Aloha and fon-dieux!
Julia and I took a vacation this weekend to celebrate our 3rd anniversary (which was 5/23), and we rented a cute little Guatemalan-decorated cabin near Mansfield Dam. We went lake swimming, we ate great food, we inhaled tons of second-hand cigarette smoke and exhaust fumes from the 17 bajillion bikers surrounding us (for the Republic of Texas Bike Rally). Most of all, we really had a great time! The cabin was fantastic (Lost Parrot Cabins, by the way), and I highly recommend them to any of you who have the opportunity for a mini-vacation in the future. Julia and I were able to relax, dog free, for they were kenneled (and they were given BATHS before we picked 'em up, too! Wow!), and we found a bunch of places that we want to go visit again. Generally, good times were had by all.
However (and dad, though you did participate in the rally, you and I well know that you are not part of the group I'm about to describe), I do wish that I could give one gigantic collective knee in the crotch to all of the middle-aged, upper-middle-incomed, fifty-thousand-dollar-Harley-ridin' poseurs that believe, just because they wear the costume, they have the privelege...or rather, the responsibility, to behave like deranged backwater hicks - specifically, to go to a nice restaurant wearing boots, leather chaps, no shirt, a do-rag with sunglasses wedged over it, with three lit cigarettes in each hand and an attitude like feral 13-year-olds with as-yet-unidentified STDs - and sit next to families with small children, wafting second-hand smoke combined with carefully sculpted body odors, emitting just-dredged-up-from-the-port-a-potty humor whilst trading tales of revving their engines at 2am in their hotel parking lots with other idiots who recently purchased their badass personas, too.
Okay - I vented. Other than those schmucks, though, this weekend was terrific, and I don't wanna go back to work. It's so late now, however, that I actually have to go to work today, so I'm a-goin' ta bed.
G'night and sweet pickles!
Buenos Dias, Sam. I am gald you and Julietta had a good time on your mini-vacay. Sorry about the bikers. If only Ghost Rider lived in this part of town, he could rid you of those pesky wanna-be's.
ReplyDeletePossibly, though I bet his flaming head has a stink all its own.
ReplyDeleteI frequently thought of [fill in 80s movie here], when [fill in main character of said 80s movie here] knocked over a long row of parked motorcycles, and then had to hide in the [fill in hiding place from said 80s movie here] the dodge the angry bikers.
Karate Kid.
ReplyDeleteDaniel-son.
Shower Costume.
I was thinking of Pee-Wee Herman in the "Tequila!" scene, but the shower costume may win.
ReplyDeleteAlso, that last comment made me decide to name my facial stubbery.
I now call it...The Macchio.
I agree with you Sam - I am not a fan of bikers who come into town for this rally. They act like they are the COOLEST and it makes me avoid public areas in Austin. And I love austin!
ReplyDeleteI don't have a problem with the socially-aware bikers - it's the stinky loud ones that I could, without remorse, launch into deep space.
ReplyDeleteHilary! I miss you, girl! Sorry I've been stealing your hubby away for the golfings...no. Okay, maybe a little.
We need to go do something all together again! Movie night! Dinner! Inline skating! Archery! Cooking homemade crystal meth!
I've heard of this thing called "ghost riding the whip" that all the kids these days seem into. Here's the deal:
We all pile into Ryan's VW, get it rolling down Duval, then the four of us get out and dance the Cabbage Patch next to the car as it rolls...or, umm...as it ghost rides the whip.
We'd need some loud music with lots of bass, I suppose. I'm thinkin' some Janet Jackson "Black Cat" at top volume. I dunno...could be fun.