my private Idaho

Usually, I'd have to say that taking trips to our office in Idaho is not something I generally do without being forced into it, if it weren't for the fact that I gather travel points, it seems to be an otiose endeavor.
So I just got back from a work-forced trip to Boise and I was schooled about a marmot called the Idaho Rock Chuck, apparently the folks up here put the "Idaho" in front of the rock chucks name because of outsiders propensity to think they were either joking, as in the "snipe hunting routines" or confusing the name Rock Chuck with famous rock stars, of course what comes to mind for me is Chuck Berry. There are a lot of Mormons in Boise/Idaho and I never figured this religion to be famous for it's sense of humor so I believed them when they told me about this mythical marmot, and although I laughed once watching the Donny & Marie Osmond show, it was only because of the images I had in my head of me,using a comb with wax paper while humming  the tune  "the Camp town ladies"
on Marie Osmond's cootch.

This introduction to Idaho nature also turned my thoughts towards all the wonders of nature:
From the famed South American Tufted Tit Tyrant and it's penchant for territorial fights to the term Hedgehog in reference to Ron Jeremy.

After the first day of getting schooled by my Mormon work associates, the next day I met a transplanted co-worker  he was not Mormon, but an Irish-Catholic from Chicago, so the trip did get me into comedic areas that covered the animal world along with other sophomoric topics....just the sort of thing to ameliorate my desultory yet piquant jejune comedic mind.

A little background to this new encounter:
This fellow was one of those guys that seemly had everything going for him, except money.
I didn't ask but he was probably still in his 20's with the gift of humor and gab to go along with the looks that would make most young women bubble in their panties and squeal at the thought of his - protuberating crotch rocket thrusting into their clam-chasm
However self aware of these assets, he didn't seem vain or arrogant about them, rather the opposite.
I, being a slightly better than average looking fellow for my ancient age, could see the benefits of him being a good wingman in the sense maybe I'd get his leftovers or the mom of the girl he wanted to bang- too bad he lives in Boise. we'd make a great team- think a sophisticated and more physically attractive Beavis and Butthead duo.

So the events of the day revolved around some work, and of course ending in drinks and great stupid conversation.
This resulted in telling stories ranging from my dog Wayne and his friendly Golden Lab like behavior, to which I described as the kind of dog that'd lick a strangers ballsack even if it wasn't covered in peanut butter, to wondering outloud why a picture of Anderson Copper appears when you google "gerbil milker"-  we also included those crazy names of sports figures, like, I mean, Rusty Kuntz the outfielder for the 1980's Tigers probably would have been asked to change his name by today's leftist feminist movement, and speaking of politics, what about Harry Baals? you'd have to give the people of Fort Wayne, Indiana a comedic star for electing him.

I felt conflicted that I never got to the story about secretly emptying my roommates cat box for 10 straight days before dropping a big effluvia laden deuce in in, because of the ultimate out come of that prank- as how was I to know my roommate spent money at the vet to see why his cat was constipated?
The fact that I didn't know my new work buddy well enough, to not know if he'd see that prank as being inhumane to the cat, and that he told me he had a couple of kittens, led me to hold that one back for another day, or trip.

You know after spending that day with a guy, who I'll from here on refer to simply as "The Prodigious Dude," and sharing our bent quixotic views of the world over drinks and work, I think my Idaho denouement was comedic success. And if you count the fact that I was enlightened to the native marmots in all their related glory, well I can only end this blog with a joke that was made for Idaho stereo types .

A guy goes to the beach and sees a young man wearing a speedo laying out and getting all the attention of the ladies, at day's end the guy goes up to the man to ask him what his "secret" for attracting such a herd of beautiful ladies.
The man simply says "sir you only have to get a large Idaho Potato, and drop that into your speedos.
The next day the guy, armed with a potato in his speedo,s goes to the beach, but much to his dismay no ladies even came near him. At the end of the day he went back over to the guy and said " I did what you told me and not one woman even got near me, what could I be doing wrong ?"
The guys says "the potato goes in the front"     .  .