Best. Day. Ever.

We returned home from four days of fun in the sun down in Florida on Tuesday. Boo to that is what I say. Boo to that indeed. It was a blast and I really feel like I accumulated some firsthand knowledge on how to survive on another planet, or at least in another state.

  1. When flying out of Logan International Airport (and probably any other airport), don’t leave your wallet in your back pocket before going through the Millimeter wave scanner. Because the TSA dude will say something to you like, “You got something in your back pocket, fuckface?”. Then he will call over another TSA’er and tell them, “I need ‘hands on’ this piece of shit, don’t be afraid to go elbow deep in him/her”. They will pull your pants down and fondle your junk while everyone in line points and laughs and all secretly wish that they could get some of that. Then they may rub your hands with some type of wand and place the wand it a machine. That machine will calculate the essence of your boy/girl sweat and spit out a report telling TSA what I already know. “This motherfucker is Aces, let him/her pass.”
  2. When you get into the terminal, don’t go to Dunkin’ Donuts before 5 am, because they aren’t open. Why would they be. It’s not like an international airport would deviate from the standard 9 to 5 workday. The line at Dunk’s was 120 people long at 4:50 in the morning. Naturally we just pretended we didn’t understand what “lines” were all about and just went to the front of it. Once someone took the time to explain “lines” to us, we went to the back and waited. All I’m saying is if the world really does run on Dunkin’ Donuts then the one at Terminal C in Logan International Airport needs to smarten the fuck up.

    The line at Dunkin' Donuts at 4:50 am

    The line at Dunkin’ Donuts at 4:50 am

  3. When people say, “Bill, you should definitely slather sunblock all over your pasty white self before you go swimming, you fucking goofball”, they aren’t necessarily being a dick, although it may feel like it at the time. But you should heed their advice, even if your name isn’t Bill. Because they are just trying to look out for your well-being. Also, when you do apply sunscreen to your tender boy/girl body while day-drinking on the Pon Tiki boat, make sure you don’t get distracted halfway through the application process by singing along to the Hall & Oates song Private Eyes. Because you’ll put the sunscreen down to do the clap-clap part of the song and then forget to continue protecting your delicate epidermis. You will wind up with a very half-badly burned boy/girl body. Which you will fully regret, man/lady.

    Yeah, it happens.

    Yeah, it happens.

  4. When flying on an airplane, nothing is more enjoyable than dozing off with your head against the window and then waking up during turbulence and realizing that you’re 35,000 feet in the air and you’re going to die. Seriously, why do we have to be that high, What is wrong with flying at 350 feet? It seems to me that you might have a better chance of surviving a plane crash if the plane is only about a football field off the ground. I know why….buildings and such, but still. I’m a decent flyer, or I mean I’m a decent airline passenger. I can’t actually “fly” at all. I think that has something to do with my not being a bird, but I ain’t no veterinarian or nothing like that, so don’t quote me to the federales on that one. I’m just saying that I can deal with a little bit of a bumpy ride. But whenever I’m in a plane that hits some real turbulence, it takes all I have not to scream out loud and cry like a fucking beautiful blue-eyed baby boy. I’ve almost broken my wife’s hand a few different times due to an overly aggressive squeeze on my part. I apologize, to my sweet baby lady Nicole. I know she’ll see this because I force her to read my words. She took a vow, she knew what she was getting into. It’s what loves got to do with it. When we were coming back from getting married in Curacao in 2007 we hit some serious turbulence on the final approach to Logan, and I was pretty sure we were going straight into Boston Harbor. That would totally suck because of all the tea that is still in the water from some big boat party they had a couple of hundred years ago . Oh, and also because of all the poop in there too.
  5. I quit smoking a while ago, but cigarettes are so much cheaper per pack in Florida than in Massachusetts, so naturally I smoked the whole time I was down there. I’m a savvy businessman if nothing else. I was making like a $4 profit on each pack of cigarettes I smoked. I made like twenty bucks, free and clear. That’s a pretty sweet deal if you ask me, or anybody else that doesn’t really understand Economics or Cancer. Don’t worry, I already quit again. At least until next vacation.

