Whiling away at the Want-n-While... Thursday

Monopoly resumed. Professor Plonk piled up particularly profitable properties pushing past Paulie on the leader board. Vino finally povertied-out but continued to contribute, playing banker and inciting brief thoughts of assassination methods by singing, "Mini-wheats-wheats-wheats, la-la-la-la-la-la-la!" at just the right intervals. Held over the match again.

Paulie-wog and Chili dog swam of course, and even convinced Plonk and I to join in. While standing at the side of the dock I felt a pinch on my belly and felt some large branch-like structure rubbing against me. I thought it some kind of watery vegetation until I instinctively brushed it away from me and discovered with abject horror that it was the most ungodly gigantic spider I ever saw in my life. It probably had the leg span of a tarantula but not with such a tall fuzzy build. It was thin and flat with legs each like a pair of finishing nails. It's grotesque body was made bigger by the large egg sack it was carrying. Just seconds after landing on the water I saw a small fish zooming up toward it. It took a bite at the beast and appeared to connect but not fatally as the spider took off and scurried toward shore.

"Take that, beotch!" I cried gleefully. "My fish homies done got my back!"

On the beach Professor Plonk was patiently prowling and punished the pest, pounding him to death with his sandal.

That night, after supper - and an afternoon of much drinking, the prof produced a pack of premium single-malts and we four engaged in a proper nosing. No, we're not Eskimos. A scotch-tasting is officially called a nosing. Unless someone's just told me that in order to make an ass of me. In which case - mission accomplished.

Plonk and I quite enjoyed the event. Paulie did so profusely. Vino - well – it depends how you interpret the Calvin faces he was making..."Apparently I'm not so big on scutch," he confessed.

"Did you just say scunch?"

"Quite porshibly. And - I think I might have also said porshibly."

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