Dear Daisy,

Why do dogs have black lips?

port and starboard is a interesting question and really not many know the true answer. Back before the cival war when the great Rickey Jackson Lee Bouquet was sailing the log canoe mistery of whistlerville there was those drinking Heineken (green) ("STAR" beer later shortened to starboard) and some Budweiser (red).... well you can see where this led to those with greenies had the right of way.....simple huh ?

Dear Daisy,

When we were racing the other day, someone yelled "Port Tack Option!" at us. What the heck? What rule number is that?

Dear Mr.Bouquet,
What is a whatchamacallit?

Dear Daisy,

I've noticed that a lot of sailors drink. Some of them drink quite a bit, I must say. Do they drink because sailing makes them drink, or is because they have to be drinkers to get onboard in the first place? Any help I could receive in this matter would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks.


P.S. Why DO dogs have black lips?

I personally think that it is not cause and effect, but just a correlational, or symbiotic relationship.

Many people enjoy a tasty beverage on a pleasant summer day. Many more enjoy physical activity with a little risk of bodily harm to keep you on your toes. Find someone who enjoys both and you found a sailor. The more risk you like, the closer you are to a log canoe sailor. The more risk-averse tend to be cruising sailors.

Now, if you find someone who enjoys a tasty beverage on a pleasant summer day, but doesn't like physical activity, then that person is more likely to enjoy a back yard barbecue. "Why go sailing when I could just enjoy this tasty beverage?"

Then there are those people who just like the physical activity. For the teetotalers, sailing has a specific problem. You see, most of the sort who swear off the swill find it necessary to get some churchin up several times a week. This churchin up can really get in the way of sailing. It turns out that God doesn't want you to enjoy your day off on a sailboat drinking a tasty beverage. God wants you to put on a tie, slick your hair down, then go sit on uncomfortable benches in a hot room. Seems like a strange requirement, but hey! small price to avoid eternal damnation.

So, it not that sailing leads to drinking or drinking leads to sailing, but there are clearly some incongruities here.

While the snooty officers and their fancy "sheets" and "lifts" can talk about sailing out there on the logs, I think what's experienced by the humble grunts on the boards needs a new term. Something like lumber rugby or woodwrasslin'. And that needs a beverage or two just to dull the pain and keep the heart from exploding when you're approaching the starting line with about six inches of space between you and the committee boat.

Ah, yes. Well, we're all riding the logs. I do like the term Lumber Rugby for those chosen few who throw the boards.

Have you considered a Boardman's Union? After all, if those fancy plastic boats can have a Bowman's Union, surely a Lumber Rugger can have a union too.

http://www.bowmansunion.com/

Don't you know the Boardman's Union was born back in Aught Two, I think it were, at Sweet Corn's 100th anniversary party on the Hewes' lawn, with a bunch of Lumber Ruggers staging a mutiny against the caterers who were attempting to flee with the remaining beverages, leaving us a stash of white zinfandel to chug gluttonously while staging the first ever public group chanting of the Boardman Song? This was before some of us stowed our bellies aboard Lucky Charms' base yacht and stole their shamrock neckties. Next up is a Boardman's Clinic for what ails ye and a Boardman's Commissary cart to push around at lunchtime on Saturdays, where primaries and squelches alike can stock up on Boudreaux and other necessities.
The lyrics, in case you haven't heard them ringing across the Miles, Chester or Tred Avon once or twice:
Trust Your Boardmen, by Johnny Scrappleseed (as sung by the Island Blossom Choir)
Trust your boardmen and your fore-man! More beer, more cheer, Corbin (or insert your skipper) have no fear ...
There's sheets to tend and sails to bend, honor to defend!
But the boardmen will save you in the end ...
(REPEAT O'ER & O'ER)
 

Dear Daisy,
I throw boards on a log canoe; we'll call her the "Island Brassiere". My skipper, "Porbin Crenwell," had a rough outing Sunday. First, he prepared some devilled eggs that were ill-received at lunchtime. Second, he suffered from a shoddy start, dead in the water at the line while the fleet soared past. Third, he misjudged a vital tack near the end of the race, allowing our biggest competitor, "Island Malarky" to walk away with the Governor's Cup.
Well, Daisy, a lot of blame was hurled toward the tiller as we glumly towed back in, and I'm afraid my skipper's confidence has been shaken. I drank with him and sang him songs; I even ate most of the leftover eggs to try to build him back up, but underneath the mask he was crying inside.
What can a humble primary do to lift his spirits? How can we heal?
Sincerely,
Sad Old Boardman
Note: names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Yes, the curse of the Gov Cup has found a new victim in Captain Crenwell. I hear the Boardmen's Olympic Games that were to be held at Crenwell Stadium in September could now be in jeopardy. It's possible that the name will even be sold...possibly to Bayliner.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
If we can promise Captain Crenwell that Bordman will hold him up for the ceremonial keg stand to start the festivities at Crenwell Stadium (like the first pitch at a baseball game), it may raise his spirits enough to keep everything aligned in the log canoe universe?

I'm still waiting for Daisy to weigh in on this one. I need his calming wisdom.

oh that easy just speak to Veronica and get him laid !