Down in the Pits of the Kenai Peninsula

Today we’ll be visiting a True Success Story, Alaska-Style, when our travel blog will be taking us close to, but not equal than Homer Alaska, locally known as “The Pits.” Here we will be speaking with Robert Fettgans who single-handedly has transformed the otherwise barren Quaternary Gravels into an Oasis of….

Lola rolled over onto her stomach and tried to reach the bowl of Moose Chips, while she wondered if there really was intelligent life on that planet called TV, which so many people seemed to be enthralled with, or were simply just glued to each and every fact and figure that ever graced the-

“Stop those thoughts right there Missy” said a voice whose own figure showed what eating Moose Chips throughout the winter months, combined with an occasional Maple Bar from the Moose is Loose Bakery will do to an otherwise fine form of a man! “Just look at these spread-sheets and tell me what a lucky girl you are having found me on Planet Penguin, all those years ago!”

“Tell me Robert, Just what made you decide to grow Avocados in Alaska Anyway?” Robert just waddled over to the microphone and said, “I’ve always known that life in, near to and around Homer Alaska was the pits, so what better place to use that knowledge than right here?” said while pointing with his left flipper-like appendage to the rows and rows of green, leafy perfection. I could tell by the look of Bob and his roundish form that he enjoyed the good life here in Alaska, but then not all of us are “blessed” with a perfect body in this life, are we?

“I think” said B, with a look of silent, almost deaf-like intelligence “that this year’s crop of cabbages will exceed last years with.”…calculating on his slide-rule, then running the numbers into the abacus, before saying, “Where was I?” said before waddling over to the Moose Chips-

-with Lola saying, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of those? You are starting to look suspiciously like that Bloke on TV, Mr Fettgans!”

“Well then Robert….May I call you Bob?” asked the reporter Hell Bently while Robert just reached up to pick an Avocado saying “I’d rather you not. I try to keep things on the business-like level, if you know what I mean?”

“Gosh Lola. Maybe we should go out and get some exercise together, huh?”

-with Lola replying, “Are you inferring that I?”…admiring the work of perfection that made men weep at the sight of, while others just dared dream of having a true “Woman” like that by their side in life!

“Well, yes and no, depending on which one would make you less mad than the other, that is!”

“Is there a Mrs Fettgans to share the glory with you Robert. You know, someone who stood by your side all those years and encouraged you, telling you that your dream was a valid one, then when success finally found you, she was there to help you reap the bounty that comes with a successful business venue and its accolades!”

“Just look at the image of the both of us in the mirror” said Lola while they tried to determine the distance needed for the both of them to “fit” without having to leave the TV-room and…..

“How about here, my Love” yelled B. from the kitchen, where he was considering making an avocado and butter sandwich, with just a dash of sea salt on top.

Lola would have answered him, but suddenly on TV, she thought she recognized someone, or something that she had seen before?

Robert looked thoughtfully after the last question, then answered, “Well there was one woman in my life. One that had inspired me, nurtured me, then finally told me to pursue my dreams, wherever they led me! Alas, L. is not with me today, but I still harbor the most loving and cherished thoughts that…..”

Lola started to yell, “He, that, I….HEY!…You’d better come back in here and tell me that I am not going crazy, and that means NOW!”

B. had just about gotten that darned pit out of the Avocado bearing the name, “Fettgans” when a yell came from his Better Half.

“Coming My Love” he said, while the Avocado Pit rolled away under his feet, finally coming to a rest near to, but not completely upon the map of Homer. That would be Homer Alaska, which was inadvertently lying upon the floor at precisely that moment when….

-but Lola asked, “Was the pit lying on Homer, or a map of Homer?” which seemed to be a prudent thing to ask, seeing as how this blog was increasing in difficulty just getting the final words in, before sitting back and taking a sip of coffee, before considering what else could be accomplished on the day at hand?

“I saw” said Lola,

-while the credits rolled on the TV screen, with the producers thanking R. Fettgans and his Muse for their participation in the program, which will most assuredly inspire future farmers to follow Robert’s leadership and entrepreneurship!

“Was it a vision of an avocado and butter sandwich?” asked B. as he delivered it directly to her, as she just sat there, mouth open wide, with a look of fading astonishment on her face.

“Oops” he said at the end of this blog, “Almost forgot the salt!….”

“Now, I know what to do” I said to myself. “There are avocados in the kitchen, so…..


All I Said, was Chocolate, when She

They say that certain smells can be felt as well as, well….

I was in the kitchen that fine Autumn Day in Alaska when…… but I digress a bit. It might actually have started the week before when I was doing the weekly shopping in Anchor Point when a lone person stood on the street corner with a sign around his neck,”Chocolate was invented by the Devil!” Now I wouldn’t want to go and tempt fate, but there was some chocolate in my grocery bag, but I just chose not to look him in the eyes as I passed on by. I had just about made my way around the corner when he said, “Have you also been tempted, Brother?”

All week long since that moment, I’ve thought about that tortured soul, pining away in the heat of the Alaskan October sun, while the rest of us had our own lustful thoughts of baking cakes and whatnot in the hope that would lead our better halves towards the thoughts of other lustful endeavors? I would only admit to myself, but not aloud for fear that others nearby would sense my anguish and doubt at what I was about to do…..

