As if Jimbo didn’t have enough to worry about, an eight-foot long alligator has shown up in the Chattahoochee River in Cobb County, Georgia - within half a mile of the Great Corporate Salt Mine’s former offices, and a mere ten miles from Chez Elisson.
“Boah, you not from around heah, are yew?”
A fisherman, one Nick Lawrimore, spotted the beast as he was getting ready to wade into the river. The alligator had its beady eyes on a two-foot carp when Lawrimore’s appearance caused him to submerge.
Alligators normally don’t inhabit the rivers this far north; it’s too cold for them to survive year-round. DNR officals are speculating that someone may have dropped this guy off in a local body of water - possibly when he was much smaller - and somehow he found his way to the Big River.
Reptiles like this don’t bother me much, mainly because I don’t spend a lot of time wading in the local riparian waterways. Hell, we got to watch a ten-foot crocodile swim by as we were enjoying an alfresco dinner last week at the Laguna Grill in Cancún. Trolling for table scraps and inebriated diners, perhaps. Jimbo would have had a farookin’ shit hemorrhage.
Guess who’s coming to dinner?
State officials plan to catch Mr. ’Gator and schlep him down to south Georgia. On the other hand, with a few well-placedbribes pecuniary donations, why not go the other way and bring him up to a more northerly part of the Chattahoochee - say, perhaps, in Helen? Now, that’d add some extra sparkle and excitement to the next Helen blogmeet...watching tubers and drunk bloggers play ’Gator Roulette in front of the Troll...
“Boah, you not from around heah, are yew?”
A fisherman, one Nick Lawrimore, spotted the beast as he was getting ready to wade into the river. The alligator had its beady eyes on a two-foot carp when Lawrimore’s appearance caused him to submerge.
Alligators normally don’t inhabit the rivers this far north; it’s too cold for them to survive year-round. DNR officals are speculating that someone may have dropped this guy off in a local body of water - possibly when he was much smaller - and somehow he found his way to the Big River.
Reptiles like this don’t bother me much, mainly because I don’t spend a lot of time wading in the local riparian waterways. Hell, we got to watch a ten-foot crocodile swim by as we were enjoying an alfresco dinner last week at the Laguna Grill in Cancún. Trolling for table scraps and inebriated diners, perhaps. Jimbo would have had a farookin’ shit hemorrhage.
Guess who’s coming to dinner?
State officials plan to catch Mr. ’Gator and schlep him down to south Georgia. On the other hand, with a few well-placed
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