As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I have been trying to follow the orders of Maggie, who told me I needed to stop being congenitally joined to a keyboard and start acting normal human in not being a 486 clone. In that, my endeavor was to immerse myself in the great wisdom outdoor writers. This wisdom was to be found in Pat McManus, who seemed a great deal more immersed when I was a child than presently.
As we return to this saga, we return the reader to this wisdom of the ages cost 80 cents and I somehow did not notice that the book had been wetted. It was a really good job of wetting. Had even black mold on the back inside cover, so it was really wetted for a long time.
Naturally my Plainsperson deciphering sign of Indian and grizzly, immediately discerned this book did not just have dog pee on it, was dropped in the crapper or was lost in the lake. No this book had the distinct attributes of being wetted, no pissed on by a Saber Tooth Tiger or Sword Fang Cat as known to Plainspersons, as we run into these predators all the time, especially around 2 AM on a storming night of lightning flashes and horrific winds, where your firearm is locked in the pick up 5000 miles away and you are left with only a spatula and a dull one at that.
So for the record, I have a Sword Fang Cat pee book which is very rare and cost 80 cents, because no one saw the real value in it, as they never run across such critters on the eastern slope of Wyoming in of Big Piney, well known to be Sword Fang Cat lair territory. How this book got to my vantage point, is of course something no doubt of Dorothy Wizard of Oz stuff, but mine no doubt was a break away glacier that a polar bear road on before it melted here.
As I was acting normal in reading this book of outdoor wisdom, in searching through it, as it gets more interesting with the pages stuck together mixing up the wisdom of Pat McManus, I happened to find myself flipping through the pages to see how much wisdom I had yet to discern which a forest of trees had perished in clear cut for, when I came across this black spot. I closed up the book and then with great game trailing experience flipped through it again as I excitedly had it confirmed what my plainsperson eye had immediately spotted after doing this several times before.
Yes before me on page 463 was a black mark, but not just any mark. This was a genuine fingerprint, and of course I knew from criminal investigative training that this was not just any fingerprint, this was a thumb print.
Yes, but this was not just any thumb print. This was the thumb print of a Neanderthal. Now how a French Neanderthal ended up across the Atlantic, was reading Pat McManus' book after a Sword Fang Cat had pee'd on it, is the stuff of Lame Cherry legend, because I deduced that too.
See I could tell by the thumb print that I was dealing with a rather light Neanderthal, a non mature silver back who of course was walking through Sword Fang Cat country, as Neanderthals do these things, and happened upon a camp site, where a Sword Fang Cat had marked their territory, as the family had been so bored with camping they had brought books along, and being so overcome with being immersed in Pat McManus wisdom had left the poor book outside on the picnic table, where during the night a Sword Fang Cat had urinated on Pat McManus' book marking it's territory as Sword Fang Cats do this often in the night and campers always mistake it for rain, and Sword Fang Cat teeth flashing in the night for lightning and Sword Fang Cat growls for thunder, and in the morning the heavy dew has washed away all evidence of the Sword Fang Cat tracks to those unpracticed in reading sign, and they see a book left on the picnic table and think it has been rained on, and being true outdoor's people build a roaring campfire to dry it as they go off wondering who is trying to burn down the forest, as a Neanderthal from the caves of France, happened by and wondering what a wet book is doing there, leaf's through it and leaves their fingerprint on page 463.
Now some might say something ridiculous like this was Big Foot or Sasquatch, but that is just showing how inexperienced they are, as everyone knows that Big Foot who can not read, but they do put on ape suits and run about the forest trying to be discovered in cameo for Hollywood moguls.
So that is the story of the wisdom of Pat McManus in association with 80 cent books, adorned with Sword Fang Cat scent marking locations and later paged through by Neanderthals on a walk about from France.
It is a rare thing to have such a wealth of wisdom, autographed by so many rare and exotic creatures. Perhaps someday I will loan it for display to the Smithsonian Institute as they seem to be opening all sorts of new wings like for Negroids and the like, and I am certain this book would deserve it's own wing in American Neanderthals and their kitties.
That though will be some time in the future, as it is taking some time to find all the hidden wisdom in this book. I am sure it is there, but that Pat McManus lays down sign for wisdom, the same way a Sword Fang Cat does for the laymen.
agtG