She was tricky, I’ll give her that much. She had her ways and means, but I thought time and again, I’d be able to circumvent the inevitable, but we all have our fantasies, don’t we? When she was out and about, I’d mixed all of the ingredients and placed them in airtight containers, while reading on the Internet about the success rate of baking cakes in an outdoor environment. I held my foil-covered oven and carefully measured the heat rise, hoping that with time, it would attain 350 degrees Fahrenheit, thus easing my troubles of having to use a more conventional oven, with the smells trapped inside the house, giving others the impression that something was going on, something wondrous…

Outside the sound of gunfire brought me back to reality. Not the usual single shot, trying to scare off the odd white rabbit, but a volley of shots that conjured images of chocolate cakes being thrown into the air as if they were clay pigeons, exploding then raining down on my position, while I strove to explain where they had come from in the first place!

Lola came into the house, her gun slung over her shoulder with that “kick me, kiss me” look on her face. “Sometimes” she said, as I noticed how the gun was still smoking “Sometimes, It’s better to shoot first, then ask questions later, like “”Where are hiding it, and why haven’t you told me about it?” then just blowing the smoke aside, while looking me straight in the eyes.

“Did you get the Caribou Snacks? How about the Moose Chips? Let me see now, Tundra Tea – check, Oh. I see you’ve bought some new smokes, Mt Semisopochnoi, I’ve heard about its Yellow advisory, and

Lola was just checking out the weekly stash of groceries, while I still harbored thoughts of making chocolate cake.

The oven with its sweetness, baking outside around the back, behind the Caribou Pen, with my tracks covered by that Sitka Spruce branch that wiped clean any and all trace of my having been there. Then the erection of that fence, with “No Trespassing” written on it. The hastily-dug stream bed diversion, the trees cut with the trail leading away from the place where all my hopes dwelled…

Lola placed her gun on the kitchen counter, and sniffed here, sniffing there.

“I really don’t see anything having to do with Sugar! What are we going to enjoy, later on this evening, while we are relaxing in the comfort of our fine home, enjoying a smoke of the Good Stuff from Southern Alaska, while you regale me with, what you’ve been trying to hide from your one and only?”

Like I said, It wasn’t easy keeping secrets from Lola, and perhaps better men than me have tried to do so in the past, but then there are a lot of crosses in the old Cemetery on the hill, aren’t there?

“Invented by the Devil” isn’t that what he said?…..

Once Upon a Time, When

Once upon a time, when things were different than today, a young maiden lived on the Plains of the Kenai, waiting with bated breath for the man of her dreams to pass by, sweeping her off her feet with nothing less than a whisper of the lovemaking to come, while thanking the gods above for this blessing that had no equal.

The young maiden, or Lola, as her magical animals knew her by, lived in a modest cottage along the Kenai River, which provided her with all the essentials to her simple, yet nourishing lifestyle. Fish abounded in the stream, but she only harvested them when she claimed to the outside world as being a pescetarian. Her magical animals, Lon, Lex and Louie thought that to be a strange, yet funny name for someone who by all rights and intentions, resembled a Vegan, but actually ate fish when she had the..

“Lola. Why is this blog beginning to resemble those suggestions that WordPress suggests in their Reader App? If I were a betting man, I’d say that Lon, Lex and Louie were most likely monkeys, but we know them to be giraffes, or weren’t they only that once before?”

Lola had heard strange voices in her head, but the three magical Giraffes only whispered to her, “This is your realm, Princess, and you are the one who decides! If one day you wish us to be Monkeys, then we will be monkeys! If on another day, you wish us to

“Well” she said rather impatiently. “When are you going to continue?”

Time flowed between them, deceiving her in such a way that made it impossible to know that at least 6 hours had gone by from that unfinished paragraph to the exciting conclusion, as yet unknown, but continuing below!

“Why we could be

“Oh Miss Lola” said Lon, as he licked the right toenail of his left paw, “how are we ever going to cross the magical bridge, not knowing the password left to you by your Canadian Uncle Monty Real, who

“Wait a minute you! Why would Lon lick the toenail of his left paw, when he is supposed to be a Giraffe? Giraffes don’t have paws, they have, well, I mean,”

Lola was at a for loss of words, but that didn’t stop Lex and Louie from galloping around in a circle, neighing and whinnying as if the whole of the US Army was after them! Louie said, “Why don’t we

“Stop right there, Mr Storyteller! Now, they have become horses in the lower 48, which is as Un-Alaska as you can get! I demand that you stop this sideline, and return to where this story of lust and desire in the afternoon was heading towards – moving the strap from her dress down a bit from her shoulder – but got lost in your Animal Cracker Soup along the way!”

The woodsman. A man of great strength and stamina, was out on the Plains of the Kenai, wielding his Ax through the Golden Fields of Alberta Wheat! He turned to her in Alaska, after having crossed the magical bridge, carefully guarded by the magical Giraffe with their terrifying toenailed paws! He knew he had to say the three magic words, that her father, the king of Soldotna had whispered to him, while hinting to him about taking his daughter, Please!

The first word that he uttered was, Homer, who was the man who made him the man he was today, but not the man who he would become tomorrow! The second word was Al, but he wasn’t sure if that was Al, or his older brother Aska, who said, I…

Lola, the forest maiden, sat on the sidelines of the story, filing her nails and considering a non-smoke, perhaps a Kilimanjaro, with one of the giraffes. Lon said “If you fly away with me on my magic carpet, we can make fabulous giraffe-love together!” Lola was not into Giraffe-Sex, but at this point in the blog, circumstance made her consider turning into a Giraffe herself, thus completing the circle of what Wild Animals do on the Plains of the Kenai!

