Wordsmoker

I like the way you think, sort of like marathon carbo loading before the big night of looting.

Oh also? My return flight is the next morning and I will be measuring the success of the evening by whether or not I’m in such bad shape that they don’t let me on the plane.

So everyone’s coming on vacation with me? Funsies! You are all up to date with your yellow fever vaccinations, right?

@ BJonston:
This New Yorker would put her money on Rome.

@ fuldis closure:
I’m down. But while we’re doing a Wordsmoker retreat wish list, I’d like to throw Iceland into the mix. 24 hours of sunlight, the bars are almost always open, and a soak in the hot springs the next morning takes the pain away. Plus, it’s only a 4ish hour flight from New York. Think about it.

So hi, Floridians. I’m going to talk about something really boring now, like the weather. My mother keeps telling me how nice the weather is right now and how I should pack some “dungarees” and a sweater in case I’m chilly from the air conditioning, but I think she’s full of shit. Every time I land in Florida and the airport doors open, my glasses fog up from a wall of heat and humidity and my hair turns from a smooth, silky mane into the biggest Jewfro in the world. Is there some sort of state law that requires each Florida resident to lure a certain number of tourists to the Sunshine State with the promise of beautiful weather? Or is it just some sick joke you all like to play on us Northerners?

@ Blix:
Touché. They’re trying to lure me down there with the promise of perfect weather, no income tax, and beachfront mansions for the price of a one bedroom apartment in a transitional neighborhood in Manhattan, but I’m not falling for it.

@ GeodeJane:
First of all, yay, more looters! There’s strength in numbers so I hope you guys will be there. Bring weapons in case Chillbear forgets his taser at the bar. Second of all, eew, nobody wants to see nekkid Canadian shuffleboarding. My relatives are so fully clothed that I’m being whisked straight from the airport to the mall with my mother who will spend the rest of the day saying various passive-aggressive things like, “Is that what they’re wearing these days?” “Well, if you think it looks good, then who am I to judge,” and “I wouldn’t wear that, but you’re twenty years younger so I guess you can get away with it.”

That’s a tall order, but I think we can pull it off. To prepare, I’ve already started drinking in the hotel lobby and there’s a bottle of champagne chilling up in the room. Also, I don’t know why you all complain about Florida so much, the ocean is really quite pretty. So maybe get a home on the ocean and you’ll be happier?

For the record, me, drunk? Already there. So far this is the best meet-up ever!

I’m happy to report that a good time was had by all (I think) and I may still be a wee bit drunk this morning which is kind of fun. Not sure why there was a pillow in my bathtub or goldfish in my bed, but I assume it had something to do with looting. Thanks for being such good hosts and hostesses, Florida peeps!