Jet Ski's and the Loch Nickajack monster

The past few days I've spent enjoying myself at the lakeside. I've never been swimming before, but it turns out I'm quite good at floating. A couple of guys named Dale and William brought out their jet skis and I sweet talked them into letting me drive for a while. As luck would have it, this wasn't such a good idea because I put a hole in the bottom of one after I ran over something. As a result, I got this great Loch Nickajack-looking photo...

Southbound

Following my escape, I headed south. After hiking several miles, I passed a sign that informed me that I was headed toward Alabama. Now, I've never been there before, but I've heard things...not good things...enough so that I didn't want to tempt fate, so I veered east toward the mountains. These particular hills looked liked boobies!!!


As I passed through the land of cleve, I came across some nice fellows (albiet with few teeth) who after introducing themselves insisted that I squeel like a pig...I don't know what that was about.

Shortly after noon on Monday, I had made my descent from the mountains and had arrived at a beautiful lake which happened to be part of the Tennessee River. I decided to set up camp here for a few days. That afternoon, I knocked all the dirt and filth off of me in the restroom of the local campground. All that cleanliness brought out the anarchy in me, so I decided to raise some hell.