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Mr. Sexyloops is 43! Day 1

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Monday: Paul Arden
Tuesday: Harps
Wednesday: Bernd Ziesche
Thursday: Mr T.
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Sunday: Anvar Maliutov

Ronan's report


Wednesday December 19th, 2007

Since December 19th, 1964 Paul's been doing it in style!
Congratulate him here!
Happy Birthday! Cheers! ~The Loops Crew
Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3

Well, this is it. Paul’s birthday. And to kick it off in style, I'm launching a couple days' worth of FPs celebrating Paul, his birthday, and his crazy invention - Sexyloops. Just like James Bond, another fine product of the UK, Paul never seems to get older. The women just seem to get younger, and more beautiful. So, cheers to that!

It seems a bit odd that I'm kicking this off, since I've known Paul for a shorter time than anyone else on the FP crew. But Wednesday is the day, so I guess I'm the guy.

I met Paul in summer of 2006, in West Yellowstone, Montana. My buddy Justin told me about this crazy Brit/Kiwi guy named Paul who ran some website called Sexyloops, lived in a purple Jeep, could cast like the wind blows, and could be found compulsively checking his email while parked in front of the motel down the street where there was a free Wi-Fi connection. When Justin showed me the DVDs "The Instructor" and "Enlightenment" I knew I had to meet this guy.

A few nights later Paul crashed a late night video karaoke party at Justin's place. That's where it all started to happen. Plans were drawn to fish a local lake. Then came the infamous trip to Canada in search of Bulls that was tragically punctuated by a grumpy US border guard, a drive to Calgary in a desperate attempt to reunite Paul with his Jeep and a former (and not nearly as smart or beautiful) Ms. Sexyloops, and a final farewell somewhere among the wheat fields of southern Alberta.

I haven't seen Paul since, but via the magic of email, the internet, and of course, The Board, our friendship has continued. After all that, I've somehow ended up on the FP every Wednesday. For that oportunity, Paul, I thank you again. And of course, best wishes to you on your Birthday and the exciting year to come.

~Matt

PS - Don't drink too much Palinka.


The Wormhole

I remember the first time I met Paul like it was yesterday. Scrambling up a backcountry gorge in the rain, I came across a slumped, camouflaged figure sitting on a rock, airing what looked like a pair of socks and chewing a carrot. My first impulse was to circle around him because not only was I downwind, he looked deep in thought and I was hesitant to break into his trancelike state. But, hearing me approach, he looked up and waved his carrot in a beckoning gesture so I cautiously walked up to his rock to say hello.

It turned out that he wasn't meditating after all, but tying a 'fly'. It was then I realised I was within arm's reach of a person clearly insane and took a step back, eyeing my possible escape route if he made any sudden moves. Not that tying a fly on the riverbank is an indicator of insanity, but the thing he was constructing certainly set off a few alarm bells. I reckoned the best approach was to keep it simple and not open up any conversational pathways I might want to avoid. "Doing any good?' I inquired.

"Not bad," he said, "Until they started sending runners ahead to warn their pals that I was coming."

"Um, come again?"

"You know, the old 'Angler alert, pass it on!' trick. I caught them at it a few pools back. Word is spreading fast upstream.

"Oh, yeah. Right. They're cunning little buggers, aren't they? Well, tight lines, mate." Fuck me, I thought, this guy's barking.

"Oh, there's no point going upstream unless you have one of these on your tippet."

"These?"

"Royal Fuckup. Only thing that gets past their extrasensory defences when they're in this kind of mood. They've memorised all the conventional patterns, of course. Only thing is, I'm out of blue jay."

"That critical, are they?"

"Oh, you have no idea. Smarter than sniffer dogs. But I think it might work without the blue jay if I can somehow make it look even more like a roadkilled owl."

Well, I left him to it and turned to go back downstream. I never thought for a moment I'd ever see Paul again, but I was now part of a different cosmos - the world of Sexyloops. Like going through one of those space/time wormholes.

Now, if I could just find the exit hole.

Happy 43rd, Paul. Boy, the meter's running, huh?

Bob



Pic Of Day

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