Never let a good fart go to shit.

So much for 2018 as I can no longer mark myself as safe from ‘Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.’

Here’s my guide to government shutdowns: has the IRS stopped taking money out of your paycheck? No? Then the government isn’t really shutdown.”

Life was coming awake around the entire lake. My neighbors, on the other side from me where up and about; a young man, his girlfriend and her younger sister. It was the sister, Mandi who came splashing out to where I was treading water.

She swam a couple of circle’s around me, giggling like some school girl’s do, before swimming back and wading ashore naked. She turned and smiled at me as she grabbed a towel from the ground and headed out of sight.

“Nope,” I told myself, “Fifteen will get you life. Time to go.”

“Hey, mister,” I heard the young man call. My heart stopped for an instant as my guilty mind kicked in crying, “But, I didn’t do anything!”

Then he said, “My sis says you haven’t had breakfast. Come on over. Coffee’s on, too.”

As I walked up the bank, I debated whether to say ‘no’ or not, but my desire for food and coffee won out and I pulled on my tee-shirt and headed to their encampment.

“I’m Trig,” he said as he held out his hand. My immediate thought was, “Who the hell names their kid ‘Trig?” Later I found out that he was half-Eastern Indian on his mom’s side and his full first name was Trigya.

Trig’s girlfriend’s name was Andi. I couldn’t help but turn red when I shook her hand, knowing what her little sister had done a few minutes before. And I had to fight off a chuckle when told the younger one’s name.

“Andi and Mandi,” I thought as I shook my head, “Parents.”

Before I knew it, I had a plate full of scrambled eggs, country-style potatoes and five pieces of bacon, with a cup of hot coffee. Turns out that Trig was a culinary student in Riverside and was a semester away from graduating.

As I ate my breakfast and listened to the couple talking, I couldn’t help but notice Mandi. She was a real cock-tease, sitting slightly behind Andi and Trig and flashing her breasts at me. I did my best not to look, but I seemed to notice her every time she lifted her half-tee.

Andi was completing her first year of nursing school. “I find the Latin to be harder than the actual hands-on training,” she complained as she sipped her coffee. I told her how I’d worked in the medical field at one time and that I understood the frustration of memorizing Latin names of body parts, words you’ll only use once or twice in one’s career.

Finally, Mandi removed her top, saying, “It’s too warm to be wearing clothing.”

“Put you’re shirt back on or go get your bikini top,” Andi demanded.

“And if I don’t?” Mandi asked in defiance.

“Then I’ll tell Trig not to let you drive on the way home,” her sister answered.

Mandi stood, stretched then spun, displaying a black swimming thong that left her butt-cheeks bare, before proudly announced, “I got my driver’s license last week!”

“Good for you,” I responded, feeling a bit more at ease as I checked out her body. She smile blew me a kiss without using her hand and disappeared into the small trailer.

“You’ve got yourself a little nudist there,” I said.

“Yeah,” Andi added, “A horny little nudist that’s gonna end up preggers before she’s outta high school.”

“That’s a pretty sad statement coming from her sister,” I replied.

Feeling uneasy about the current subject, Trig changed the subject, asking, “How long are you going to be here?”

“I don’t know,” I heard myself answer.

Earlier, I had made up my mind to put out before noon-time. “Why the hell did I say that?” I heard my inner voice question.

The anti-Second Amendment movement continues to go after guns, this time with the sanctioned the help of the National Collegiate Athletic Association, by targeting university and high school sport-shooting team competition. It also appears the movement has gone ‘anti-women,’ in its latest victory.

The NCAA is slowly ending all Division I rifle teams within the collegiate-system, including the University of Nevada-Reno. The Wolf Pack rifle team had been active since the early 1900’s and consisted mostly of females.

This decision comes as a surprise to many at the school, as UNR’s rifle program had won more NCAA championships than any other sport at the university. Further, the move comes on the heel’s of a recently announced plan by the school to build a new 33,000 square foot shooting range and training facility.

There are plans to develop a non-NCAA shooting team in the future at the university. In a message from Athletic Director Doug Knuth to the Alumni, he writes: “The university will start an ASUN (Associated Students of the University of Nevada) sponsored club rifle team to provide an opportunity for current and future students to participate in the sport.”

With the loss of the Wolfpack’s team, there are only 22 NCAA Division I rifle programs remaining in the U.S.  UNR plans to replace the shooting team with a cross-country in the Fall of 2019.

Poor Thomas’ Almanac for December 22: In 1885, the roller coaster was patented. Without it we wouldn’t know what a once-eaten hot-dog looks like.

It’s amazing how fast money can be raised to defraud people through ‘Go Fund Me,’ but then I’m repeating myself.

While I’ve gotten used to the Grammar Police, it’s Corrections Officer that’s gotta go.

My wife doesn’t pay much attention to me, until I want to spend money.

At each bend in the river, I expected to find an amazing white-water rapid to do battle with, but at each bend there was nothing but disappointment. The hardest bit of work were the portage’s across riffles, dragging the canoe over the small rocky areas in an otherwise fairly deep stream.

By midday, I paddled my way into the opening of a large body of water. From where I entered, the shoreline on the other appeared to be nothing more than a pencil line in the horizon. I stayed close to shore because I didn’t have a life vest on and I was fearful of the speed craft, towing skiers, would inadvertently capsize my man-powered craft.

As I moved slowly along the western shoreline, my head was on a swivel. There were beautiful, bikini clad women in every direction I looked. There were fancy RV’s, nice boats, and the smell of the camp’s fire from one stroke to the next.

Finally, I slipped into an area between two large groups of people, dragging the canoe up onto the sandy bank. There I set myself to building a small fire and brewing some coffee.

A man, somewhat older than me, soon wandered over and we began to chat. Neil, I soon learned worked in the aerospace industry and was thinking about retiring. He planned to find a piece of acreage, build a house and spend the rest of his life on the river and lakes along the Colorado.

My story seemed less impressive, so I kept it to myself, other than to say something like, “I’m in between jobs and I figured that since I’m not getting any younger, I’d go explore and find some adventure while I could.” I found it pretty much satisfied his curiosity and he invited me to stop over at his set up later in the day, “if you’re still around.”

Late afternoon rolled in quicker than I thought it would, but then I’d been dozing on and off throughout much of the days heat. I could smell meat cooking and could see the barbecue smoking, so I grabbed my bar of Ivory soap and went for a quick dip in the lake.

“We’re heading up to Laughlin tomorrow morning,” Neil offered as his wife, Bess handed me a second beer. Bess laughed, “All this roughing it makes me long for civilization.”

She had been a looker at one time, this I could see. I imagined her having won “Miss Orange Grove 1968,” or something as a teen. Still she could sport a two-piece bathing suit with the best of them and I don’t think either Neil or Bess cared who was watching as they played ‘grab ass,’ with each other throughout the evening.

After a thick steak and a ton of mashed potatoes with gravy and nearly a six-pack of beer in my belly, I bid them goodnight and a safe trip to Nevada. I wandered over to my little nest and flopped down on my sleeping bag to stare up into the bejeweled night sky that covered the lake from one point to another like a carpet.

The sky was graying in the east when I heard Neil and Bess pull out of their space and crunch their way from the gravel and sand to the pavement for their trip northward. I laid there for a few more minutes thinking about Bess’ titties before I decided to jump in the lake and cool off.