks my guest Yukon
Jack® bucket in my kitchen sink. "Gee, sorry, Bill?" How the hell did he break
that glass bucket?
I just dropped the survivor, full of ice, on a hard kitchen
floor, and it didn't break. My server is busy right now, so I wrote this. I think I will
call The Goose and see if K.C. is there, and buy him a pitcher or a bottle of wine
(they have no hootch, but they take debit cards now) and ask how the hell he broke that Yukie
bucket - luvyerfriendbill
FACTOID: One of Napoleon's drinking cups
was made from the skull of the famous Italian adventurer Cagliostro.
Seen Bill#4 or Bill#5 or
Bill#6 yet?
or Wild Life, Unusual Oregon?
© 2003 R K Puma rk@rkpuma.com
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