'Had quite the action-packed weekend, between trouncing Olarkin's patented and supposedly "perfect" Old Glory BBQ sauce with my own superior concoction (and crushing his fragile eggshell mind in the process) on Friday, and grabbing a quick bite with RM and her hubby and lil' tyke on Sunday.

So Saturday a bunch of us went canoeing out in Deliverance country - somewhere out past Leesburg but still accessible to Frederick...oh forget it - fuck if I know. I do know it was a gorgeous, scenic way to spend an afternoon.

Highlights include Dewey's "ramming speed" approach as I desperately tried to steer us away from either shore. (We eventually capsized.)

After switching up partners, a family of deer pranced across the river in front of us, making my stomach growl and my brain wonder when I last enjoyed a sumptuous plate of venison.

Of course, to actually see the Bambi Squad you had to be at the front of the canoe pack. Dewey was still waay back there. I'm not gonna point fingers about the earlier capsizing incident, but just throw the facts out there and let the public decide...

At the bow, I had a hanging koozie, aka "the stick," and a fresh frothy can of the King of Beers at all times, aka "the carrot." (Guess who "the ass" was completing the equation.) But hey, with a beer directly in my line of sight - just slightly out of my reach - it got us down river in record time.

At one point, Olarkin actually rammed my canoe into the rocks, jamming us in a patch of small rapids. And yes, you're absolutely right - this was clearly revenge for the BBQ sauce.

And there was this guy there - twice as big as me, though not in an obese way, strangely. Apparently, he used to play football for Mississippi State, and he was built like a running back. Which is all to say two things: 1.) Of course he brought along the hottest trophy girlfriend in the history of trophy girlfriends, and 2.) He could snap me like a twig.

So this girl is just lying there sunning in a bikini at the bow of their canoe, while he pushes them along with ease. Suffice to say, Smashtar made several passing comments about Trophy Girl's "flotation devices," which was spot-on, except Smash and I probably had two very different opinions about said flotation devices.

Then, suddenly, Trophy Girl falls out of the canoe! Beautiful!

A stunning development, in more ways than one, and at that moment I was reassured of what I've suspected all along: That if there is indeed a "God," this God is not one of those holistic-type all-encompasing no-real-gender-type gods they teach of in forward thinking Jesuit institutions.

No, in fact this God is the original ol' school white-bearded God with flowing robes and clouds and cherubs all around, like you find in all the old frescoes. A bearded, male chauvinist God, who tells man, "Lo, despite the political climate do not feel shame at the female form, my son. Here, enjoy and appreciate - for indeed she is my finest creation! Let this or any other Trophy Girl bring you joy, and raise your spirit, that you may lift your voice in praise of the Lord!"

"Gaawd - the Hugh Hefnah on high!"

But lo, all good moments must pass. In the end, the cold water only served to make Trophy Girl cover up - for good. Turns out God is a shrewd, smart woman after all.

And I am a terrible, terrible person after all - as shallow as the river that momentarily claimed Trophy Girl for its own.

I think Jimmy Carter put it best when he said "I have lusted in my heart."

Anyways...what was I saying? Anything coherent?

Oh yeah! So I met Reverendmother (...who probably doesn't appreciate following that last act) and her family. That's right, if there's a fourth-wall equivalent to blogging, I just broke it. (Are there ethical implications here?)

First of all, the little tyke, aka "C" is adorable. No, I mean this. A-friggin'-dorable. (Everyone says their kid is adorable, but let's face it - there are some ugly kids out there.) "C" also struck me as remarkably happy and well-behaved. And not well-behaved in the strict disciplinary-way, but rather the naturally secure and genuinely at-ease way. RM and R seem to be doing something right, and quality parenting is always a breath of fresh air. (I should have been feverishly scribbling notes...for very future reference.)

Anways, our dinner resembled getting to know someone in reverse. I felt like I knew RM on a personal level in some ways, through her posts and poetry, etc., but I knew few of the basic, logistical details. So we didn't share any particularly deep thoughts at the table, but rather worked backwards - brief histories, who's-who on the blogosphere, etc. Lots of little questions answered. So that was new...unusual, but good-unusual. (I dunno, your thoughts, RM?)