Interview with Joe

We were under the impression Joe couldn't form complete sentences and frequently drooled, so imagine our surprise when we spent a charming afternoon chatting with him over lemonade and crumpets. Really quite extraordinary. The complete transcript follows...

RR: Hot tub?
Joe: ug, Hot Tub Good. Flip Cups... Bad...

Ah the hot tub, I remember pulling into the rally, with our million candle power light pointing into the dark Vermont sky that fateful friday night. 12 hours in the thing, and a stomach covered in temporary tattoo's my aching body was looking forward to the hot tub... Unfortunately I never made it to the hot tub, since on my way over to the hot steamy goodness a couple of large shiny objects, that dispensed that magical elixir called 'beer' sucked me into their orbit, and I was never the same after that... I wasn't the same before that either... come to think of it i've never been the same since I found out that there was a wood fired hot tub...

RR: Wake up?
Joe: sleep is for week. I week, I sleep... er pass out. Woke up

Really? I sleep 361 day's a year so I don't have to wake up in Island Pond. I fell early last year, I made the mistake of playing flip cups... This year i'll be sporting a stylish sign around my neck informing people that I have indeed registered with the authorities, and that i'm to be kept away from the flip cup table, and any farm animals that may be in the area.

RR: Please fill in... Me______.
Joe: drink good.

I was actually born a poor black woman in the mississippi delta. After joining the merchant marines, and the french foreign legion, I learned the ancient art of map reading and balloon animals while studying in the Appalachian mountains while trying to find the perfect recipe for moonshine. My past has helped me immensely in my short rally career, with no discernible skills and my jack-a-lope reflex's I am the epitome of a rally demi-god. Okay, really the only thing I really bring to the rally is comic relief and the projector so we can see all the pictures we've taken on the way up...

RR: Yummy?
Joe: My attorney has advised me not to answer that question pending the litigation.

RR: Please fill in.... Greg_____.
Joe: Greg... there is not enough space on the world wide web to fully explain and apologize for Mr. Fulcher. the one bit of advice I have for those who don't get the 'pleasure' of Greg's company on a regular basis, is that if you avoid eye contact you'll be safe. It also helps to do everything in your power to keep him sedated with alcohol and pork.

RR: Favorite Road Rally smell?
Joe: the sweet smell of victory... or pabst blue ribbon... I'm also a big fan of the smell of burning flesh as Pat tries to drunkenly juggle hot coals

RR: Red Sox?
Joe: Katie's a big fan. i usually have red socks when I get home from riding... red with blood.

RR: Food?
Joe: yes please?

RR: Cold water?
Joe: Only when mixed with the proper amount of hops and barely to produce beer.

RR: Packing?
Joe: if it was in NH I'd have a .40cal S&W subcompact hand gun strapped to my side to keep the other rally participants... but since we'll be in the great state of VT and I can't carry there i won't be packing.