The big wave competition Mavericks was held last weekend. The waves at this break near Half Moon Bay in Northern California are absurdly large, 25 to 50 feet. This year it wasn’t just the surfers taking them on: “bone-crushing” rogue waves washed over the seawalls and swamped spectators. “It just came out of nowhere and wiped us all out,” said Pamela Massette of Corte Madera.
Sunday night I was hanging with friends, watching the NBA Allstar game, when an offer was made. A woman arrived at halftime to have fun with my friend. He offered to pay for me to have fun with her first. On the television Shakira was performing “She Wolf” at Cowboys Stadium, in Dallas. A highlight of Cowboys Stadium is its gigantic center-hung high-definition television screen, the largest in the world, sometimes referred to as “Jerry-Tron,” a 160-by-72-foot (49 by 22 m), 175-foot (53.34m) diagonal, 11,520-square-foot (1,070 m2), scoreboard. The young woman arrived and I introduced myself, and made polite, if uncomfortable, conversation. My friend pushed her towards me saying, “This guy hasn’t had fun in five years, do you think you can get him hot?” She said yes, definitely. “Whoa whoa whoa,” I said, “I didn’t wait five years to have sex with a HOOKER!”
Wednesday night is Fry-Day at Lenny and Joe’s Fish Tale. Despite my best intentions, I ordered a half dozen oysters, a cheeseburger, and the all-you-can-eat fried catfish. The couple at the next table over were elderly and obese, the woman a pile of mashed potatoes with gray hair and spectacles. Her husband looked like an off-duty Santa Claus with wooly mutton chops, a big belly, and suspenders. The waitress doted on them. “When you get the time hun, some more lemon and another piece of catfish,” said Santa. “Another piece of catfish. More tartar. More lemon. More catfish please. Lemon. Tartar. Catfish. Catfish. Catfish…” By the time I finished my dinner and the waitress stopped by to see if I wanted seconds, I said no thanks. In the parking lot, waiting for the car to warm up, I asked my aunt the difference between her and I and that couple. “Four hundred pounds?” my aunt asked. No, I said, the difference is they have someone to sleep with at night.
I am mostly relieved to not have to look at the egg yolk kiss thing in the previous post anymore.
But I am also a touch disgusted by the 3rarm’s wildness. In the wilderness there is no disgust, however, and that is where I aim to dwell. 3rdarm, may you snuggle into the night!
Snuggle with Roly Poly or me…leave the hookers alone!!!!!