Master Bastard



Editor's note: Prof. Ted Gunderson is a world renowned Cryptozoologist, cuisinier, huntsman, fundamentalist christian and vitriolic Republican. His journal of political thought and mythical cuisine is published out of his garage.

 Semonorom, Mondulkiri, Cambodia - It has been months since I first lost the trail of the elusive Amy Winehorse (Equus crapula eructo).  After observing the beast's horrifying mating habits for a continuous 36 hour period, I could no longer maintain consciousness.  I passed out, face down in my camo blind.  When I awoke hours later, I found my camp had been raided by the very creatures with which she was rutting; filthy fucking Hobos! (Homo vulgivagus).  The reeking Hobos had robbed me of my film equipment, camping gear, booze and dignity.  At least I still had my gun.  It only took a couple minutes of vigorous pistol whipping for one of the Hobos to give me the information I needed.

Between spitting out teeth and coughing up blood, the Hobo told me that the Winehorse had finished her Annual Autumn Hobo Orgy only a mere two hours before I awoke.  He pointed a broken finger to the northwest.  I gathered what gear remained and sprinted up the street, hoping to catch up to my quarry.  After days of wandering, I knew the trail was lost.

I scoured every seedy bar, strip joint, crack shack, booze barn, glory hole and shit box in North America and Europe.  I found absolutely no evidence of the Winehorse.  Never has she strayed so far from her natural habitat.  I knew I would have to use unconventional means to find the Winehorse.

I searched the Internet and chased paper trails studying the fluctuations of the international distribution of Everclear Grain Alcohol.  After weeks of study I finally had some fucking results!  The sale of Everclear had jumped 200% in the last 2 months in a small city in Cambodia.  I booked a flight to southeast Asia immediately.

After several days of travel, I arrived in the outskirts of Semonorom.  There was evidence of the Winehorse everywhere.  There was horse dung on every surface and empty Everclear bottles littered the ground.  Terrified, the villagers had boarded themselves into their shacks.  I could hear them whimpering in fear en masse.  I was ecstatic. 

I slowly and carefully set up my camp.  I see that the Winehorse still has several cases of Everclear.  She will most likely not migrate onward until the booze runs out.  I should have several days of exceptional observation.  I'm glad I brought all of these rations.  I hope those villagers have something to eat.  At least they have each other.
Ciao and Godspeed -Prof. T. Gunderson