Palin and Me: Too much hot-stuff? Palin's got the remedy. Episode 5.

So Todd, Sarita, the kids and my Inuit cousins and I decided to head out and catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights.

Being a city kid myself, I had no idea what these Canadian-Accented White Americans were trying to drag me into--for a split second I thought it'd be like the LSD influenced conferences of The Burning Man Project, not to be confused with the man-eating ways of the Wickerman which, might I add, seems like what this country would come to if we let the Northern Californians have their way with our government.

'Cause it starts with the weed-clubs, and ends at radical feminism. What could possibly be the next sensical step? A bunch of radical feminists high off the ganja with the munchies, no more caribou to slap into other dimensions, and so they decide to trap men in log-pyramids and cook them alive. Sounds like a liberal conspiracy to me.

In either case, we slapped the huskies onto the sled and traveled Northerly until the sky started changing colors. I thought one of my cousins slipped the Amanita muscaria mushroom into my salted snow-cone.

What I thought to be a product of the collision of charged particles from Earth's magnetosphere, mostly electrons but also protons and heavier particles, colliding with the troposphere was just my mind hallucinating craziness. It was actually charged particles from the magnetosphere colliding with the ionosphere. Ooooooooh, I said aloud.

Not in understanding, but in pain, the hot sauce from the deep fried caribou was catching up, I could feel my intestines disintegrating, which meant my anus was soon to follow. Luckily, Palin and Co. had the perfect remedy: a tea of blackberry roots and the boiled inner-bark of dog wood.

Crazy Alaskans and their ancient wisdom.

Full collection of my Non-non-fiction documentation with Sarah Palin and the family here.