Cementland

It was early Wednesday evening and there were many burros on the strip. Of course there were, it felt like summer. Got ready and strolled along the fenceline behind the blocks. Even though I entered familiar territory, it seemed like I had entered a football game. Men in buckets, a dozen deep, sulked about on the shore. Where am I, I pondered, there were no familiar faces. Just then, with the help of a magical rope, a cowboy jumped on his planche and immediately did a violent faceplant into the shallows. The board was dragging behind, but his face rested beneath the water, a real nice flogging. This behaviour continued for another 45 seconds, when he finally let go of the rope and drifted helplessly into a ragged, rock ledge. Some severely bruised ribs and a damaged board later, he decided to stop.

Logged for a couple hours.
Yeah, river surfing is a hoot.

And now I`m off to buy a Pepsi.

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One Response to “Cementland”

  1. l'anglais Says:

    once again…Junior tells it like it is.

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