I'm going to be in Erie for two weeks taking courses in forensic anthropology.
When I grow up want to be Indiana Jones + Lara Croft + Teddy Hall.
For now I am just a wanderer. My mom calls me her "little gypsy child". There's a cross-country road trip coming up later in the summer. How exciting.
But sometimes I get a little tired of all the moving. I suppose it does keep things interesting.
When I grow up want to be Indiana Jones + Lara Croft + Teddy Hall.
For now I am just a wanderer. My mom calls me her "little gypsy child". There's a cross-country road trip coming up later in the summer. How exciting.
But sometimes I get a little tired of all the moving. I suppose it does keep things interesting.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
We used the hairspray when we were low on lighter fluid reserves, rationing our more destructive munitions if, heaven forbid, we were caught unawares. This happened once as we slowly crept through the overgrown blades of grass. Ben had point while I followed close behind. Tim took up the rear and stared into the darkness with his beady eyes.
We were supplied with fresh cans out of Ben's large Aqua Velva stockpile, our BICs readied. Ben must have heard something, maybe it was a snapping branch. Maybe it was Charlie. Whatever it was, he turned to face me, and there was an exchange of confused glances. The confusion shifted to horror as we both realized that there was an orb-weaver crawling along Ben's shoulder. He was frozen, stunned. He paled almost enough to illuminate that immediate area, the faint glimmer of cobwebs all around us peeking through the black of night.
We were surrounded.
I was the first to react and hoisted my jumbo sized can of AV up in front of me, ready to lay down suppressive fire. The BIC was lit, the lever on the spray can depressed. Nothing. I swore loud enough to ensure that our position was given away. I pressed the lever again. Nothing. Before I could announce the malfunction, Tim took aim and attempted to activate his can of AV. Again, nothing.
"We got bullshit munitions, Sarge," I shouted.
"I think this is lighter-proof?" Tim yelped.
"Why are you fucking aiming those cans at my face?" Ben asked as he flailed at the spider, which crept even closer to his vulnerable neck.
"Oh! Sorry," I said and lowered my can while Tim continued to flick his BIC with no results. "We're pinned down, Sarge. Should I call in the air support?"
"Just get this fucking spider off me, please."
From my belt I pulled out the steel wool and a line. I secured the line, lit the steel wool, and swung it above my head as fast as possible. Erratic sparks kicked out into the night, some landing in Tim's hair. The webs around us withered in the heat. The neighbors' security lights came on in their backyards.
After what seemed like an eternity, the chaos settled and the flames were extinguished. The zone was clear with no enemy in site. We all settled down on our haunches and let out a collective sigh.
I lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. "Okay boys, let's take some time to recover, recoup, and reconnoiter. Tim, you take first watch."
"How the fuck did they manage to make non-flammable Aqua Velva?" Tim asked.
"I don't want my hair catching on fire," Ben replied as he glared at us. "Well, at least my hair."