Don't make me post about my brother's encounter with a buzzard!
> @ <-That's me twisting your arm.

You asked for it...

My brother was zipping down this back road in Arkansas and rounded a blind
curve scaring up a flock of buzzards feeding on some OLD road-kill.  Now, I
don't know how much y'all know about buzzards (or vultures) but when they are
frightened, they will "lighten their load" for a faster take-off... i.e. puke.
Now... picture my brother flying through a wall of buzzard puke.  It would be
bad enough if the story ended here but, alas, it does not.  Tommy (my brother)
rode home at full throttle (trying to out-run the stench), jumped off of the 
still moving bike in the front yard and ran through the house to grab the dish 
soap outta the kitchen so he could hose himself off.  Now, at the time, he 
lived in a typical Arkansas "Shotgun shack".  For those unfamiliar with this 
design, it is a long narrow house with a common hall from front door to back 
door that connects all the rooms in the house.  Tommy's plan was to fly 
through the house snagging the soap from the kitchen on his way out the back 
door.  A good plan EXCEPT for the fact that our sister was home at the time 
entertaining some of her friends!  As Tommy burst in the front door through 
her room she exclaimed "What is wron.." just before she and her friends caught 
a "whiff of jiff" and began to gag, retch and barf in general.  Meanwhile, 
Tommy has made it to the back yard, grabbed the hose and is doing his best to 
get clean.

They burned Tommy's clothes and I don't think they EVER got the smell outta that
house or off that bike!

Dr. Speed DoD#8177:
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