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The One Where I Don't Deliver The Goods

2003-07-13 - 9:54 p.m.

Mood: Foul, but not as foul as I could/should be

Listening to: Liam Lynch, Talking Heads, The Band, Radiohead

Quote: "I hate it when I have a buffalo and someone steals it from me!" - Dottie

Hello? Hello? Are you there? I cannae hear ya! I cannae hear ya! Oh man. That is some funny shit. Funny funny shit. Even though only Tim and Peter get it. But I donít care.

So howíve you been? Iíve been great. Some might even say great. Great even. Iíve been meaning to write an entry for a catís age. Some might say a Chef Chen Kenichiís age. I wouldnít say that. Iím just saying that some would. So yeah. I originally intended to write this when I first got back from Boothbay. But that didnít work. Which is annoying because it was all still fresh in my head then and I had lots oí pics from Boothbay to share. Well, I mean I still have the pics to share. But I didnít think Liz would drive to California before I managed to get the entry up. And since she called me from Arizona last Sunday, barring an explosion of falling rocks, I fear they have already gotten to California and are already establishing themselves in Hawaii. So yeah, I will explain away Boothbay hi-jinx and some pictures for good measure. Iím good like that.

There was lots of days in the beginning of this month that I wanted to write an entry too. It was Brettís birthday on the 1st, the United States on the 4th and Brooke on the 5th. They always come in threes. Itís true! Because the next set of three was Hannah on the 7th, Roy on the 11th, and Tim Curtis today, the 13th! Sort of like Gregory Peck, Strom Thurmond and Katherine Hepburn. But thatís deathdays. Not birthdays. Some might say they always come in ďtwoís of BuddysíĒ Like Buddy Hackett and Buddy Ebsen. I wouldnít say that. But some would. I do know that Buddy Shoemaker should watch his back though. Someoneís on a Buddy killiní spree and they wonít rest until every Buddy is dead. Hell, if I were Coty, Iíd start referring to people as ďpalĒ for a little while. Wait . . . weird. I saw Buddy Shoemaker this weekend! But Iíll get to that little morsel far later. Far later. As in the next entry or the entry after that. Did I already mention that I'm gonna write several entries here in a row? Did I already mention how great things were?

Before I focus on other things, I would be remiss if I did not call your attention to the good folks at GoJustinGo! And by "good folks", I mean Justin. Scroll down two or three entries (past the naked men and the Terminator 3 poster) to the June 29th entry. It was on that hallowed date that GoJustinGo celebrated his second anniversary on the internet and yours truly wrote the introduction for this oh-so-special event! I'm still tingling about it 2 weeks later. Watch this spot for some special, and exclusive Justin goodness in the near future! That's right friends, Justin himself will be stopping by in a few entries for some truly magical stuff. And by "truly magical" I mean a hilarious interview. (No pressure now Justin!)

But instead of zeroing in on how incredibly great and super awesome everything has been, I will tell the story of going to Boothbay. It was what seems like an eternity ago. Ages even. Ben (who some of you know as my landlord) and I drove up to Boothbay Harbor (though in actuality Southport Island) for ďLizís Going Away To Hawaii PartyĒ. It really lived up to its name. Since the next day, sure enough, Liz left to go away to Hawaii. Remember last summer, when we went up to Boothbay ? That was fun wasnít it? Yeah. Anyway. So we went up again. And while Ben didnít shove any seat belts up his ass and the dearly departed Abby, Jon, and Coty couldnít join us like last summer, we still had fun. We traded Abby, Jon, and Coty for Bill (poor guy, he had to do the work of 3 people! And one of them was Armenian!) Marco still made it, with Bill, despite some corrupt directions from Liz, and Courtney, of the ďCourtney I met in Boston the last time I went down thereĒ Courtney was there with her boyfriend Rob. Oh Rob. He was hippie sometimes. But sometimes he wasnít. When he was busy being raised by hoboís in Japan. I know, I know. A nickel. Oh yes! Plus there were lots of Lizís other friends from Boothbay that we didnít know! Hooray!

Yeah. So I tried to get a little less loaded than I did last year. ďLast yearĒ as in ďwhen I puked lobster remains all over Lizís lawn.Ē It didnít work out too well. I mean, I didnít puke Ė that was Benís job Ė but I got pretty drunk and quick. Some of Lizís friends, some territorial, some not as much, came over and we all drank amidst the piles and piles of People Magazine. This summerís Ben & J.Lo were Fucktard and Cocksmoker Ė yup, Ashton & Demi. And if you hadnít already heard, they are my new archenemies. Seriously. I want them to both get eaten by giant unidentifiable gelatinous blobs off the coast of Chile.

ďIím coming for you Ashton! And Iím coming for the 13% of you that isnít plastic Demi!Ē

Ok. So yeah. Boothbay still? Ok. I wish I wrote this back then. I would have definitely made Rob the main character with his wacky hi-jinxery stories about dogs and hobos and ninjas and hitchhiking and glass blowing and cotton fields. But it all seems so long ago now. Anyway. One of Lizís friends, Jon, who I managed to make very angry with me very early on, because I just have that magic affect on people, managed to procure a boat for us all to drink on and have a grand olí time crusing under the infamous swing bridge while imbibing on more beer than we should have. Would you like to see a picture of us on the boat?! That. That I can do.

Ben, Bill, Courtney, Marco (in a jacket of Lizís far too small for him) and the back of Jonís head - the odd thing here, is that there were like 10 more people on the boat and I have no clue where they were hiding when this picture was taken. Oh well.

Want another picture? How about . . . oh, I donít know Ė a picture of the sunset in Boothbay taken from the boat?! Well, I aim to please:

How about yet another picture of Boothbay because I donít know what else to say? Sounds good!

Marco, Liz, Ben and Bill -- Ok. Not the best picture ever taken. Thatís for sure. And I swear to God that we werenít all as constipated as this picture makes everyone look. Ok. I guess it really only makes Liz look constipated.

Yeah. I guess I had a slight altercation with some BBH kid while Ben and I were in the middle of this marathon(er) run on Beirut. He took the CD I had made for Liz out of the boombox while it was still playing. While it was still playing. While it was still playing TALKING HEADS. I thought Ben was going to tackle me when he saw it happen just because he was scared Iíd go all Larry Smith on everyoneís asses and start flipping tables like I was looking for so many chocolate milks. I didnít. Instead I had even more beer and ate a hot dog. Then I fell into some bushes and prickers all over me. Then I went into the room that used to house the apple with wings that tormented Coty and I last year and I promptly passed out and was the first in bed. I suck. But not as bad as Ben. Because while Ben stayed up later than me, he also puked all over the carpet in his sleep. And didnít EVEN WAKE UP WHEN HE WAS PUKING. Miss Leibson warned us that if we didnít turn Ben on to his side then he could choke on his own puke and die. Well, Miss Leibson was merely a figment of my imagination and nobody cared enough to flip Ben to his side. He just happened to do it on his own. You win some you lose some. And when he woke up he wondered who puked next to him while he slept. Oh that Ben, where he wonít unknowingly puke.

Then what happened? Well. We cleaned up. We took pictures. Liz refused to believe she was actually leaving and we all drove home through that wonderful land of merriment known as Wisscasset. We had nice weather and real good time. And it's not that I don't see us visiting Liz again anytime soon . . . but, well . . . Hawaii's a FAR way away. Just saying is all.

I didnít do a very good job of showing how fun Boothbay was. But it was. I promise. If anything, it was the very fun calm before the very un-fun storm.

Itís been real,

Drumstick

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