So for some reason I have been struggling with this blog entry. It's not that I don't have anything to write about- I do- it's just that, well, most of my break can be encapsulated in this picture:
The blurry state of this picture is a good visual metaphor for my vacation. Note the beer & the hat I was drunk enough to be wearing.
To further illustrate this point: One of the perks of our condo was a large, analog wall clock (picture the kind of Pier 1 import that middle class white people would enjoy). My friend set it back to 5 pm every time he started a new drink.
He only made it past 7 twice.
(On a side note, I hope this picture portrays just how excellent that hat was. We found it in our garage at the condo, and of course immediately started to wear it around the kitchen. It was the perfect drunken accessory. J's tan fedora also got a lot of play (the dirty thing). I'd like to say it was the booze but I'm sure the same would have happened if we'd have been sober. That's just the kind of people we are).
To further explain, below I have labeled a picture of our fridge. Please take note of the booze-to-food ratio.
|That's 9-1 if you're a little slow on the uptake.|
In summary, while we did a lot of amazing things on vacation, most of them boiled down to us singing drunkenly along to Robyn while sitting in our kitchen eating carrot sticks and hummus.
There may have been skinny dipping, but I'm sure you're not interested in that so I won't go into details. There were also several beach-ware shops, all inexplicably run by Asian women. And one scruffy, dirty, sexy little hippie man. He and my friend A shared a moment during a conversation about double fisting.
I really do have to tell you the following story, though. Because while on vacation we went to Walmart. A lot.
As you can imagine, 8 people in one house need a lot of food, not to mention near daily beer runs. So while we had done an initial foray into Walmart (thanks again, Costco) we frequently found ourselves needing some essential thing we'd either forgotten to buy or had run out of. Since I'm really fucking lazy, I usually tried to avoid these trips. I did go on one trip with my friend A, however (A, if you're reading this, I want you to know that its dedicated just for you). I forget exactly what we had been looking for- I think he had to return a movie, and because I'm a fatty, I wanted some pie.
The fun started when we waited in line to return the movie. The line took forever, due to the fact that the balding saleslady was more interested in conversation than in doing her job. She also smelled like low tide in the nastiest way possible. Connected? Perhaps.
Anyways, we were standing in line when an old man came out of the bathrooms. He wasn't old old, maybe in his sixties or so, and seemed pretty unremarkable. What made him noticeable was the windshield wiper he was clutching in his hand as he emerged from the men's room. What made him memorable was the fact that he looked at us, adjusted the windshield wiper, and then began using it like a dowsing rod as he muttered his way past us and into the store.
And yes, I double checked with A to make sure it wasn't a B.O. induced hallucination.
It was soon after this encounter that the real magic happened.
For out there, somewhere, sits The Mountain. And lo, but from The Mountain doth come the parade of Tacky Tee Shirts.
First came Three Wolf Moon, and if you haven't read the Amazon review page for that shirt go read it right now. Right. Now. A sampling: "This item has wolves on it which makes it intrinsically sweet and worth 5 stars by itself, but once I tried it on, that's when the magic happened..."
You might be able to guess, but I love the Three Wolf Moon Tee shirt. I love it so much that I forget sometimes that people wear it seriously. Once, at a convention, I saw a thin, ponytailed man wearing one. Of course I sniggered at him then said, "Nice tee shirt!" with a little thumbs up to show that I got the joke. Unfortunately, he was the joke, and until that moment neither he nor I knew it. He walked away from our encounter very confused. I walked away impressed once again that there are people outside of Walmart who dress like that in their everyday lives.
Imagine my joy, then, when our epic Walmart trip yielded not only a Two Wolf Moon shirt for my friend but this wonderful gem for myself:
I dub it the 'Two Giraffe Moon' tee shirt. It was only available in XXL and higher.
I paid nine dollars for it, and consider it nine dollars well spent. This is perhaps my most hipster purchase ever. I only wish it were smaller so that the public could revel in my ironic genius. It's a thing of beauty. Look at the deep, soulful eyes of the giraffe, the poorly screen printed shadows, the almost-but-not-quite tie-died background. It even comes with The Mountain logo on the bottom right hand corner, just so you can be assured that what you are wearing is an original.
This tee shirt is truly amazing. Not only does it cover my girth, but I really feel that the giraffe print lends it a certain exotic flair. When people see me in this shirt, I know they will be wondering how one person can exude so much wild sex appeal, and will have trouble preventing themselves from launching at me like crazed Robert Pattinson fans.
Who knows what purchases are on the horizon now? Perhaps a Fashion Snuggie, or maybe a Slap Chop. I could use it to cut up leftovers for all the cats I'm sure to have in the future.
Over all, my vacation was pretty awesome. I got tan, I relaxed, and best of all I got myself a sexy, sexy tee shirt to help attract all the boys. Life is good.