- Joined
- Aug 29, 2010
- Messages
- 13,543
Cautious were the actions of I, the bearer of said Bag O' Randalls, tasked with the responsibility of transport through four states of treacherous terrain in the wee hours of the night, dodging, mayhem, deer, and wood pile wheels of death....
From the wastelands of Portland and it's inhabitants that know no proper restroom but leave their scent amongst the streets, along the river did I travel, toward the badlands of Washington, through the savage Spokane, the rugged panhandle of Idaho, along the lake of the Flathead valley, finally arriving at an undisclosed location buried deep within the woods.
Refueling points were carefully scheduled along the route so the security detail could be at the top of their game and alert, revitalized with much needed potty breaks, cheez-its and juice boxes.
Upon arrival at the destination, under cover of darkness, the decoy was set..... Noyhing to see here, just your average family, asleep in a driveway.....
With B.O.R. now in hand, contact was made and the transfer began. As requested by me, courier of said B.O.R., an inventory was requested and made to ensure that all items were in tact and accounted for so that both parties were satisfied and could verify that no anomalous activities occurred, nor by the original purveyor of said goods at the show, the courier, or an act of God somewhere in between.
It was either that, or I really just wanted to get my grubby little hands on them purdy things and check them out. That Number 7 was impressive I thought. Not knowing my arse from a hole in the ground when it comes to Randall's, I didn't recognize it from the picture, but it seems that every time a Randall makes me go nuts, it's always a 7. I really liked the smaller one that you had as well, and if I had more disposable funds, I might have tried to take one of those home!
From the wastelands of Portland and it's inhabitants that know no proper restroom but leave their scent amongst the streets, along the river did I travel, toward the badlands of Washington, through the savage Spokane, the rugged panhandle of Idaho, along the lake of the Flathead valley, finally arriving at an undisclosed location buried deep within the woods.
Refueling points were carefully scheduled along the route so the security detail could be at the top of their game and alert, revitalized with much needed potty breaks, cheez-its and juice boxes.
Upon arrival at the destination, under cover of darkness, the decoy was set..... Noyhing to see here, just your average family, asleep in a driveway.....
With B.O.R. now in hand, contact was made and the transfer began. As requested by me, courier of said B.O.R., an inventory was requested and made to ensure that all items were in tact and accounted for so that both parties were satisfied and could verify that no anomalous activities occurred, nor by the original purveyor of said goods at the show, the courier, or an act of God somewhere in between.
It was either that, or I really just wanted to get my grubby little hands on them purdy things and check them out. That Number 7 was impressive I thought. Not knowing my arse from a hole in the ground when it comes to Randall's, I didn't recognize it from the picture, but it seems that every time a Randall makes me go nuts, it's always a 7. I really liked the smaller one that you had as well, and if I had more disposable funds, I might have tried to take one of those home!
, Happy Veterans Day and Thank you for Service, especially to my brothers with Blue Cords
