You Might Be A Redneck If...

I've been mostly inactive at work recently. Very few experiments, lots of researching products and protocols, ordering reagents for new protocols, trying to figure out which line of microvascular endothelial cells to go with, arguing with Cell Signalling tech support to convince them that their antibody didn't work because it didn't work, not because we (specifically I) used it wrong. Trying out a fancy schmancy digital camera system which will enable us to get vastly more precise results...if I can get the sucker to WORK. It didn't help that I simulteneously trying out a new chemiluminescene reagent, one that requires far lower antibody concentrations than we use, so it didn't work either.

The only point of this is that it looks like I'm going to get to do more bench work again soon, and I'm glad, I don't like this desk job thing. Nor do I like training people, I'm not used to having to add someone else's "I can't find this antibody, where might it be?" to my own. That part will pass as the new associate finds her feet, and I'll get used to it as I've been here longer and find mine.

Now to justify my title.

You might be a redneck if you bring a gasoline-powered weed whacker on a camping trip.
You might be a redneck if you wear a cowboy hat with either an Iron Cross or a Confederate flag on the hatband.
You might be a redneck if you see a roadkill king snake as an opportunity to have an unusual meal and get a snakeskin hatband (for your cowboy hat) out of it as a bonus.

All of this was part of the Kern trip. Along with innertubing one day, followed by drinking at night, then hiking to a natural rock water-slide the next day, followed by drinking at night, followed by four guys (one-and-a-half rednecks and a whole halfwit) innertubing down the river by night wearing wetsuits and headlamps and being pursued by Park Rangers who were trying to enforce the river's curfew.

Who ever heard of a river having a curfew? Strange concept.

There's more...Shane threw vodka on the fire because his girlfriend wouldn't let him drink any more, the resulting fireball singed off a significant patch of leghair on both myself and Matt...Travis didn't have a whiny girlfriend with him this time, but still spent most of the time talking about a bunch of whiny girls he can't handle but just can't live without...Sharkie did a highly amusing impression of a dolphin having an orgasm (I have no idea how this came up in conversation)...Natalie threw twizzlers at people, and shoved a couple up Travis' nose for good luck...Sharkie's brother sat in his tent peeking out the zipper and sang the "meow mix" theme for no apparant reason...Shane and Sims rode a child-size motorcycle into town together at 2am and managed to get the 50cc engine to carry them at 35mph before they realised that neither of them could reach the brakes...

During all this Matt and I mostly sat back and watched with amusement. It would have been easy to get stressed out by all the chaos, but somehow it was just fun, because it wasn't happening to me, but around me. Plus there was messing about in the river and not worrying about the usual BS, that always makes a nice change.

The snake didn't get eaten in the end, Travis got bored with picking out the bones before cooking and gave up. He preserved the skin though.