The third magic word was…”Gosh Lola. If you are going away with Lon, Lex and Louie, who am I going to finish this magical story with, carrying away the Maiden Princess to her fabulous den of pain and pleasure?”

Lola just whispered in his ear, “The third word is 800 which if we are in any way lucky today, will seal the fate of this blog and set us free to be together forever!

Lon, Lex and Louie were still standing on the edge of the story, feeling rather cross about being cheated out of Giraffe-Sex on the Plains of the Kenai, when Lola said, “You have just 9-words to seduce me, before……

– “before this blog goes into overtime” finished B. as he swept her into his arms and carried her off to, to her den of pain and pleasure…..

Lon said, “I told you, we needed to petition a higher source, about extending the blog over the 800-word mark!”

Lex and Louie just whinnied and said, “Let’s meet over at the watering trough and discuss our options!”- so the three horses trundled off the paper into …….

I’d go with the White Rabbit Theme, myself

This is the story of one man and his fight with the elements. A man in the Last Frontier, not like any other man, neither before, nor after when you consider, or if you don’t consider what that really means!

“Gosh Lola. Someone is really writing some classy literature on the back of cereal boxes these days! Why I remember when I was younger, and the only thing we got to read about was how eating Oats from Alberta would make you grow up into a strong and well-liked Canadian, who could swim the North Saskatchewan River in a single flap of your flippers!”

Lola had hoped that his Cheshire Penguin Smile would fade in time, but he seemed determined to keep the memory of Bob the Penguin alive as long as possible!

“Why in the world did you buy that kind of cereal?” she asked as she read the name on the box, “White Rabbit Weedies” – The Breakfast of Champignons! “Honestly” said Lola while sporting her classic Sneer, “A breakfast cereal made from mushrooms? What will they think of next?”

He just continued to read the back of the box, while saying “Lola. My Love. It was not just for the anti-oxidant qualities of the mushrooms, but because of this here!” said while pointing to a “Look Here” bubble on the front of the box telling about 56 free Tattoo stickers -try before you buy!”

“Are we really going down that road again?” asked Lola as she considered her own classic tattoo, a 30-30 Winchester, the epitome of the Old West!

“Gosh Lola. I’ve thought about this decision for as long as this particular blog has existed, and you know something?” waiting for her to shake her pretty head, then giving her hair her trademark, “swirl” before she would be saying,

“And stop fantasizing about my hair, Got it?”

“You know what Lola?” but not waiting for her reply this time, he went on saying, “This is almost like the first time we met each other. You were just sitting there on that street corner, wearing your white rabbit socks, while I rode by on my-

“Are we talking skateboards here, or was it a white stallion, which reared its head back, throwing you off into my arms?” said Lola, completing his story with one of her own, while she looked up the nearest Tattoo Parlor in Homer where he finally could get the deed done!

“Lola” he said, sweeping her hand away from her cell phone, then taking her into his arms, looking deeply into her eyes, then saying, “I thought of patronizing the new Tattoo Place in town, “Robert Fettgans Presents – Marking you for life“, located just Off Broadway near that little theater where you were auditioning for that new play, “Penguins of the Cook Inlet.”

“I was just a fancy passing by, while you sat there, on that street corner on that theatrical stage saying, “If only a Real Alaskan Man sporting the Right Tattoo on or about his Puny Muscle would ride on by me right now, I might just consider sharing a Avocado-flavored Malt and a plate of Penguin Fries at the nearby Drugstore in Homer….Alaska!”

“So” said Lola slowly, “Are you going with the Fat Goose Tattoo, or…..?”

“Let’s not rush into a poorly-thought out decision” he said, while looking over the sheet of tattoo stickers, wondering if there was one with “Healy, or Homer” among the other choices.

“Are you really going to get a tattoo this time, or was it just an idea to glean more readers to this blog, which is lacking any redeeming value or long-lasting qualities!”

“You know what? Those were some of the first things you asked me when we were sharing that Avocado-flavored Malt in Homer. You asked me, Do you possess long-lasting qualities? Which I interpreted as meaning, “Did I, I mean, could I, well, you know perform as good as you thought/hoped I could?”

Lola just looked up at him, while considering his last spoken lines, thinking that they might just be able to make Beautiful Theater together? She crossed her legs while inching her white rabbit socks just a millimeter closer to his puny muscle saying, “I

“Well” said Lola impatiently “What were those two really up to?”- In that deserted Theater, off the beaten-track of Homer Alaska, with her vulnerability just starting to show, as he reached over to kiss her waiting lips for the first time!

After that kiss, that might just win him that Oscar at the annual Award Ceremony at Homer High School’s Homecoming Party, she replied, “Are you sporting the Tattoo of a Real Alaskan Man under your Imitation Grizzly Bear Tunic, or is that only a dream that you’ve had during the length of this present blog?”

-crunching heard as he pushed the cereal box aside, saying-

“Gosh Lola. It says here that Fettgans is another word for Penguin!”

“Funny coincidence, huh?”

While Standing on His Soapbox

“Tell me what you can see?” A simple question for a simple thinker.

Lola was getting rather ticked off with numerous mentions of Alberta, Canada, and-

“Uh Lola. This is almost as exciting as when you say Alaska!”

Lola was getting rather tired, when the man who chose to occupy at least 45% of their bed at night, continually referred to another place on God’s Green Earth, and that not being where they called home!

