Chief Detective Smitty

The Smitty is a shrimp detective.

The scene: a plate of shrimp. The Smitty: nosing up the air randomly (“something up, yo!”)

Once the nose finds its groove, the Smitty follows it in cool, hunkered down pursuit – his body an elaborate delivery system designed to support the needs of his nose.

This Mister moves the plate of shrimp. The Smitty turns, heads off as though he smells other bid’ness…

--only to sneak up onto the porch railing (all roundabout and circling back like) to come at that plate of shrimp from above!

Sneaky Smitty!

Beach Blanket Bingeing

Mister Smitty likes to clean!

In preparing the seasonal shift on the lanai to the “Winter Palace” format, This Mister took the seagrass mat down to the croquet pitch (between the Crack House and the Fire Pit) and bleached it (like ol’ Odysseus hosing down his killing floor of suitor gore).

Mr. Smitty immediately plopped himself down on the mat as I slathered the bleach. Perhaps he likes the smell? Perhaps it gets him high?

When I had to flip the mat over, he clung to it and flipped right over hisself. He got right back on it again and re-blissed himself.

Es-cat-ology

Mister Smitty, if you were having a dinner party, what 7 individuals would you invite?

Let’s see: my peeps (think there’s three these days), either one of The Misters (can’t tell ‘em apart, one’s as good as the other), you – for asking this question, someone from Legal, and this dead bird (as a snack).

Mister Smitty, how many lives did you have originally, and how many are left?

“Mao.”

And how many are left?

“Mao.”

Surf Smitty, USA

In the morning, Mr. Smitty likes to surf!

-- the waves of sunlight, I mean!

The East corner of our porch (now rearranged to its “Winter Palace” format) has a stripe of sunlight into which the Smee inserts himself and rides that swell.

Dude, this break is so cherry.

Dude, Mr. Smee, that set was like so totally awesome!

Dude, those barrels you – gnarly! or what?

I say, are you planning to “Hang 10,” My good smee?