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If I Knew It Was Gonna Be This Kind of Party…

Where are the mashed potatoes?

Vodka, sheep parts, and shoes.

On returning to my Arslanbob bungalow at North Star Camp, I was invited over to chat with a local family having a weekend getaway barbecue. They piled up some meaty sheep ribs for me to eat and poured me small bowls of vodka as we discussed politics, livestock, and love.

One fellow was quite critical of US imperialism, but a big fan of Vladimir Putin. Really? I’m (unfortunately) usually still game to criticize American politics (particularly conservative ones) but I probably sound a bit like a flag-waving, gun-totin’, Don’t Mess With the US patriot in some of these situations.

My favorite moment though was during a friendly but heated and mutually ignorant discussion about international economics, in the middle of which one guy pulled down his three-year-old daughter’s pants and held her in the air at an angle so she could pee a fountain off into the grass. He didn’t even skip a beat in the conversation. How bout them apples.

Pop and daughter love. Impressively, he wasn't drinking at all because he had to drive later.
My bread, liver, and raw fat sandwich.
The ladies take a brief break from cooking and cleaning the pots.
A perfect Sunday for a picnic.

 

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