“Now look in this direction, won’t you?” Lola had turned up her charm and patience to a level that most assuredly would get her through this blog, but she had been wrong about that kind of thing before.

“What do you see?”

He squinted, then held his hand such that it shaded his sight. His utter silence was only broken by the lonesome call of the Canadian Geese, who were winging their way overhead, bound for-

“I see…..Alaska!”

Lola just beamed and breathed a sigh of relief, before continuing. “And when you stand up on this soapbox, what then catches your eye?”

-placing a soapbox procured from the Soldotna Soap Box Company of Kenai Alaska, next to his feet, then directing him thus….-

“Gosh Lola. If only you could see what I’m seeing up here! It’s just magical!” said by the man who began to wave and yell at the top of his lungs, “I’ll tell her so, Sure as shooting!”

“Who in Homer’s name were you yelling to up there?” asked Lola as she craned her neck in a Cantilever fashion, but couldn’t see more than the hairs on the back of his neck. “Haven’t I told you before to shave your neck?”

“Some women like their men to have a certain amount of hair on their bodies, so they can run their fingers through it when they are, well in the process of, in case the moment presents itself and they give way to, well, you know?”

“Look you. Forget those hair follicles right at the moment and tell me who you were waving to?”

“Well, it was your mother, and she was excited seeing me so high up over Homer….You know Homer Al-

“Don’t start with me! I know where my mother lives, but I can’t understand how you and she can see each other, when you just are standing on….Get out of my way” she said, pushing him off his throne and assuming an air of Royalty with her scepter and her royal imitation grizzly bear robes, saying “Uh. I can only see that largish telephone mast shaped like a Sitka Spruce!”

Queen Lola of the Alaskans displaying her fine form

“Gosh Lola. You sure have found your sexiest photos to grace our humble blog with!

B. climbed up next to her, standing relatively close to, but not entirely on top of which made her mother scream at the suggestion that they were really, uh well, they actually were close enough to, but only if you had a vivid imagination, but “Won’t somebody call the police and report something!”

Lola’s cellphone began to ring……”Hello. Yes this is Lola. No she/I am not some floozy who consorts with men in broad daylight, when their mother is watching….No Mom, we are not, well you know, not at this exact moment, that is, and if you didn’t know that by now, some might say that…No we are just extremely close to each other’s way of thinking, that’s all!”

“Gosh Lola. It’s really special being up here with you right now! Maybe we could do this more often, you know set up a table with some chairs, and eat our Moose Chips out here, while we are drinking Edmonton Chablis, or, or

“And how far do you think it is from the ground to where my foot is hovering so close to your most private area?”

He stepped off the box and ran back into the house. Lola just stood there ans sighed thinking how she just wanted him to see that it wasn’t possible seeing Alberta from that soapbox, but the way that this blog was progressing, she knew in her heart that, that-

“Here it is Lola. My Official Meter Stick, Old Edmonton, as my dad used to call it! Now let’s see, if I was way up yonder, where you are now, then moving the stick way down, where I am right now then, then….Uh Lola. Why are we outside concentrating all of our energy on this soapbox anyway? Are you ready to give a speech or something? I’m all ears!”

He sat down on the ground and looked admiringly up at the woman whose prowess and sex-appeal was known far and wide on the Kenai Peninsula, and if you were lucky, and stood next to her on that soapbox, then you too might experience her majesty, closer at hand…..

Lola just looked down into his large, trusting eyes, then told him, “Before I forget, my mother sends her regards, and if you are game, then take this soapbox under your arm, after I’ve descended that is, and meet me in the bedroom for a continuation of my speech!”

“And remember to tell me again about my prowess and sex-appeal, and then we can do all those things that my mother already has accused us of doing……

“Out in the great outdoors of Alas…… ka!”

“Gosh Lola. Then you can try out my neck hairs again, huh?”

Alaskan Volcanoes 101

Alaskan Volcanoes 101 is the latest pyroclastic blast presented by Homer University. Learn about the aspects and implications of living and breathing possible Hydrogen sulfide in your local neighborhood, as well as fixing those nasty ceiling cracks caused by….

“Now Class. I’d like to begin today’s lesson about Explosive Events in our local area. Are there any questions, before we begin?”

“Hey Teach. If we are good today, are you going to take us out for a Moose Malt at the Volcano Cafe, like you promised last time?”

“Tristan. My name is Lola, and I’d like you to address me as that. Last time, as you might recall, we were just about to visit the Volcano Cafe, when one of the class decided to emit unpleasant gasses, causing an immediate evacuation of the premises!”

Tristan turned to Barney saying, “Hey Man. That Hydrogen sulfide from the old Fumerole can be rather smelly, right?” The two Vision Moose gave each other a High-Five Mooser, while B. only said, “And I couldn’t wait until we were all eating Moose Fries and shooting straw-wrappers at the teacher and all!”

“Boys. Boys” said Lola, as she looked into their faces, expecting the light of knowledge to shine upon them, almost like a Nuée ardente, (French: “glowing cloud”) Wikipedia, would be-

B. speaking again, “But Ms Lola. Now they say, “Pyroclastic Flow” instead!”

The other boys just looked at each other whispering, “Teacher’s Moose, that one!”

Clearing her throat, then shuffling her papers, she tried to steer the class back on track once again.

“Now. Have you all done your homework assignment, “My favorite Alaskan Volcano?”

