scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

13.9.04

branding.

on the canoe trip i invented a breakfast that *really* warms you all the way to your toes: oatmeal and Baileys. because oatmeal is warm. and whiskey is warm. and together ... well! Delovely.

And. in the next-door campsite ... these crazy nutters, one of which was named Goober ... who wanted to be branded ... he'd been inspired by his buddy ... not sure that i'd ever seen a brand up close and personal before. either an pre-established, healed-up brand, or an actual branding process (cow, human, or otherwise). so. the fella that had a brand already - it looked kinda cool. More subtle than a tattoo - at least to my half-drunk self by firelight. Shiny. and the lines in each letter are a good half-inch wide. So. Goober wants to get three letters on his arm (won't tell us what they stand for). He already has the middle one, a U - got it last week and it looks awful. it's all scabby and red and really gross and painful looking. So his buddy untwists some wire coat hanger (jeez, wire coat hangers have an awful lot of dangerous uses, don't they?) and makes him a D and they stick it in the fire for a while, and it's a fairly hot fire to begin with. so. there it is in the fire. and it's too hot to touch - there's a nice long length of wire-coat-hanger-handle - so buddy grabs it with a pair of pliers and Goober stands up with his Bud Light in his non-branded arm and buddy jabs the D into Goober's arm and Goober just stands there. A little wisp of smoke comes up from his arm. i'm not close enough to smell it - i'm a third of the way around the fire or so, and all i can smell is fire-smoke. But - the little wisp of smoke rising off the branding. And Goober is standing there, not even flinching. Holy fuck. so. it's done. and there it is - this little scabby-black line. i formulate a theory that they pick at the scab, and pick at it, and pick at it, to make the letters as wide as they finally are on the buddy's arm. Not too sure. So then he wants an A - and buddy makes an A, only it's a fucked-up lopsided A, and somebody points me out as being able to make a functional A, so they hand me some coat-hanger and some pliers and i do, and they stick it in the fire for a bit until it's hot enough - buddy takes it out once and puts it on Goober's arm only it isn't hot enough yet - back in the fire - so - then it's hot enough and they brand him again, so he's got DUA on his arm. only when they branded the D and the A they touched the scabs on the U so it's all bloody. and awwww, hell, i'm ... there are things one doesn't voluntarily do. Getting deliberately burned. Climbing up to the top of a bridge-trestle a hundred feet above the water and monkey-ing all over the top of it. Being drunk and falling out of a hammock and wondering the next day why your ass hurts (you fell on a rock, after nearly finishing off that bottle of Old Crow). Nearly finishing off a bottle of Old Crow. Yeah. Things like that.

Labels: camping

scrawled @ 15:20