So, getting back to the story, Barnaby and I had just beached our pirated boat somewhere's in Rhode Island and we were doing our best to put as many tracks as we could 'tween that ship and ourselves. We managed to thumb a ride with an elderly couple who were on their way from a day at the beach back to Foxwoods. Thank god for them folks. Now, I ain't none too sure about the Pequot tribe who stakes the claim to Foxwoods, but I will say that the buffet that Barnaby and I snuck into was as close to heaven I've been since my youth on the plains. I ate damn near my own weight in chicken nuggets. Sure enough though, some security guard sees me take a swig outta me hip flask and he comes an asks us for our meal ticket. After we got kicked out, we started making our way along the highway, the direction we hoped led home. The trail wasn't none too smooth for us, but I'll fill ya in t'morrow, an old man needs some rest.

So, Barnaby and I had just taken off into the sunset in some asshole's boat so to speak, and, figuring on my mind's picture of the land, I guessed we were either headed to Connecticut, or Rhode Island. The question facing us now was what do we do when we get there? Barnaby and I figured that, even though we could see lanterns twinkling on the other side of the drink, it'd be in our best interests to make tracks north, so's to get closer to home and to throw off the law who'd be waiting for us on the other side. Lucky for us, Barnaby discovered a cooler on the boat, stocked with enough beer to tide us over for as long's we pleased. Judging by the sun, I figured we had at least two more hours daylight to travel, 'fore we started running the risk of ramming something or other. So, we just kicked back, took turns at the helm, and did our best to polish off the brew. Well, a couple hours and who knows how many miles later and I notice, despite my increasing carelessness that the ship's fuel gauge was startin' to look low. I said something to Barnaby, but he was face down in a puddle drunk off his ass. So I took it into my own hands to steer us West, toward shore. I cranked the wheel and 'fore long saw the beach front growing in front a me. I was so damn drunk that by the time I reached the shore, I nearly killed some bathers ramming the boat up on shore at full speed. Steering wheel gave me a bloody lip to boot. I looked around and saw that we'd landed on a public beach, crawlin' with tourists like ants on a log. Barnaby was laying on the deck all wide-eyed, not knowing a damn thing 'bout what was goin' on so I just grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the boat and started making it fast up the beach and onto the street. A sign advertising the best crab legs in the state told me we were in Rhode Island territory. Made no difference for me, I just wanted to put as much distance 'tween me and that boat as I could 'fore the authorities put two and two together. That's all for this post, my bowels are callin' me.

Well, earlier I'd been tellin' ya how I got the idea in my head to try'n nab this fuckin' busybody's boat right from behind his back. Well, the asshole is hassling our friend Paco 'bout the smell of grass on him, and I'm makin' faces at Barnaby trying to put some fire in his britches. Well Barnaby was standin' there lookin' like an Apache in a Blackfoot camp, so I figured if someone was gonna do something, it'd have to be old Josh. I glanced over at that asshole who was still belly achin' at Paco. Can't say I didn't feel a little guilty 'bout leavin' behind our new friend but he had kin in those parts, he weren't bout to jump ship and steam off with us. So, with an apologetic glance at Paco I flopped my sorry ass into the water and just started swimming. A giant splash like a buffalo crossing a river let me know Barnaby was right on my coattails. That asshole on shore didn't seem to get what we were up to because he started yelling to us to come back and talk, but when I hoisted myself up the ladder, and Barnaby after me, he wasted little time in diving back into the water and swimming at us like a dog after a shot duck. Took me a minute to find the lever to make the boat go, but boy did that thing ever take off when I did. That there motor was so loud I couldn't ever hear that pussy screaming about the police and whatnot over the rumble. So, like that, Barnaby and I were off, with no wheres to go to.