Nodding heads and moving of chairs, while one of them remarked, “Hey Teach. When is the break coming up? I’ve got a new issue of Moose Girl’s Monthly to show the other boys!”

“Tristan” began Lola again. “That magazine is most likely disrespectful to Moose Girls everywhere, but if you only read the articles, instead of ogling the photos, then I guess it’ll be all right. All right class, 5-minute break before presenting your papers.”

Howie was trying to “bum” a non-smoke from one of the others, when B. remarked, “Howie. Don’t you know that not smoking cigarettes won’t stunt your growth?”

Tristan and Barney just had a laugh on his expense, while ogling the fine Moose Girl’s Monthly. This month’s issue featured a gal named, Moosette sporting a Volcano E-cigarette dangling out of her-

“Hey Tris” remarked Barney as his legs dangled over the edge of the table, “Isn’t that the same Gal who you romanced before? Just look how far she’s gotten!”

Tristan held up the text to study the grammar a bit closer. “Right on Dude! That’s her all right, and look at this Moose Mole right her behind her left front fetlock! Not everyone will have seen that one, eh?”

“Well” said Barney. “You were closer to her than the rest of us, weren’t you?”

“Boys. Time is up! Howie! Take that non-smoke out of your mouth and get back inside!”

The boys trudged back into the classroom, wondering about what it was like to appear in such a prestigious magazine, with its good grammar and excellent angles of the language at hand!

“All right” said Lola. “Who is first?”

B. raised his hand, then moved to the front of the class, while Tristan and Barney made obscene Moose signals, then hid their snouts behind their fetlocks!

“Boys. Behave yourselves” said Lola, as she fixed her hair using the mirror on the wall, then gave it a classic “swirl” before-

“Ahem” said B. while shuffling his papers. “The Mount Meager massif is part of the Garibaldi Volcanic Belt (GVB), the northernmost segment of the Cascade Volcanic Arc (

“Hey Dude” said Tristan to Barney. “Why is B. still harping over Canadian Volcanoes? Is it because of that Gal from Alberta, or something?”

Lola stopped swirling her hair as well, storming over to B., at least that is what stood on his name card on the table.

“Young man. Haven’t I warned you before about introducing foreign Stratovolcanoes to this class? We are only concerned with American Stratovolcanoes of the Alaskan Type!”

“Hear, Hear” yelled Barney and Tristan in unison, while Howie only wondered if they were going to be cheated out of those Moose Fries and Malts again this time?

“Gosh Teach, I mean, Lola. If you just dropped your boundaries a bit, then you’d see that the Cascadia Subduction Zone runs almost all the way to Alaska! We are more or less neighbors with those British Columbians!”

The other boys buried their snouts down in their books, while plugging their Moose-Pods into their ears. This discussion might take a while, they thought?

“You were the one who wanted this “Fantasy Sequence” to occupy space during our limited blog-time, which makes me wonder why we are discussing Canadians again? Do you have a secret volcano wish with Ms Alberta?”

“Lola. I’ve never even met the woman. If I said, my favorite Stratovolcano was Mt Redoubt, would that help us move on with this blog?”

Lola considered the blog-meter ticking far over the 800-word mark, then saying, “The title of this sequence is Alaskan Volcanoes 101. Not neighboring Stratovolcanoes and their Subduction Zones, and certainly not the placid plains of the Edmonton Area! Now I want you to choose which Volcano you will be accompanying to the Volcano Cafe: Her, or Moi?!”

“Wow, Lola. And in French and all. I’d have to be a real Moose-Head not to choose you, you know? Come on Fellows! Let’s hit the old Cafe, The Moose Fries are on me!”


Tristan says, “Yes, and the Moose Malts will be on, and all over you as well, unless you understand Lola’s grammar a bit better, than you have, this time………

File:Cascadia subduction zone USGS.png

Then his muscle flexed, and

Today ladies and gentlemen, the Grand Championship of sheer, brute force! Our contestants, or better said, combatants, will be flexing their muscles in this year’s “Opening the Lid on the old Mayonnaise Jar Competition – no holds barred!

The crowds are going wild in the otherwise quiet town of..thumbing through Google Maps in search of…Kasilof,…… carefully chosen for this event, seeing as how it never has been used in a blog of this caliber before!

Lola had just about lost it while trying to redeem her ticket for the day’s event, with the ticket-taker insisting that they knew each other from their younger days in Edmonton Canada, with Lola saying “Look you. I am an Alaskan through and through, and not somebody from that country over yonder!” The others in line in back of her started craning their necks, some using Tower Cranes, while others were satisfied with Mobile Cranes, while Lola just stood there, tapping her foot, wondering why in the world everyone acted like that Goofy Butt, she shared her existence with, now what was his name again?

And at chair, lucky number 7, we have B. a local boy from this General Area, but due to the GDPR regulations, we aren’t allowed to say exactly where he and his mate, Lola – last name unknown – actually did live!

“Why do they keep saying that they aren’t allowed to say anything, but end up doing so anyway?” yelled Lola at the loudspeaker, as the crowd looked at her, wondering where her home town actually was, and did it lie along the North Saskatchewan River?

“Peanuts” the vendor called out, as Lola looked for her seat number. “Deep Fried Jell-o, Taber Corn, Deep-fried Onion Cakes” – looking deeply into Lola’s well, eyes saying “We’ve got all of your favorites today, Honey! What will it be?”

