Thursday, September 2, 2010

River Festivus 2010

RF 0’10

Where does time go? No, seriously. “I’M BEING CEREAL!!!” WHERE does it go?

 Time continues to go speeding by no matter how much I want it to slow down.  This month I’ve felt just like I’ve been wearing a sassy pair of hot pink roller blades while barely managing to maintain a white knuckle grip on Time’s coat tails.  Luckily, Time decided to throw me a speed bump this past weekend with an unexpected four day holiday.

 Four day holiday, you ask?  Oh yes, yes indeed!  The Tinsley ‘Clam,’ my oldest and dearest friends, were kind enough to let me crash their 4th Annual River Festivus in Martindale, Texas on the San Marcos River.  I’m pretty sure they allowed me to tag along because  A) I’m a TERRIFIC dancer,  B) I’m a FABULOUS singer,  C) I’ve got a pretty great mobile crack shack service and  D) I’m not scared to get really silly, embelish some shizzle and provide unexpected entertainment.

 River Festivus 2010, hereafter referred to as RF 0’10, got off to a bitchin’ good time on a Wednesday with a Skeleton parade and wand waving birthday extravaganza.  Sadly I missed this event…  But luckily it was captured via film and its beauty can be treasured for all time.

All chil’ren participants were made to sign a River Festivus Contract which is so frickin AWESOME I think #4-9 shall become part of my daily manifesto.  Although #1-3 are admirable goals, I have no personal desire to refrain from eating other people’s food, to obey anyone over the age of 18, nor will I pretend to remember any of my annoying habits that you might want me to stop doing.  I shall however, substitute “life” for “RF ’10” and I WILL promise to have an awesome time.  I’m totally amazed at the brilliance of this contract. Kudos to you MKT.

I officially unofficially joined RF 0’10 Thursday when I met up with this rowdy bunch:

We headed straight for the marvelous waters with tubes in tow, where we unwittingly embarked on the longest float trip known to man.  The water was effing frigid, the sun roasty toasty and the cooler was very well stocked, thanks be to the Sweet Baby Jesus and or MKT. “Mmmm! I smell fried chicken! Is that you Tiny?”

 Floaters numbered 12 in total, intact non-leaky tubes numbered 10, and although it felt like we were out in the wilds for days, I think we completed our float in roughly 4 agonizing unforgettable hours.  Perhaps the fact that we started at noon without eating lunch, and tube lounging encourages ravenous hunger, contributed to the impatience that predominated the last hour and a half of our hairy little adventure.

The night before our never ending float, Tiny Tinsley, all hyped up on sugar from Dirty D’s magnificent washer cake and the lasting euphoria from the Skeleton Parade, decided to mash a little cake icing into Crazy J’s face.


Bad. BAD, HORRIBLE Idea.  The truly unfortunate bit was Crazy J’s retribution, which involved HOURS of poorly aimed mudslinging.  AND scary stick waving.  That man has an evil laugh.

As our tempers were growing shorter, floaters were abandoned in the slow eddies and at one point MGG Supernova, the guy with the coolers, was made to tow several non-paddlers through troubled waters.  When he came to the startling realization that he was the only person out of the 12 actually doing work, he taught us an important lesson by swimming away with coolers in tow.  I believe the lesson was:  Freeloaders will not be well liked and very often will find themselves thirsty…  Alas, all floaters somehow survived and after a marvelous dinner was feasted upon, everyone returned to merrymaking and once again friendships resumed.  The evening ended with much porch sitting and Washer Olympic watching.

There's a sausage/ taco joke missing here somewhere...

Friday found most RF 0’10 goers much too traumatized tired from the previous day’s float trip to gear up for another.  Thus we made a quick trip to Wal-Mart for night crawlers and supplies to make proper Hamster Buns.

The package claims to contain Hamster Buns.

Whilst driving into town for our wares we came upon a funeral procession after which Supernova regaled us with his Soap Box Preaching™.  It was well-worded and profound but since I can’t remember the exact deets, it basically boiled down to:  People should have a little more respect for the recently departed by pulling over, uncovering one’s head, and that it’s generally considered VERY poor form to blast past on the shoulder and or median to bypass the ‘inconvenient’ delay.  “For Goodness sake!  IMAGINE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL IF THAT WAS YOUR GRANDMA!!!”  Although I am unable to capture his twang and general peeved-ness, those that know him will totally get it.

All chores and sermons for the day completed, we returned home to the Reever for more ice cold beverages and to supervise the beautiful mud chil’ren swangin’ off a rope into the water. Our supervising consisted mostly of a stream of constant scolding for making too much joy splashing in our general direction.  Several Fesitvus goers also partook of the Rang Tang, an infamous vodka orange flavored beverage, which led to much singing, smooching, dancing and much less scolding.

Although this chick did not write a glowing review of the RT, you can learn more about its prowess here:

Or you can look closely at the next set of photos to catch a glimpse of Rang Tang induced shennanigans.

Tiny strikes a pose for GI Joey

“I think you need some SMOOCHES!  Come here to me!  I want to give you smooches! MMMSmooch, smooch, smooch, smooch, smooch!”

Rang Tang Dance

Friday night found the entire group much more hung-over sedate after 2.5 days of living ‘the good life.’  One noted exception to river lethargy was our Wee Show Pony.  Treasures pile up a plenty along a flowing body of water and the Wee Show Pony found herself a magical star wand.  This led to a preponderance of fairy blessings and bedazzled dance moves.  The Wee Show Pony found no task too challenging and was solely responsible for getting her Uncle Supernova’s truck to start, with a well directed wand waving, fairy blessing session.

 For real...

Saturday started early with the excitement of visiting San Marcos’ famous gift shop named Paper Bear.  It was a magical wonderland of junk, jewels, stationary, books, gag gifts, greeting cards, candy, toys, and everything else you can’t possibly imagine until you’ve been there.  I managed to escape with only one birthday card, a piece of ABBA ZABBA candy and a gator key chain.  My fellow patrons picked up their own assortment of treasures and we all rode home listening to an enormous iron crucifix jingle jangling in the back of the car.

Unfortunately all good vacations must come to an end…  RF 0’10 wound down on Saturday evening with an extremely short float, by which I mean there was only enough time to drink 1.25 adult frosty beverages.  This was remedied with an evening filled with more river lounging, pool playing, general shooting of the shit and an awesome time had by all.  Thanks to the Tinsley-Gardner-Roberts Clam for all of these amazing memories and the promise to start that hot dog stand (again).


So if you need me…  Don’t call, just text.  I’m going to be VERY busy drawing up business plans for “Gator’s Riverside Crack Shack and Hot Dog Emporium- Now Serving Cheeto Chili Cheese Pies.”  WORD.


  1. So this was the San Mizzle river, no? How did you like it?!? =] Miss you!

  2. Great story, even greater time. I love the photo montages and Wee Show Pony's fairy wand approximation. Can't wait 'til next year!

  3. MKT- I appreciate your appreciation. It was serious hard labor. Every time I added a pic it scrambled the whole GD post. I have a new level of serious DISLIKE for Luckily I am a phenomenal multitasker so instead of my head exploding, yelling obscenities, or tossing the whole effing computer out of the window, I made dinner and did laundry while spending one whole day/night piecing it together. I am the master of self control. HAHAHAHAhahaha!

    Tia- LOVE IT. It's also way closer than going all the way to Gruene. XO