Repost: Nessie? Is that You? and Boat Rasslin! (618 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 1.68 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by CookieLass (View user info) at 2006-04-24 11:02:44 EDT
Alright, so I'm a Scottish girl growing up in Texas... of all places.... I go home to Dumfries several times a year because I have (I shit you not) 76 cousins. SEVENTY SIX COUSINS. And we're not even catholic! There are only 5 female cousins in my family... myself, my 3 sisters, and my cousin Melissa. The rest? Giant hulking idiot boys, all over 6 foot 2 with the maturity level of 10 year olds and the IQ of a box of rocks. Collectively.
On one of my trips home, some of my cousins, Patrick, John Michael, Joshua and Avery, decide that I've been in the States for far too long, and I have now been lowered in rank from "native on hiatus" to "fucking American tourist." This is not the first time that they've demoted me.
They decide that the only way to earn my status back is to go on some stupid trek to do touristy things that will probably end up with a pub fight and me having to bail their asses out of jail. I only earn my wings with them when I bail them out of jail. Or when I'm hurting myself by accident in a particularly funny way.
So what do they decide I have to do for penance? Go on a Nessie sighting trip. This requires camping out for at least 2 days in the cold. I hate them. One person I don't hate, however, is my Uncle Philip, their father, who thwarts their evil scheme of making me camp alone by forcing them to stick it out with me. HA!
So there we are. We've spent the day in a boat on the Loch Ness, the boys getting drunk and pissing over the side, attempting to wrestle (they almost capsized us twice), and giving me shit. At original posting, I thought this was uneventful and not worth mentioning, but I seem to have been wrong and will insert that part of the tale into the story now:
My cousins and I are in a relatively small boat for 4 boys as big as these guys are, not to mention as drunk as they are. My Uncle may have forced them to come with me, but he certainly didn't make them promise to stay sober enough to look after me. After chugging their way through at least 10 Stellas apiece, Patrick (in his infinite wisdom) starts passing out the hard liquor.
It was a bright, warm (for Scotland) day, so there was some decent traffic on the water. The boys and I were in a 15 foot motorboat that belonged to a friend of Avery's. It's old and made of metal with a small bench at the back near the outboard motor, and another bench in the middle of the boat which has a huge bend in it from the first time we nearly tipped over. Allow me to elaborate.
Our boat was in the middle of the loch and the water was rather choppy from wind and the surrounding motorboats. The boys all have their own personal bottles of booze and are drinking to their hearts content. I've been relegated to motor-duty and have to call out to strangers in passing boats for the entire day in my BEST Texan accent (which is quite weak at best) "Hey! Ya'll seen that there Lockie Nest Munster innywher?" If I don't, they'll refuse to call me by my name for the duration of my visit. Instead they will call me Yank. I don't know why it pisses me off, it just does. I think they hang out with me so much because I always rise to the bait when they challenge me. I'm an ass that way.
Joshua was picking on Avery at this particular moment. They all had packed a bottle of booze for the day on the water because they didn't feel like carting beer along everywhere we went. Joshua had taken Avery's bottle and was STANDING IN THE BOAT holding the bottle just out of Avery's reach.
Now Avery's a tall boy, but Joshua has freakish gorilla arms that are easily 6 inches longer than normal arms. Avery is a crybaby and is whining slightly (he was 17 at the time) as he jumps to reach the bottle. Jumps. To reach. The bottle. In a 15 foot boat that is floating about 1100 pounds. Needless to say, the old girl is a-rockin'.
Then, he does the stupidest thing that he has done without being dared. Avery takes a dive at his brother. His near-300 pound brother. Joshua falls backward into the middle bench and gets the wind knocked out of him, which is inherently funny. As he's flailing for breath on the bottom of the boat, Avery proceeds to plant his arsehole directly on Joshua's nose and fart. Sounded like a goddamned foghorn. The other 2 boys are laughing and falling all over themselves and I have nearly wet myself.
Joshua sits up and punches Avery in the kidney with some sort of wild Gaelic screech. Avery lunges again, and the boat rolls so deeply that about 5 gallons of murky (and fucking COLD) water slosh over the edge. Joshua and Avery catch facefuls and it brings them to the realization that perhaps a good ol' drunk rasslin' match in the middle of a very cold and very deep lake isn't the brightest plan ever.