Lola sneered first, then stood up, while the woman next to her was biting deeply into her Fried Jell-o, then said, “Look you. I don’t know what kind of foreigner you take me for, but you are barking up the wrong Province, Got it?”

And for our foreign visitors today, The Cuisine of Alberta! That’s in Canada, if you didn’t know it? All Right Now, All of you Albertans out there, Show yourselves by yelling out, “I-

Lola sat down and buried her nose in the program. The main event had better get a move on, what with over 400-words gone – wasted on building an impression of something that most likely will only detract from the main idea of this blog!

The man next to B., Mr Muscle, flexed his muscles as he eyed the mayonnaise jar in front of him.

B. just asked, “Why in heaven’s name is mayonaisse so difficult to spell anyway?”

“Look Buddy. Just right-click it and move on!” then continued to flex his many muscles, while waving to his Gal in the bleachers.

“Well” said B. “I’d like to think that a pickle jar would be easier to open, but I might be wrong about that as well?

“Why is that brawny fellow waving at you?” asked the woman next to Lola, as she sipped her Alley Kat Beer and said, “He’s a looker all right! Are the both of you from Edmonton, or did he bring you in from the back-country, and get you all cleaned up for City Life?”

Lola just ignored her, as she tried to catch B.’s attention.

“Well, looky there” said Mr Muscle. ” I can see a pretty thing way up high in the bleachers just a waving at me and all! Guess one of us is going to get lucky after the match is over, aren’t I?” said then started flexing his muscles, while he beamed up to the young lady, and her elderly mother!

At the count of 5 the match will begin. Remember that no external opening aids are allowed, and the use of teeth, while legal in parts of Alberta, are frowned upon here in Alaska!

“Well. That sure cuts down on your chances, don’t it?” asked Mr Muscle, as B. flexed his one puny muscle in anticipation of the start of the-

Flexing his one puny muscle in anticipation of, of –

“Bang!” the traditional firing of the 30-30 Winchester has signaled the start of the, the – whispering to someone next to him – What do you mean, that wasn’t the starting shot?”

“My lord in heaven” yelled the elderly lady, spilling her Beer onto the woman next to her, “Uh Sorry about that Miss, but….Now where did she run off to, I wonder?”

Mr Muscle just about succeeded in removing the lid off the jar, when a bullet with his name on it, whizzed on by, striking the jar of the fellow next to him!

“Hey Buddy. That might be the way things are done in Canada, but here in the Good Old U S of A, we use our raw strength to win contests like these, then we shoot up the town, with rifles like yours, afterwards!” He looked up into the bleachers to see if that young looker was still eyeing her chances with him, but only saw her elderly mother waving back at him!

B. just made his way towards the front gate, stumbling across “The Cuisine of Alberta” which looked like it had seen better days. Just outside the deserted parking lot, a voice greeted him with “Hey Mister. I could really fall for a man like yourself, with that puny muscle that just drives women wild!”

“Gosh Lola. What a crazy party, huh?”

Lola just nodded and said, “How about we catch some Fried Jell-o and an Alley Kat Beer in town, before we head off into the sunset in each other’s arms?”

B. just kicked the Tundra Dust before saying, “I knew someday my puny muscle would win me the girl of my dreams!” and with that said, The blog drew to a close.

“I’ve always had a thing for older women” said Mr Muscle to Lola’s mother, as they considered their place in the fading moments of this blog.

“Well, just keep your muscles where I can see them” she said, and wondered how Canadian Men were in bed, as this blog started to tear around the edges, while someone considered tossing it into the nearby circular file, but then held it briefly in his hands, while whistling a tune from another place, called…….

ARR or Lyrics to that Effect!

“Uh”. said Lola as she looked on the net for-

“When you say Uh”, he said, “does that mean, “take me you Closet Canadian, you” or was it really, “I think my Moose sideswiped yours on Highway 1 near Soldotna, Alaska!”

I really hated those fender benders, and we had just purchased that Moose at the local Wildlife Auction in Fairbanks! There I was, kicking it in the shins, while Lola was looking into its sad eyes saying, “You remind me of my childhood days in some nondescript home town in Alaska!”

Lola was really hankering to tell me that story, but what with the bidding going on and all, I didn’t want to bid too low, dropping my milkshake in the process, losing the girl and the shake of the Moose’s tail at the same time! I kept trying to convince the other bidders around me that it was blind in the one eye, but she only said, “That’s a lie, my glass eye always looks like that!” I told her to “shush” while I was undermining the others, trying to get my Moose, but then it, the Moose that is, decided to alleviate the situation by coloring the room with the most fragrant odor that drove even the most hardy buyer out into the fresh air of the Fairbanks Landfill, located conveniently next door!

“Sold to the couple of which the one being a fabulous-looking woman, who will get the Special Fairbanks’ discount, if she would only show a bit more skin than she has so far!

I turned to Lola with my pleading eyes, but she only said, “Not for all the Gold in the Yukon, am I selling out in order to give this fellow a free show!” Dejectedly, I handed over my hard-earned cash, and was ready to drive our new-used Moose home, when  the ARR passed us by! “Was that the Anchorage Express?” I asked the woman whose “free show” was only available for your truly, but

“ARR stands for: Alaska Railroad….”

-“But Lola, I always thought it was called the Anchorage Express! Why didn’t the Caribou Woman correct me on that now obvious error?”

“Most likely because it was meant to represent an idea, which was rooted in the fantasy element of this blog, not having to be true to the actual, factual name of the railroad, as it should have been named!”

