la face de pulpo

Pirates are cool, especially ones with their faces covered with calamari. that davey jones is a real character.

Memorial Nonsense
• American flags
• Jim Lubin Jr.
• Jeeps
• Burgers
• Busch-Light
• Bonfires
• Boats
• Dogs
• Corn muffins
• Raw clams
• Mussels
• Dipping bread in sauce
• Lacrosse playoffs
• Little league baseball

All those words/phrases describe my Memorial Day Weekend.

That guy Pete is a son of a bitch!

We also went to Fire Island to hit up the bars in Ocean Bay Park. Whoever passed on this particular outing or didn't use it to its full potential is a real sucker. I feel that most people around these parts aren't familiar with Fire Island and Ocean Bay Park in particular. Well you better listen up and get with the times. Picture a beach, picture a half dozen bars and restaurants on the beach, picture a bunch of fun loving individuals, picture $1 beers. That is Fire Island.

So in OBP all you do is drink on the beach while catching some rays, walk a few steps to the bar, get ruthlessly drunk, steal leftover calamari and coronas off someone's table after they left, walk a few steps to another bar, get some sand between your toes (cause you're a true loser if you wear sneaks on Fire Island), yell at a kid named Pete, order chicken fingers and don't pay for them, be obnoxious to the bartenders, buy a few of these:

(note: the table taps we actually got were a lot larger and cost $10 each)

The best part of Fire Island is that what happens on Fire Island stays on Fire Island. So you will never know how much fun we actually had that night unless you were there with us drinking a couple of six-packs on the beach watching the heat lightning over the ocean.

And Seany still doesn't know why he woke up on the ferry home at 1am with his shirt completely soaked. We'll try to figure that out next time.

You know what I hate?
When people wear those gay blue-tooth headsets around town like they're an air traffic controller. Look those things are fine in the car, but you can take it off when you're buying your little latte bullshits or when you're watching your kid blow his little league game. Jerks.

Jimmy petted a pug one time in 2003

How do you spell couscous?

You know, that north African dish that sort of looks like pastina. It's delicious, but I'm not sure of the spelling. In any case, I highly suggest trying it.

The 2000's have been an interesting decade thus far
I have met some interesting people, seen some interesting places, had some interesting experiences therefore I claim this an interesting decade. I would like to elaborate on this using this blog as a medium to do so. There are many interesting anecdotes, both past and present, that I would like to share to prove my hypothesis a valid one. I will most likely do this in a near schizophrenic way (ie: not in order or in any form of sense)

Shopping makes me feel weird
I never realized how good of a writer Walt Whitman was until I read the outside facade of the shopping mall named after the famed Huntington native and legendary bi-curious poet. With his words of encouragement I delved into a world I have become to dread: the shopping mall.

I don't know if it has anything to do with the words of a bi-sexual that wrap the building, but I hate shopping. I say this in reference to clothes mainly, especially when I'm resorted to buying some article of clothing for a female for a gift. I would say that 1 in 3 people are perverts so when I'm in a women's clothing store innocently browsing for something my girlfriend would like, I feel like the store clerks think that I am that 1 in 3 person and I am buying women's clothing for myself. All I wanted was to get a pair of sandals for her, but a simple process turned into complete awkwardness.

For the record I would never enter Victoria's Secret or Claire's or go to that fake hair kiosk.

As soon as I walk into J.Crew I am surrounded by women's clothing and women shoppers. Awkwardness is immediately setting in. Not 3 minutes of innocent browsing passes by and a female store clerks asks if I need any help. "I'm not buying women underwear for myself I swear," I say in my head. What I really say is, "I'm looking for something for my girlfriend, but I'm not really sure what to get." As soon as I say this I know what the clerk is saying in her head, "Yeah and by 'girlfriend' you mean yourself and by 'not really sure' you mean a bra." "Flip-flops might be cool," I quickly tell her. She bought it and showed me the flip flops, but the whole time I kept thinking that she and all her other female clerk buddies were eyeing me as the 1 in 3 pervert who likes to wear bras and women's thongs.

She then went on to say, "We also have some nice swimwear," and something else but I lost her once she said swimwear because she pointed to the bikinis I completely thought that she was onto my game, when I had no game going on to begin with. "No, I don't go there, flip-flops will do" I said to her.

Long story short, I got a pair of sandals and a small purse with a lobster on it for her. I highly doubt that I will ever be able to step foot into a women's clothing section of any store and not feel like a complete pervert. I'm totally not though, Walt Whitman was.

Stores that I like to browse in
• Music stores
• Book stores
• Electronic stores
• Liquor stores
• Convenient stores

I used to have another blog
It was from sophmore year and it was pretty humorous, at least to me. Here is an entry:

International House of Pancakes

We had an early family breakfast this morning at the IHOP of Poughkeepsie. Eating pancakes is more important than going to economics class. So as we were walking up to the glass doors of this pancake palace, we noticed a party of Poughkeepsie natives (of about our age) on the other side. They were all sporting their Tims, baggy jeans, and straight-brim baseball hats. There's no problem here except one is leaning with his back against the door. No one really wanted to open the door, fearing the consequences of this kid falling on his back. We didn't want to start any violent conflict with this kid and his friends. Violence has no place in IHOP. So Perry took the initiative to open the door. We all held our collective breath as Perry pulled the handle. The kid fell back a little, Perry said a quick sorry. There was no beef. I had the banana nut pancakes.

I think I may re-post verious entries from that blog. Blog is a funny word. It sounds like blob, which was a creepy movie and a fun school yard game.

Well,
I guess this is a good place to start. Memorial Day weekend starts tomorrow, so there shall be anecdotes galore to start off summer 2007. There's also seven years of complete nonsense to write about as well.

Enjoy the sun and fuck sharks