. . . but I remember Ft. Bragg as the thrilling conclusion to the only contest of luck, skill, wits, or endurance that I've
ever won against either Bill or Henry: the competition to see who could go the longest without removing his jeans. That is, who could go the longest without bathing. This may have happened on an entirely different leg of the trip, but the way I remember it, you guys each showered that night and I decided to wait until morning. The next day Bill told me that my body odor was so overwhelming that you two had slept out on the lawn rather than share a room with me. I believe I remember Bill saying that I was sleeping happily on my back with my hands behind my head, armpits perfuming the room like a corpse flower (OK, he didn't actually reference
Amorphophallus titanum [or Raffesia arnoldii — thank you Wikipedia]. But it still sounded pretty gross).
(I'm sure I don't have to tell you that the corpse flower, largest blossom [OK. Largest 'unbranched inflorescence' in the case of Amorphophallus titanum]on the planet, is pollinated not by bees, moths, or hummingbirds, but by hyenas [OK. Flies, not hyenas. And not elephants either, as was once thought. Thank you internets.] — attracted first to one flower and then the next by the intoxicating aroma of rotting flesh.)
2 comments:
Great! But why in the world did we think filth was worthy of a contest?
i think filth reached new heights for me during this trip. my mother would have been apalled.
i guess we did laundry every so often....probably at my grandparents in SF and i'm pretty sure when we invaded the house in Colorado Springs we did some, but other than that it's like we just lived in filth and moved on. kinda like i don't remember cooking anything at any time, ever, on this trip.
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