Time: Sat May 03 09:45:09 1997
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	Sat, 3 May 1997 06:05:43 -0700 (MST)
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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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