Hoop Screams.

Horns'n Hoop: The devil made me do it.

I believe that I have recently been subject to torture much more
severe than anyone of those fortunate unlawful combatants down in Cuba
could possible imagine. The magnitude of my suffering is immeasurable.
It is not possible to have been more uncomfortable in one day. Only a
geophysicist could possibly find any redeeming benefit in participating
in an HLEM "Max-Min" survey. Which could go a long way to explaining why
so many geophysicists are loners.

Today I had the "pleasure" of wearing the "hoop" and traipsing some 75
meters behind the bearer of the horns. 16 steps and then stop for two
minutes and dial up various frequencies all to extreme aural
dissatisfaction. First time ever and hopefully there will not be a
second( mind you I also said that about epaulettes and then I worked on some fancy yacht...).Weighed down with a lead belt of batteries, and suspended from my shoulders both a great ,fat, heavy oval hula hoop and transmitter box, I swear a hold over from the early fifties. All of this lashed to me with the finest in thin leather webbing and rusty steel buckles that
ever came out of the same generation. Never have I spent more time going nowhere with such physical disatisfaction in the search for minerals. Not only that I had the distinct displeasure of having to wear snowshoes during this day of unrelenting misery!

Who in their right mind could possibly consider snowshoeing a remotely
enjoyable recreational activity. Why on earth would someone want to
post-hole, though not as deep as without the "benefit" of wearing them, anywhere in uncomfortable soon to be wet
footwear when that same person could get everywhere in half the time on
ski's and have considerably more fun descending?

A pox on any of you that actually enjoy this "activity"!

How could I stop there? I can't! A low level jet stream has placed
itself directly over top of us and it is currently blowing in excess of
50kts. At least I'm inside. I could still be out there frying my
testicles and tripping over myself in slush and ice.

Thanks a bunch Sister Sarah for sending me this pleasant sight.

Damn I miss the boat. Serving blue haired old ladies G&T's all day
couldn't be more appealing after today.

Hey look, maybe one day I can make it to the top of the world without getting frostbite.

It's Beer o'clock.

D.