So, couple of posts ago I was just telling you about how I was just throwing up in the woods near the beach on LI. Well, I finished losing my lunch and Paco suggested we make our way back to the beach to do some more fishing before the sun set for good. We got down to the beach and Paco lights up another doobie and we're just starting to have a good old fashioned time when we see a boat making a beeline straight for our spot on the sand. Paco had just put out his stogie and stashed it in his underpants when the same asshole who tried to scare us off earlier pulls up in his big noisy fuckin' boat. He throws his anchor in the water, takes off his stupid hawaiian shirt and does a little fairy dive into the water and paddles his way over to us. Well this feller gets out of the water and doesn't take no time to dry before he starts hootin' and hollerin' about how he asked us to leave politely and how we show no respect for the paying members of the community and a whole load of pig shit. Then he starts sniffin' the air, talkin' bout smellin' reefers. Well while his back is turned talkin' to Paco, I look over at Barnaby and point at the boat, trying to signal my intentions. Barnaby's watery eyes got all big and scared but I just shrugged my shoulders at 'im, 'sif to say "What do we got to lose?" That's all I got in me for now, so's you folks 'll have to wait til I get some more drink in me for the rest of the story.

Now, I'll get back to my story next post, but now I got to take a minute to talk about somethin' that's been irking my cobblers for some time now. What the fuck is up with all these filthy expensive fancy shmancy automobiles with the stinkin' blue headlights that make me go blind every time they wiz by. Those motherfuckers'll put a sunburn on a Navajo! Jesus Abraham and Joseph, where do you think you are, a mine shaft?? Those god damn headlights put a glow on shit you couldn't see without a looking glass. Fucking yuppies and their concerns about personal safety make me want to puke. Yeah, great, make everyone who's lookin' the wrong way go blind so you can see a pot hole that's four hundred yards away. I'm making it my personal duty to pry the radio outta every car I see with them stinkin' headlights.

So I was just telling bout how I stuck Barnaby in the ear with that old spine fish. Well I finally got my cackles in order and I look up and there's a coupla nice dressed people walking over lookin' like they didn't mean no good. One of em, a balding yuppy in a collar and khakis says, "THIS, BEACH, PRIVATE! DEJAME EN PAZ!"
"Hey easy there, partner," I says to him, "We're all english speakers here."
"Well I'm sorry, but this is a private community, all of our members pay to keep this beach maintained. If you don't leave I'm calling the police." I was about to start to pick a bone with this youngun, but Paco said, "Yes, yes, we're leaving." He starts packing up his pole and I'm grumbling 'bout damn folks thinkin' they can own everything and Paco whispers to me that we'll just leave and come back in half an hour when these asshole's are gone. So we leave and make our way to some woods behind a school and Paco pulls out a bag of that tea that those Mexicans love so much and rolls up a nice cigarette and we all had a smoke. My belly was already full of wine and all that grass sent me for a ride I'll tell ya. Well Barnaby pulls out a pouch of chaw and we all throw a lip and it wasn't ten minutes before I was tossing my cookies all over the nearest bush. Maybe that'll teach me to stick to my fire water. Speaking of which, I'm feeling as sober as I ever want to be, so I'll be back in a few after I get me a bottle of granddaddy's old cough tonic.

Back and liquored up. Now where was I? Ah yeah, so Barnaby, Paco and I turned tail and ran to get out of that neighborhood fast's we could before that bitch with the hose called the law. Finally we pass another sign with a big gay dolphin on it that says, "Sunset Bluff, A Private Community." We eased up our gait, figurin' we were out of harms way. Finally we get to the big old staircase that leads down to the beach and we get on the sand and soak in the smells of the seaweed and dead crabs. Paco put together his rod and skewered one of them worms and we took turns casting. It was my turn and I feel a tug on my line and start reeling in my line like it was the devil on my hook. Well I ground the sucker and its just a useless sea robin flapping around like a greased hog, and being a little greased up, I take the thing and slap Barnaby across his fat bald head. Now it wasn't my intention but one of them spines went straight through Barnaby's ear, and he starts hollering and belly achin' and bleeding all over in general. Paco's tellin' him to calm down before we call attention to ourselves and I just fell on the ground laughing til I coughed up blood. Well I'm going to go catch some z's under a tree somewhere, but I don't need to tell you that the fun didn't last for long, but you'll have to wait til the morrow for the rest.