    Choose wisely, Drunky McStumblefuck. Image via Google

    Choose wisely, Drunky McStumblefuck.
    Image via Google

  6. When you go out and about day drinking, you need to be aware of your surroundings. Like, just because someone said that the bathroom at The Square Grouper is uni-sex doesn’t mean that it actually is. So you probably should put your penis and/or vagina away until we at least figure out if this is the mens room and/or ladies room. Hmmm, let’s see. Are there urinals on the wall or tampon dispensers? That’s usually a dead giveaway as to which gender bathroom you’re in. What is the color scheme? Ladies bathrooms usually have couches and baby changing tables in them and they have a nice decor, at least according to all of the spy-cam toilet videos that I watched in preparation for this post. I’m very thorough in my writing, as I consider myself to be a bit of a perfectionist. It’s a curse, and quite possibly a crime as well. A mens room is usually dirtier and has drawings of dicks along with graphic hand written reviews of your mothers wealth/lack of fellatio skills. At least according to every single bathroom I’ve ever been in during my entire forty-two years of existence on this earth, including my own. I’ve peed in a lot of different places in my life. I’m not trying to brag, I’m sure you’ve peed in a bunch of places too. Just ask yourself this question: When you were standing in line, were the other people in the line male or female? That is always one of the best ways to determine whose bathroom you are currently about to throw up in.

I hope that wherever your vacation takes you, that I have helped you get there safely and that you have fun.

And don’t forget to bring me something back this time, you selfish bitch/bastard!

16 responses »

  1. mollytopia says:

    I laugh out loud at every single one of your posts. Love love love your blog. And Nicole for reading all your words even though you almost break her hands on planes. Y’all are keepers.

  2. John says:

    Why you snobby turd. Entering my bar the square grouper without a shout out. Alas the mulitude of free cocktails you missed out on and potential for a boat ride to Tiger Wood’s humble abode will be enjoyed by others.

  3. Smaktakula says:

    I feel your pain in a lot of ways here. One, I despise pretty much everything about the flying experience, and airport security is no exception.

    I’m also an ex-smoker, but like you, I’ve become an ex-ex smoker in the right circumstances. It’s easier to go back to not smoking if you do your sinning in an unfamiliar environment. In my case, I’ve smoked again when I’ve traveled in Europe. It’s an opportunity to put the maxim “When in Rome” to good use and not have it be metaphorical.

    I also get irritated when people suggest sunblock to me, but for reasons different than yours. I’ve got all the coloring of a waterlogged corpse, so it’s possible for me to get a sunburn just thinking about a nice day. So when people tell me to remember sunblock, my irritation stems from the notion that they think I enjoy second-degree burns over 80% of my body.

    • I could never be on The Amazing Race. I couldn’t do all that flying, and waiting to fly. I can still smoke like a champ under the right circumstances. I’m really bad at applying sunscreen to myself. Like really bad. I always wind up with finger mark sunburn. It’s pathetic. I’m a grown fucking man!

  4. You’re a riot, Bill. I’m sorry that sunburn. That happens to me, too, when I hear that Hall & Oates song. I’m singing it right now. Now look what you did!

  5. Gee great, Bill. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and now I’m worrying about all the things I intended to put off until then. I never used to worry about travel, but now the slightest turbulence and my heart races. Skin cancer scare = sunscreen and worries. I’m on the downhill slide of the clock, and things look a little different from here. Nice laugh… thanks!

  6. denmother says:

    I’m so glad I’m not a dude, one that might forget his wallet in his back pocket. Holy shit.

  7. I’m envious that you had four days of fun. What’s that like?

    The NY area airports are just as bad as Logan. The TSA folks are one notch above troglodytes on the evolutionary scale, and as much as I want to call them out for their incompetence, I know it will land me on no-fly lists and/or cavity searches for the rest of my life.

  8. tracy fulks says:

    It’s what loves got to do with it.
    Beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the tags.

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