Dear readers [population 0*],
I have been neglecting this blog. It’s mainly because I write all of the time for work, so on my “Things I want to do in the three-hour span of free time I have between when I get home at 8PM and go to bed at 11PM List,” musing hilariously about some bullshit or complaining bitterly about some other bullshit in the form of coherent sentences ain’t high priority. What is high priority, you ask? Dinner, Law & Order: SVU, and perhaps a beer or two.
Also, I have been BUSY (you should read that in your head as BIZ-ZAY, because that’s how I mean it. Attitude!). Busy with what?
Well, I was paroled from jail for a week to go to California for the first time and it was pretty awesome. We spent five days in Carmel/Monterey and then two days in San Francisco. Observations:
1. Whale watching is cool for about 15 fucking minutes and then it’s a waste of time. Oh, see that splash? That’s a whale. Oh, see that fin? That’s a whale. I didn’t see no motherfuckers jumping out of the water Free Willy-style (not to be confused with Big Wxillie style), and as far as I’m concerned, I want a refund. Do you think I rented this pair of binoculars so that I see NOTHING?
2. Carmel is owned by Clint Eastwood. Clint Eastwood is a resident and the former Mayor of Carmel and everywhere you go, there’s photos of him. Everything you go to is owned by him, including the golf course whose members pay $500,000 in fees A YEAR to play. The only thing I didn’t see there is a Clint Eastwood Mattress Store. If you live in Carmel, you should get on this. If only to use the tagline, “Go ahead, make my day-bed” as the advertising slogan.
3. Northern California is goddamned beautiful. I mean, really. Look at these rocks. Look at the water! We drove down the coast and I was like a stupid dog with my head out the window.
4. William Randolph Hearst was a dbag. Whenever we go on vacation, my father requires that we completely waste one entire day travelling to some stupid museum/house/shack/annex for some learning! When I was 10 years old, my father was forcing us to go to Thomas Edison’s house and I ate a whole bag of licorice and puked in the van and he STILL made me go on the stupid tour. Do you care that Edison had orange trees or a cot in his office so that he can take naps? NO, especially not when your shirt is covered in dried pink puke.
Then there was the time we went to Jamaica and my father had the brilliant idea that we should drive clear across the island on dirt fucking roads for 6 hours just to check out the river that Errol Flynn romanced ladies on back in 1200 BC or some bullshit. This time, we drove 3 hours to San Simeon to visit Hearst Castle, the estate of William Randolph Hearst. The drive down, admittedly, was beautiful—FOR THE FIRST FUCKING TWO HOURS. Then we get to San Simeon and there’s nowhere to go besides the Castle. We ate lunch at a gas station.
5. Sea Lions are NASTY. Listen, I love sea otters. If you tell me that sea otters aren’t the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, I will probably fight you.
But sea LIONS are DISGUSTING. I’m not an expert in biology or anything, but I’m pretty sure that at some point, a walrus and Lou Perlman had a baby, and that’s how we got sea lions. They lie around all day on a beach like fat slobs and they smell like four burning tires. GROSS.
6. Horseback riding on the beach = awesome. My father, brother, and I went horseback riding on Pebble Beach and it was spectacular. It didn’t even matter that the horse in front of me took a dump about 15 times or that it peed for so long that the road in front of me turned into a goddamned river.
All in all, it was great to finally have a real vacation, since the only places I’ve gone in the past two years are to Buffalo and Boston and I can assure you, those places do NOT count. If you get on a bus to get there, you're not going on vacation.
With warm regards,
*No, I take that back. I know for a FACT that Abi, Brittany, Jill, and TwinXL are still keeping up with the blog, even though I haven’t been.