Tit for Tat, Rum for That

[Note: WordPress apparently generated some scandalous random posts, on other blogs that have nothing to do with mine, at the bottom of my previous post referencing “Cookies N Cream” ice cream… I can only imagine what the random generator will do based on the title of this post, so my apologies in advance for its lack of discretion.]

I do not claim to be some great adventurer, or to have things all figured out, or even partly figured out, for that matter. I certainly am no sort of role model, and if I had to pick a role model for myself, it would be the Staffordshire bull terrier that did the Crufts agility course back in 2004. Dr. Virago and I were hiking and eating our way across the Isle of Man and happened to catch the dog’s performance on tv. I have searched in vain on YouTube and elsewhere for years for the footage, so that I could watch it again whenever I felt down…

The dog did not win. Not even close. Never stood a chance, quite frankly, and the presenters sheepishly admitted they were showing its performance from earlier in the day only because it was so, uhm, memorable. That dog ran the entire course full tilt, tongue hanging out one side, not going up and over or under or weaving in between the obstacles but just pummeling through them, headfirst, busting open the styrofoam brick wall, completely demolishing the fabric tunnel. It was not pretty. It was not “correct.” Onlookers were aghast. But you know, the dog looked like it was having a blast.

Anyway, over the years I have heard, from more than one person (and certainly at least a few of you reading this), things along the lines of “I live vicariously through you,” or “Why didn’t I think of that?” or “I wish I could do some of the crazy things you do.”

Well. This is your chance.

I am presenting you with an opportunity to scoff the law.

As most of you know, I am not much of a drinker. Most of the time, not at all, in fact. But this pirate has gone without rum for too long. Yes, there is rum here. Bacardi. Yuck. The only thing worse that calls itself rum would be Captain Morgan. Or Meyer’s Dark. Or Sailor Jerry’s. Or… well, no matter.

I happen to like Gosling’s Black Seal Black Rum, and not just because the label has a cute seal balancing a keg of rum on its nose (awwwww… pair that with the RoboSeal research project they’ve got going down here and you’d get some really interesting results).

Here, there is no Gosling’s.

Without even mentioning how nice it would be to have a shot of Gosling’s in a ginger beer (readily available here), I have heard stories from co-workers who shall remain unnamed, unless I need to divulge their identities in some kind of plea bargain, in which case I’d hang them out to dry faster than… than a Staffie busting through a styrofoam wall. People get beverages of a spiritual nature mailed to them all the time… one woman’s mom sends her vodka in emptied-out mouthwash bottles.

I know. That’s some mom, huh?

Anyway, wow, how nice it would be to enjoy a wee tipple of black rum here in the white world. Just sayin’.

Now, theoretically speaking, of course, you may be pondering:

What’s in it for me? Two words: Antarctic souvenir. Anyone who happens to accidentally drop a bottle in the mail will receive their choice of Seventh Continent graft, either a t-shirt or hat (please specify size… I mean, theoretically, of course). If clothing does not appeal to you, I can hook you up with a cool water bottle, wine glasses, pint glasses, coffee mug, soup mug and/or dazzling selection of stickers and refrigerator magnets. Just indicate your preference in an anonymous note placed in the package you’re not going to mail me. One catch… the package you’re not going to send with the thing you shouldn’t put inside must actually arrive here. No emailing me about the case you sent that mysteriously disappeared over the Falklands…

Where do I send it? And to who? I’ve given my address out both on this site and on Facebook as well as in emails… If you don’t have it by now, or if you don’t know my actual name, we probably don’t know each other well enough to not do this transaction that we’re not going to do.

Meh, why should I bother? Won’t someone else answer the call? Hey, all that is required for evil to triumph is for good pirates to do nothing. Or something like that. In any case, if I should find myself with a surplus of that which will not be sent, like any good pirate with a surplus of rum (as if there was such a thing), I would barter it for other necessary goods.

I’m in! What next? You crazy $&%(#^! Well, I’m not going to tell you what to do… just ask yourself, what would Captain Jack Sparrow do? (Answer: drink all the rum yourself and still demand a free t-shirt.) Nevermind. This is all theoretical, right? I’m guessing he would not mail the thing you’re not going to mail in its original packaging. Soda bottles or medicinal bottles, such as cough syrup, also are not a good idea. And, while the mouthwash bottle sounds like a slam-dunk, ask yourself, if the Kiwis open it to inspect it, what will they think of a bottle with, say, a bright blue label and the words “Wintergreen Fresh!” that contains something the color and viscosity of motor oil? I’m just sayin’. No, since I am by no means encouraging you to do the thing you’re not going to do, I will leave how you’re not going to do it up to you. Though, whatever you don’t do, do it securely… should it break or leak in transit, no doubt seals will be attracted to it for miles, eager to balance the sopping wet box on the tip of their cute little noses. The SealCams researchers have placed on their heads will then record the addresses of sender and recipient and then we’re both screwed. Also, don’t mail the thing you’re not going to mail with things you might mail… should it never arrive, I would hate to think it also dragged a tube of Burt’s Bees Shea Butter Hand Cream or Lush’s Trichomania Shampoo with it to New Zealand’s Customs Purgatory Davey Jones’ Locker.

To conclude, goodness, who came up with this idea? I don’t know. I left my computer in the internet kiosk for five minutes to check on my laundry and look what happens. Or rather, what won’t happen.

[Disclaimer: to the friendly, well-meaning folk who monitor our Internet usage – and I know you do, because I paid attention during my Internet security training, because I am an upstanding citizen who would never break or even bend the rules – the preceding post has been provided for Entertainment Purposes Only. Surely none of my friends would even think of taking it seriously, because they are all far too chicken law-abiding, and they all know better than to get sucked into one of my crazy schemes. I mean, seriously… the last crazy scheme I had landed me here. If, however, someone does send me rum that actually gets to me, I will alert the authorities forthwith, providing the name and address of the scoundrel so that he or she may be keel-hauled or, in lieu of a ship and suitable body of water, slapped about the head with a mackerel.]

That is all. Carry on.

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5 thoughts on “Tit for Tat, Rum for That

  1. so….why is it not allowed to not send such items as you have not requested that we send? I can understand in a combat zone (where they used similar shenanigans to get things, including pork products and porn), but why there? just curious, in case I decide not to get you anything…..

  2. I loved that damn dog.

    And also…Burt’s Bees Shea Butter Hand Cream…hmm, who’s the last person who sent you that? Clearly you’re expecting that person not to mail you what you don’t want sent. Or something.

  3. LLQ: well, alcohol *is* highly flammable… and if it were legal to mail it, flaming Molotov mail issues aside, people could then get around all the duty taxes.

    DrV: I so wish I could get a video of that dog. Just remembering it makes me smile. And I was just thinking of things people *might* mail to me, other than the thing surely no one would be crazy enough to mail to me (we wantsssss it preciousssss…. no! mustn’t tell! mustn’t say it!)… staring down at my itchy red flaky hands as I typed naturally made me think of the delicious shea butter awaiting me in my room…

  4. LLQ: also meant to say, all our stuff passes through Christchurch, which means it passes through NZ customs, notorious for taking its job seriously, whether it be a biosecurity issue or tax issue or flammable issue or “just didn’t like the cut of his jib” issue… i mean, seriously, DrV sent me the most innocent package of hand cream and lip balm and it arrived with a big “OPENED AND EXAMINED” sticker on it from the Kiwis. Sheesh.

    • So….did they actually open up the products to check inside? need to know for future reference in case I don’t send you anything. Also, any other ideas of less….troublesome products that you need?

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