It can’t be! Why it seems like only yesterday I was frolicking in a pile of brown leave. Basking in the glow of the autumn sunlight. Celebrating the end of another swampass season.
And I wasn’t half as happy as Big Jim and the Twins.
A warmer than usual winter has rushed the onset of Swampass2012. Our official launch into muskiness began this morning when I dusted my nether regions with magic from a can.
Swampass Season is a photogs least favorite. We can handle freezing our twigs and berries in a snow bank while Darla Darling oozes cuteness warning of Snomageddon. We don’t mind pack-muling the entire engineering department through the sand because a stacker wants to see the surf. Hell, we’ll even raise the mast in a thunderstorm if it will keep that patch of denim between our legs dry.
Things ain’t looking good this year. March Madness has barely begun, and my boxers are already so heavy with sweat they could fill a boy scout’s canteen. So a word to photogs and people who love them everywhere. Keep the dangling parts dry, or you’ll be seeking the services of my favorite summertime product.