I wasn’t sure, if that was a response from Lola, or was it just someone elses way of covering their tracks for their own Faux Pas?

I put on my Google and revved the Moose up for the ride home. I always thought of how Groovy I must look, sitting there in my Googles and Leather Stockings, while my companion, looking Drop-Dread lovely in her sequined top with her-

“It is not called, Drop Dread you Mooser, you!” She hoped her sequined top wasn’t going to reveal any of her assets as the winds of Highway 3 swept them away to points unseen?

She turned to him as the miles rolled on by, saying, “Oh how lonely the call sounds of the railroad beside us” while he just mumbled to himself, “Darn unlucky having to change all of those blogs with the wrong names in them, but turned to her saying, “Oh how I love the sandy wind in your road-kill colored hair!” which made her wonder how anyone could be as lucky as she, riding along on her new/used Moose, with the man whose muscle in his right forearm, gave her a feeling of comfort and-

“Gosh Lola. You make it sound as if I only have one muscle in my body! I’ve got more of them you know, but I didn’t want to flaunt them around those Fairbankians to make them feel interior and all!”

“The word is inferior, not interior”, said by the woman whose Googles reflected the masculine muscular look on his face while considering if they had enough twigs to make it all the way home to the Kenai Peninsula, or was a Twig-Pit-Stop really necessary?

-“and it is Goggles and not Googles, if we are on the subject at hand”, she with her correctiveness, standing between me and anarchy, where the rest of the society might have crumbled into an interior Goggle of inaccuracies and Moose Vapors reminiscent of the Moose Auction, where a well-placed twig, close to the Moose at hand, assured them of-

“Are you telling me that we have gotten this Moose through your ill-gotten gain?” said by the woman whose words of accusation were driving me wild, making me krazy in the wilds of this Great State of , of…

Now, where was it we were again? I do need to write those kind of things down, seeing as how the blog has just crossed over the 800-word mark, and our followers are sitting on the very extreme edge of their seats wondering if we really had taken a wrong turn, ending up in one of those Foreign Countries nearby?

“Are you talking about Alaska?” asked the woman, who suggestively drew me into this ending conversation, wanting to touch my right forearm, even more than in the beginning of this narrativ…….


Unboxing and First Looks

Congratulations and well-deserved happiness with your latest acquisition. Before the unboxing is to begin, we would suggest you read the instructions thoroughly, and acquaint yourself with the various parts and functions of this device. Remember that the manufacturer will not accept responsibility for the misuse of the product, nor will it assume any liability for the misinterpretation of this instruction manual, just because it seemed like a good idea at the time! Enjoy!

“Gosh Lola. Just think of it. Now that we’ve become a 2-Gun family, what with this one that I won at Wally’s Gun Emporium and Sushi Bar, and the odd one or two others – that was a joke you know? – that may or may not have occupied our “Gun Room” over time….”

Now. Very slowly begin to remove the plain-brown wrapping paper, being careful to preserve the logo “Shoot Off Your Mouth – Gun Company” of Soldotna Alaska, in order to frame this memory at a later date! Using your patented “Gun Scissors” begin at the upper right corner, then move counter-clockwise to commemorate the movement from East to West when the United States “Took” what was rightfully its “Own” property, from the illegally unsanctioned natives with weapons such as these!

“Lola. Dear. Where are our Gun Scissors at?”

Lola just sat there, filing her nails, waiting for the Preliminaries to be over with and the Main Event to begin!

“Look you Dolt! This is a simple assignment. Just unwrap, then lock and load! Forget the Foreplay here!”

“I don’t know Lola. There have been many times before when you played a different tune on your Mouth Harp. Why when I was doing that Irish Sea Shanty dressed in my Kilt, and you were yelling “More, More” I said, “Gosh Lola, is this really the kind of Foreplay you need, because it seems to me that-

Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States:

“A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed”

“That statement alone”, said Lola as he searched for their “Gun Scissors” “should make you want to stand on your feet and salute the Flag emblazoned on the wall, where… where……”What has happened to the Flag on the wall?” that being something that Lola had to ask herself, seeing as how the delay in unwrapping, hinged on finding those danged Gun Scissors!

“Read this passage here” he said after collapsing in a heap in front of his mighty and powerful mate! “In lieu of not possessing Gun Scissors, then an Authentic Bear-Skinning Knife manufactured by the Bear-Skinning Knife
Company of Lower Soldotna, Alaska will suffice!”

Lola said, “This blog is getting bogged-down once again, and we still haven’t seen the Naked Steel of that fine weapon of yours!”

“Gosh Lola” said while blushing a bit. “Those kind of words almost qualify as Foreplay in my book!”

“Concentrate! Cut, Unwrap and Admire! Words that you might have bestowed on your One and Only if you had concentrated a bit more! I need you to think “Well-regulated Militia” and get on with it!”

-“and put that tongue back in your mouth, when opening that box!”

With the paper lying unceremoniously on the floor, along with the scissors, the upcoming picture-frame from the Soldotna Framing Company of, well Soldotna Alaska, and an odd-piece of clothing or two, the camera pans the room looking for the Unwrapee and the Unwrapor!”

“Gosh Lola. I never thought unwrapping a box, containing a gun could be so satisfying, did you?”

Lola just leaned back and took a drag of her non-smoke, “A Volcanic Pistol from 1854” and said, “How far have we come in this blog, and does it really matter anyway?”

