A Daring Voyage of Discovery... in which Captain Buster sets out in search of New Latitudes, Botanical Wonders, and Exotic Natives

It was a dark and dreary day with winter approaching in the Northern Latitudes.
Our gargoyle expressed his feelings on the subject of rain.

At the request of the Royal Society, I took command of HM Bark Endeavour and proceeded South in search of breadfruit, naked girls, and paradise.

You know this sounds familiar...have I sailed these waters before? This sailing ship certainly rides rather smooth. Hmmmm

It was an arduous voyage. The passage through the Roaring '40's was fraught with danger. But I maintained my watch on the Quarterdeck and tried to keep the up the spirits of my distraught navigator...

Who worried about the turbulent sea of black water that flowed for miles in front of him. His knuckles were white with fear.... uh...why is that guy ahead of us stopping in the middle of the ocean?

We traveled many thousands of leagues, each day darkened by the imminent onset of a long, cold winter.

As we sailed through the icy winds, water spewed up on the sheets creating a lovely pattern of sparkling ice... Sort of like a giant snowflake...hmmmm now that sounds like one pretty thing to catch on your tongue.

At last, we reached an exotic island and my demeanor improved as I disembarked to explore!

A gust of wind blew my beard to the side as I began to explore the beach of yellow, red, and brown sand......uh, maybe that was leaves, I distinctly remember leaves. Yes yes...it is leaves.

What a strange place this was! There was a sign asserting that dogs must be on leash! Where I come from, dogs run free and possess human servants.


Who are these city code people...Fie, fie on you, I pee on your post...so there!

So this is the fabled Quinnipiac River Gorge. I had learned of this place in school. There were stories of giant airedales and volcanoes that spew forth tennis balls--and long, evening barbecues. Well, at least it appeared pleasing to the eye!


So how do you like that visual??? huh?? Volcanoes spewing forth tennis balls -- I dream of this every night!

There was a long, straight path that descended into the forest. Mustering what courage that I could, I followed it.


Trudge • trudge • trudge....through the yellow, orange and red sand I trudged at least 50 leagues through the colorful sand, hauling my human lackey behind me.

You know...these humans need to be walked every day. Life on the ship just doesn't lend itself to such exercise. This guy is way heavy--maybe I'll tie him to a post and pick him up on the way back.

I've discovered the rare red, uh bush in the brush. I will now bestow upon thee a name.

With the Power of the Blue Dog of Ireland, I now dub thee with the name that will go down in history..........it is............

"Rare Red Bush"

AHaH, natives...these are the infamous New Englanders. Notice the blue legs and skirt. I must get closer to document this for my colleagues at the Royal Society.

Avast! 'Tis the horrid Zone of Falling Rocks! Scylla and Charybdis are a cake-walk compared with this! Serendipitously, the ancient pagan gods conferred upon us Kerry Blues nerves of steel. These were granted at the expense of some gray matter, but curiosity is a wondrous thing.

I must conduct my standard urinal-fitness inspection!

Aha! A river flowing into the Interior! Maybe I'll meet happy, scantily-clad natives in dugout canoes!




Or maybe I'll have to be content with seventeen metric tons of maple leaves floating downstream.

There! The Pillars of Hercules! Or maybe the Horns of Satan! Anyone who says this is an old bridge foundation lacks imagination.

I am unscathed.

Well, suppose I survived the wrath of the Horns of the Evil one!

I am not toast!

Onward!

What's with these mile markers? I've trudged at least 25 leagues now--can't they keep accurate records? We explorers just don't comprehend this mile thing ...it's "Leagues!" As in 20,000 Leagues Under the Compost Heap.

Just how long is a league?

Well now, we're back to the ship, getting ready to sail with the tide. My tongue is at least a yard long, and I could use some rum to wet my whistle. Lackey! Where is my cask?

I want my rum ration NOW! After all, I am the Captain of this ship.... Can't you see that my tongue is going to fall out of my head?

I feel better now -- I must now take a small nap...

Hey Hey.. we're back home. Oh my, the larch looks a little droopy, I think I should water it before it loses all its leaves.



There's no place like home. Even Mr. Larch is all disheveled and looking sort of like he needs a haircut--like me. That will be another day, another adventure.

Signing off,

theBUSTER

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