They straighten up and start to gesture to people in passing boats to get their attention to force me into humiliation with my crap Texas accent. This amuses them for about an hour and a half. Several pisses were taken over the edge of the boat. At one point I was dared to try, but it was windy, and my aim isn't so good.
John Michael, who has been relatively quiet thus far and content to chug his booze on the floor at the prow of the boat, has had enough of the asshattery and chucks his mostly empty bottle of scotch over his shoulder. I'm pretty sure that he intended for it to either land in the loch or hit the bottom of the boat with a mighty crash that would scare the piss out of all of us. Instead, it hit Joshua in the small of the back. Joshua lunged.
The boat lurched disturbingly. I swear that it almost lifted the motor out of the water. The prow filled up with water, Joshua the Angry Drunk kidney-punched John Michael a couple of times and then all the alcohol and sun got the best of him. He puked in the boat. Fucker. I sat on his back and held his face down in it the whole way back to shore.
Once there, we set up camp in a lovely expanse of meadow, not too horribly far from the Loch itself. They make a fire, we proceed to get (more) pissed and try our damnedest to set up the tent. Considering the state of our drunkenness, we do relatively well.
Drunk and giggling and acting the fool, we all pile into the tent and proceed to pass out. Patrick goes first, so his brothers proceed to give him a LOVELY makeover ("Oi... what say we tart him up a bit?) using most of my makeup and even putting one of my bras on him. I don't understand why boys always feel the need to do gay shite to each other when one of them is passed out, but I love them anyway.
After Patrick's Extreme Makeover into 'Patricia,' we all go to sleep, giggling and kicking each other in the asses with a few Dutch Ovens being performed.
At some point in the middle of the night, I am awakened by a Homer Simpson-like shriek from one of the cousins. I sat bolt-upright in my sleeping bag, still half asleep, still mostly drunk. Avery and John Michael are hugging each other like little bitches in the middle of the tent and whispering furiously back and forth. My drunken brain fears a Deliverance moment until I comprehend the situation.
There is the sound of footsteps, decidedly animal, pacing around our tent. Every few seconds, the sides of the tent would buckle as though something is trying to burst through the wall. It's muddy out, so you can hear an ominous squishing noise. "It's the Loch Ness Monster!" shrieks Avery, clutching his older brother like he wants to ride him.
John Michael kicks Joshua in the head to wake him up. Since Joshua is the biggest it is decided that he should go do battle with the horrendous beast and save us all from certain doom.
What does Joshua do? HIDES IN HIS SLEEPING BAG LIKE A PUSSY BITCH. Avery and John Michael are still clutching at each other, crying like something out of the Blair Witch Project, and 'Patricia' is still dead to the world, having finished off an entire bottle of scotch all by himself. I'm the only one not freaking out.
Now, liquor effects each individual differently. It makes some horny, it makes some mad, it makes some into fucking cowards and then it makes a few of us think we're Superman. Supergirl.. whatever. So I prepare to face the evil Loch Ness Monster that is pacing our tent, hell-bent on devouring us and sucking out our souls. All 5'4, 123 pounds of me.
I stand up, adjust my clothes, and begin to unzip the tent. My cousins are crying about how if I go and something happens to me, their father will kill them "Please, please, Cookie... Don't do it!" Bravely I step out into the freezing, squelchy, Loch Ness Monstery night, fully expecting to be devoured by a beached sea-serpent.
Then I hear it... bleating? HOLY CRAP! HE'S GOT A SHEEP! And I feel it. Hot breath on my... knees? What the fuck? The monster hasn't GOT a sheep, he fucking well IS a sheep. In fact, he's an entire FLOCK of sheep. We had unwittingly camped out in a pasture. Not wanting to miss out on a prime chance to make fools out of my cousins, I shriek and throw myself against the sides of the tent, successfully caving it in. I flail around on the ground while the sheep look at me as with bored and not even remotely amused eyes. (Fuck those sheep... at this point, I'm amusing MYSELF!)