B. just looked at the unwrapped box, then directed his thoughts towards the crack in the ceiling. “Lola. Don’t you think that someday we should fix that crack, before Mt Meager in British Columbia erupts again, causing renewed Ceiling-Distress in our little Alaskan Home?”

“Look you. Haven’t I told you to let Dormant Volcanoes Lie, and especially those from Canada! We have our own Stratovolcanoes to be concerned with! Leave the Cascade Volcanic Arc, and their so-called, “Complex Volcanoes” for our neighbors to deal with, and concentrate on the Aleutian Subduction Zone instead!”

“Wow Lola! More sexy talk, eh? I have a feeling that we should close the Blog Curtains right now, and discussing this topic in the privacy of our own thoughts, what about that?”

B. started to close the curtains, but was stopped by Lola just long enough for her sneer to be recorded by the writer of this particular blog!

“Get your own Subduction Zone” –

Those being words, directed at this very author, as her smile disappeared like that of one particular Cheshire Cat of long ago.

Remember. If the moment is right then go for the gold! We at the Soldotna “Shoot Off Your Mouth” Gun Company understand this completely allowing for a new Unboxing at a later point in time….

“And we still have the framing process to look forward to, Huh Lola?”…….

The Main Reason for Being an Alaskan

Lola just looked at the title and sighed. She knew that sooner or later he would be telling her why he chose those words to define their lives at this point in time, but…..

“Lola!” he yelled from somewhere deep in the house. “Have you seen my binoculars, and Gigaphone, and my…”

“Don’t you mean Megaphone?” she yelled back, but he only replied, “That is old hat now, Mega and all! I’d feel better if we had a Teraphone, or…but it’s not certain that…..

voice disappearing into the depths of the belly of the beast, while Lola just stared into the mirror, while brushing her hair.

White Away” was what the shampoo promised, and that was what she wanted to remove from her life! All traces of Antarctica White, or Grey that had crept into her hair, without making its intentions clear to her before that happened!

Appearing behind her saying, “Wow Lola. What a lot of color in your hair! Why I can see….

“Save it for Sunday, and let me concentrate on re-reading this label before I do the deed!”

“Just think of it Lola” he said without registering what she just had said. “Soon will be that time of the year that is the Main Reason for Being an Alaskan!” looking up past the odd-200 words to the title, and-

“but do you really think that this “activity” is something that we need to “share” with each other?”

“Gosh Lola. Don’t you think that our relationship has progressed far enough for you to enjoy some of the things that I do? You know, together and all! Why if this works out like I think it will, then I can come to your Greenhouses and sing to the plants, just like you do!”

-and with that said, he began to hum “I’ve cried the Antarctic White out of my eyes” the current hit by Robert Penn Quinn! The song that was sweeping the charts with its bristly style and clean-swept lyrics!

“I don’t sing to my plants” she insisted with more than just a trace of contempt, “but I might just talk a few things over with myself, especially when blogs like this haven’t gotten to the point yet, leaving me and your 5 followers wondering if it ever will?”

“Well, when the Spring Breakup occurs on the Tanana River at Nenana, which by the way is devilishly close to Healy Alask….Ah, I think you might have heard of it before, or what?”

Placing bets on when the river was going to thaw, or listening to your better half humming songs that didn’t do anything in the world for her, made Lola want one of them to run away from home, leaving no forwarding address, or inclination of them ever coming back again!

“Uh Huh” replied Lola, but….

“Well, Wally is taking his Classic ’56 Chevy along to see if it will float on the Tanana River as good as what happened last year on the Anchor River at the New Sterling Highway, when his late Ford Escort did a double-flip before disappearing under the ice….

“Were all hands lost, or was anyone pulled ashore in time?” asked Lola who wished that someone, anyone who was reading this tale of woe, would side with her and take matters into their own hands, before the ice decided to crack!

“Gosh Lola. That was almost a Funny, you know?” said by the man whose own guess as to the winning time was still the best kept secret, this side of Mt Denali!

“We could beat the others to the punch, you know” said the man who might have been elected Mayor of Healy, if some unknown person hadn’t implied infidelity in his past, while he was working in the local Stereo Store, “-and camp out along the river, with our Giganoculars and Teraphones that would signal…now what was it, they would signal?”

“Aren’t we just getting off the subject at hand, just a Teense?” asked the woman, whose own collection of Stereo records was rumored to be the ice pick, that cracked the case wide-open on that Winter’s day in 19—–

“Now I know where I’ve seen those streaks in your hair before!” said the man next to her, while writing the date for the ice to break, on his official entry blank, while the words ticked away and anyone that has reached this far in reading this blog might just wonder when that darned ice was going to make them rich, thus saving them from reading words to this effect, that were better off-

Lola broke in saying, “It’s people like you that can’t keep their blog-house in order, causing the rest of us to get those darned streaks in our hair, instead of allowing us to remain forever young, and-“

and, continuing in the same spirit, with B. saying, “and just as talented to sing those immoral words “When I’d cried the Antarctic White out of my eyes, when the River gone and Broke, and my …..come on Lola. Let’s sing it together, just like the time when we made beautiful Stereo Sound together in Healy, Alask- Uh, uh, well you know what I mean don’t you?”

Lola thinking: And I might have been the wife of the Mayor of Healy, Alask-Uh,……Oh Boy, did she know that!…..

His losing ticket in last year’s Ice Classic

“Gosh Lola. I might have forgotten to fill in a few of the more important details on the ticket? Don’t-cha think?…..