Valkyries in the Desert by Bad Irving There I was, bemoaning all the adventures my Behavior buddies had experienced in the last few weeks. I go a hold of myself (There you guys go again! Not like that!) and said "Bad you can't sit around feeling bad (Ok, you guys were right, just back off) You have got to get out and see the world." I had a point. So, with little adieu I, and the significant other, hopped into the trusty 1946 jeep and were off. Ah, June and the Mojave Desert. What a beautiful time of year. Just you and miles and miles of open sky. The desert stretches out before you as an endless sea. The land is a light sandy brown and the sky a deep vibrant blue. Mile after mile passes easily beneath the wheels of the trusty jeep. The vibrations add a very much enjoyable jiggle to my passenger's chest as we drive. Every so often a rabbit will bound out for some sage brush, then a short, but fun chase ensues as the rabbit is pursued cross country. The rabbit always wins, but the chase in the jeep is always enjoyable and challenging. Then its down one arroyo after another. Miles and miles from the beaten trail. Of course you must eventually come across Death Valley. A quaint spot that nobody in the 19th century actually died in. Nope, they died right after they got out of it, after traveling its vast expanse without water. From scenic Death Valley we turn southwest and head off into the vast American wilderness. First one dry lake and then another. You pass the stage coach stop of the 1890's with the still fresh graffiti, of the 1890's, on the rocks. You go by places where Indians during the last ice age ground corn next to a dry lake. You can see rock drawings from the same Indians. You see an old Tank. You see an A-10 coming in for a strafing run. YOU SEE AN A-10 COMING IN FOR A STRAFING RUN? Crap, did it again, blundered onto Leach Lake Bombing Range on the north side of Fort Irwin. Don't you just hate it when those things happen? Don't you also just hate it when your candy blue 1946 jeep is mistaken by some jet jockey to be an olive drab burned out M-46 target tank? I can tell you I DO! It was pedal to the metal time and that old four banger engine roared while the jeep pert near jumped, all four wheels screamed while gaining speed. It wasn't two shakes of a coyotes tail before we hit a draw, and our errant jet jockey was deprived of his MOVING target. (Maybe he figured out, burned out target tanks don't move?). I laughed softly as I realized that yet again the USAF had failed to get me. To this day I still don't understand why they are after me? I started laughing out loud while the significant other was crying. My laughing stopped when I saw my jeep was crying too. This was very perplexing, jeeps don't cry. But, right there by the headlights tears were flowing. Tears? I tasted them, yea, salty but kind of a greasy taste, you know like anti-freeze. Yea, anti-freeze! The USAF missed, but the Mojave hadn't, and a rock had been thrown through the radiator during our run for cover. Great, we were over 50 miles from the nearest road and it was 120 degrees in the shade. Lucky us, we were in the shade. Even if we made the 50 miles to the road, that was just an auxiliary road and not high traffic. It was a three day walk to that road, it might be a couple of days to get picked up. This was shaping up to be a bad time for Bad. To show my solidarity with the significant other and my jeep, I sat down and cried with them. To make the day just dandy, a thunder head cloud mass appeared to the east. Great stuck down in a draw, and there is now a potential flash flood on the way. Well, at least the jeep didn't weigh much, it wasn't much of a grade, but crap, you just don't want to push a jeep when its 120 degrees out! On the other hand, I wasn't going to let my jeep get sucked down a wash by a flash flood. That level of effort in that kind of heat does not do your sense a lot of good. By the time we got the jeep to high ground, the thunder head was on top of us, and I was hearing music. Not harps, but rather Wagner, "Ride of the Valkyries" to be precise. Then there before me there landed a Valkyrie. Great besides audio hallucinations I had visual hallucinations as well. What could I do? "Nice traveling music." I said "I am Diana the Valkyrie. You are in trouble." she said. "Yes, I have a blown radiator and a blown mind." I replied. "Your radiator shall be as it was. Your mind, well, sorry I am just a Valkyrie." said Diana. She then took the tip of her spear and inserted it into my radiator. There were sparks and lightning bolts, the metal twisted and squealed. The hole in the radiator vanished. "That is amazing! Where, oh where does such power come from?" I asked. "Its very easy. If you want to see women of strength. If you want to see and read the tales of such, just come to my website to learn all about Diana the Valkyrie and her kinds dealing with mortal men." said Diana. "Thank you. But, well, a radiator without fluid is going to leave us stranded as well." I said trying not to be ungrateful. "You are right. Fortunately, I run another website called ladybumps, that is going to help you out." said Diana and then she vanished to the tune of "Ride of the Valkyries". I wondered what she meant by that when my significant other squealed. I thought that was odd, but maybe it was a rattler or something. I spun around ready to draw down on the varmint and saw the significant other grabbing frantically at her chest. Then her hands were being pushed rapidly back. Her shirt was inflating. She started screaming about get it off. It took me a while to figure out, she meant her bra. I never did need a second invite to do that, but this was weird. By the time we got her shirt off it was plain that her A cup bra wasn't up to DD cup duty and it let go with a loud twang. Her breasts now rapidly expanded, larger and larger. She sat down in the jeep. Her breasts grew out and over the windshield that was tied down to the hood. She grew larger and larger. There aren't sizes to explain how big she was getting and then it stopped. Just for a minute though. She looked at me and said this wasn't good, and then they started swelling and stretching. She started yelling they hurt, and her nipples turned brown. About the time it looked like there were two big pink bean bag chairs on the hood of the jeep they stopped expanding. She just lay there moaning about the pain and how she felt like they were going to explode. I was a little slow, but I figured it out. I maneuvered her to the front of the jeep and got the windshield and hood up. There I positioned a nipple over the radiator cap. I grabbed the base of her breast and started a constant pressure down and towards the nipple. By the time I got there a full stream of milk was spurting into the radiator and her breast was decreasing in size. First one breast and then the other. About the time they both hit an A cup in size, the radiator was filled to capacity. We got in the jeep and headed home. With all that milk in the radiator, that jeep purred like a kitten. Now, if you need a strong women, you need to get over to Diana the Valkyrie at http://www.thevalkyrie.com/main.html or, if you need some attention on the breast size front, you need to go to Ladybumps at http://www.ladybumps.com/ . I know both the places helped my life. Why don't you go see what they can do for yours? While you're there say hello to Diana, she can really provide you with help when you need it. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com