The boys are screaming inside what is left of the tent, and I proceed to mimic my bloody death, begging for help (which I DON'T get... bitches...) and saying my final farewells.
I haven't lost my "native on hiatus" status with them in 4 years. I rule.
User Reviews
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:34:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I shear sheep.
My cousin doesn't shear though, he keeps them all for himself...
:(
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:27:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I sneer at sheep.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:27:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I snear at sheep.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:24:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Dutch ovens are when you fart under the covers and then fluff the covers over another person's head and force them to smell your fart.
Good Drew, I just always wondered how these would read if I combined them is all. I was also curious to see if the Uber of today would appreciate it the same way now as they did then, given the propensity of crap as of late.
The End.
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:18:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The other Drew has a point - I love this story, and did when it first came out. Why all the reposting?
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2006-04-25 09:08:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story!!
What's Dutch Ovens?
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-25 08:13:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
TTOM, you are certainly not lying. I think we have a bridge and a rock. Which we all live under.
Submitted by erosion_rules (user info) at 2006-04-24 22:48:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
TREE-FITTY!
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2006-04-24 22:32:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-04-24 17:52:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
GO SCOTLAND,WOO!
Although Dumfries has exactly nothing in it
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-04-24 17:48:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
auto +2 for Dutch Ovens
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-04-24 14:43:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This makes my asshole cousins seem evolved.
Submitted by OneCheapGeek (user info) at 2006-04-24 14:00:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I've never denied it. I also genuinely don't understand why you are reposting this. I was hoping you could enlighten me, not because I'm being a bitch or anything but because I've seen others do it lately.
But by all means, go ahead and think that I'm trying to bring you down or something. I never take people's feelings of self-importance away from them.
Submitted by MyTeeOne (user info) at 2006-04-24 12:45:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My cousins run just the opposite...they're mostly girls. However, my one male cousin and I, do exactly what your male cousins do to you. We still do and we're "adults" now.
Good read. Take me to Scotland with you.
Please?
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-24 12:10:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Cousins, Berty. I've only got theone brother, and he's far too staid and tightly wound these days to do anything fun. He used to be a professional paintball player when he was in highschool, and was once scouted for the Chelsea football club, but decided against it. And that is just about all there is that's cool about my brother since he's been grown.
Drew, don't even bother reviewing me under your pseudo alter. I've always known that one was you, since it's also your AIM name.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:59:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your brothers are rubbish and common, little better than thugs. My relatives are far superior.
Submitted by OneCheapGeek (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:51:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm somewhat confused by the sudden rash of reposts here. I guess it's people picking their best stuff from ages gone so the n00bs can comment?
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:50:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kissmyarse (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:45:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good read
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:43:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes. Yes he did. In jail, oddly enough, for the continual rape of a Nessie doll.
Submitted by Dervel (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:34:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Did ferret Sid Vicious die of a heroin overdose like his namesake?
Or did he die of a heroin overdose like an average Scot?
Bwahahaha!
<runs>
Submitted by retrospect (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:32:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
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Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:19:24 (#)
Ranking: 0
I had a stuffed Nessie for a while, but then my ferret, Sid Vicious, claimed it as his lover and I could never bring myself to touch it again.
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my old roomie had a cat named sid vicious. i miss him. sid that is, not the roomie.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:32:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Har Har Nessie!
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:27:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I had 2 ferrets, Sid and Nancy. But Nancy turned out to be another male, and not a girl at all hence the Nessie luvvins. My Nancy, however, did not meet a gruesome end. She died peacefully of old age as opposed to multiple razor stabby wounds.
Submitted by Dervel (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:25:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Was the nessie called Nancy?
Did she meet a gruesome end?
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:19:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I had a stuffed Nessie for a while, but then my ferret, Sid Vicious, claimed it as his lover and I could never bring myself to touch it again.
Submitted by Dervel (user info) at 2006-04-24 11:16:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I went to Scotland for a week when I was about 10. They were selling these crapy hats with a bog roll nessie on them with "Nessie Hunter" written on on it.
Fortunately, even at that tender age, I was far too savvy to buy in to that sort of nonsense.
I bought one with a brown fluffy ball and "Haggis Hunter" written on it.