Time: Sat May 03 09:45:09 1997 by primenet.com (8.8.5/8.8.5) with ESMTP id GAA01069; Sat, 3 May 1997 06:05:43 -0700 (MST) by usr09.primenet.com (8.8.5/8.8.5) with SMTP id GAA02896; Sat, 3 May 1997 06:02:05 -0700 (MST) Date: Sat, 03 May 1997 06:21:00 -0700 To: (Recipient list suppressed) From: Paul Andrew Mitchell [address in tool bar] Subject: SLS: THE CASTAWAY ENGINEER (a/k/a law of the jungle:) <snip> > > THE CASTAWAY ENGINEER > > A rather inhibited engineer finally splurged on a luxury cruise to the > Caribbean. It was the "craziest" thing he had ever done in his life. > Just as he was beginning to enjoy himself, a hurricane roared upon the >huge > ship, capsizing it like a child's toy. Somehow the engineer, >desperately > hanging on to a life preserver, managed to wash ashore on a > secluded island. > > Outside of beautiful scenery, a spring-fed pool, bananas and coconuts, > there was little else. He lost all hope and for hours on end, sat >under the > same palm tree. One day, after several months had passed, a gorgeous > woman in a > small rowboat appeared. > > "I'm from the other side of the island," she said. "Were you on the > cruise ship, too?" > > "Yes, I was, " he answered. "But where did you get that rowboat?" > > "Well, I whittled the oars from gum tree branches, wove the reinforced > gunnel from palm branches, and made the keel and stern from a >Eucalyptus tree." > > "But, what did you use for tools?" asked the man. > > "There was a very unusual strata of alluvial rock exposed on the south > side of the island. I discovered that if I fired it to a certain >temperature > in my kiln, it melted into forgeable ductile iron. Anyhow, that's how >I >got the tools. But, enough of that," she said. "Where have you been >living >all this time? I don't see any shelter." > > "To be honest, I've just been sleeping on the beach," he said. > > "Would you like to come to my place?" the woman asked. The engineer >nodded >dumbly. > > She expertly rowed them around to her side of the island, and tied up > the boat with a handsome strand of hand-woven hemp topped with a neat > back splice. They walked up a winding stone walk she had laid and >around a >Palm tree. There stood an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and >white. > > "It's not much, but I call it home." Inside, she said, "Sit down >please; > would you like to have a drink?" > > "No, thanks," said the man. "One more coconut juice and I'll throw >up!" > > "It won't be coconut juice," the woman replied. "I have a crude still > out back, so we can have authentic Pina Coladas." > > Trying to hide his amazement, the man accepted the drink, and they sat > down on her couch to talk. After they had exchanged stories, the >woman >asked, "Tell me, have you always had a beard?" > > "No," the man replied, "I was clean shaven all of my life until I >ended up >on this island." > > "Well if you'd like to shave, there's a razor upstairs in the bathroom >cabinet." > > The man, no longer questioning anything, went upstairs to the bathroom >and >shaved with an intricate bone-and-shell device honed razor sharp. > Next he showered -- not even attempting to fathom a guess as to how >she managed > to get warm water into the bathroom -- and went back downstairs. He >couldn't help but admire the masterfully carved banister as he walked. > > "You look great," said the woman. "I think I'll go up and slip into >something more comfortable." > > As she did, the man continued to sip his Pina Colada. After a short >time, >the woman, smelling faintly of gardenias, returned wearing a >revealing >gown fashioned out of pounded palm fronds. > > "Tell me," she asked, "we've both been out here for a very long time >with >no companionship. You know what I mean. Haven't you been lonely, >too...isn't there something that you really, really miss? >Something >that all men and woman need? Something that would be really nice to >have >right now!" > > "Yes there is!" the man replied, shucking off his shyness. "There is >something I've wanted to do for so long. But on this island all >alone, it >was just...well, it was impossible." > > "Well, it's not impossible, any more," the woman said. > > The man, practically panting in excitement, said breathlessly: "You >mean... >you actually figured out some way we can CHECK OUR EMAIL HERE!!??!!" > <snip> ======================================================================== Paul Andrew, Mitchell, B.A., M.S. : Counselor at Law, federal witness email: [address in tool bar] : Eudora Pro 3.0.1 on Intel 586 CPU web site: http://www.supremelaw.com : library & law school registration ship to: c/o 2509 N. Campbell, #1776 : this is free speech, at its best Tucson, Arizona state : state zone, not the federal zone Postal Zone 85719/tdc : USPS delays first class w/o this ========================================================================
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