The Curious Case of the Mystery Man and the Airport Shuttle

Sunday, December 28, 2014 | 0 Comment(s)

My wife and I set our alarms for 2:30am, out the door by 3:00, to make a 7:10 flight out of Logan airport.  It was a two-hour drive from our house to the Revere, MA Park & Ride that we had previously booked online.  Considering I am now on vacation, you know this isn't going to be some sob story about how my sleep schedule got screwed up by a direct flight to paradise.

The Park & Ride was not a one of those fluorescent light covered monstrosities that serves as a beacon of advertisement for larger car rental companies like Alamo or Budget.  With the wattage those puppies were putting out, the street lighting seemed quaint, like holiday decorations along the fringe of the real source of light.  Our Park & Ride was on a smallish corner lot, just a block from a major rotary.  It was not well lit.  It had a small sign that said Revere Park & Ride in white lettering.  

There was a small service center built into the corner of the open paved lot, and the whole place was surrounded by wire fencing with barbed wire that ran along the top. There was no "parking garage." It was all one level of exposed pavement, no stacking.  Old school.  My wife parked the car in one of the lined spots away from the busy intersection, and we gathered our belonging and made our way to dimly lit hut. It was now 5:00am. 

As we were just lifting our suitcases onto the sidewalk pavement, a middle-aged Asian man swerved his over-sized new-model Cadillac onto the pavement in front of us.  His window was down. 

"Is this the parking for the airport?," he asked.  His accent was pronounced, but besides the funny word placement, his English was almost flawless. 

Puppy Productivity

Friday, December 19, 2014 | 0 Comment(s)

Yesterday I went to a friends house to write.  I like to try out new locations in hopes that every novel (pun) place I whip out my laptop may be the elusive "perfect writing environment" I'm looking for.

It this particular instance, I chose the friend's house in question both because she's awesome and, at the moment, she and her family are caring for 7 vizslas and 2 goats.  Yes, they have a fenced in yard.

First the goats.  The goats live outside.  Goats will eat pretty much anything , and in this case they're primary function is to consume any and all poison ivy on the property.  Goats are the Honey Badgers of eating whatever.  They no give no fucks.  No fucks at all.  My friend's goats hop along the wooden railing along the outside of the porch so as to avoid being harassed by the multitude of dogs they occasionally share the yard with.

My friend has had two female vizslas since I met her years ago, Bounce and Fi.  About 6 months ago, Fi had puppies, and from that litter, they kept two of her girls (Kitty & Ms. Hudson).  About 2 months ago, Bounce had puppies. Seven more rugrats tooling around the house.  Two of those little boogers have already been adopted, leaving five soft sacks of puppy energy are still wiling around the house.

Sometimes you start with a group shot and end up with dog butt

What Am I Stupid or Something?

Wednesday, December 17, 2014 | 0 Comment(s)

Hey loyal readers.  This post is to direct you to my new guest post on! I have decided to *ahem* strongly suggest to parents that they  . . . chill the hell out.  I ask you all to remember me well.  When I started this project, I don't think this was the untimely demise I was expecting . . . but isn't that always the case.

PARENTS: You Gotta Chill The Hell OUT!  

I also voted for:  Parents Just Don't Understand

DJ Jazzy Jeff 4 Eva.

TBRARUMUD All-Stars: Am I Wasted?

Monday, December 15, 2014 | 0 Comment(s)

As I am missing the warm weather these days in the northeast, I thought a flashback to island time would be a nice change of pace:

Just an example of a "drunk girl on bar"
One of my old Boston roomies (we’ll call her V) lives down here on the island.  As the small world would have it, the new girl subletting the room in our then Cambridge apartment had just been living on the same island my family was building a house.  V’s moved back to the island and now I have a great playmate to take me out and get me into mischief whenever I can get down here.  (I should also briefly mention that, also by complete coincidence, mmf’s best friend from growing up in VT also lives down on the island.)  

This trip, I have had the pleasure of also getting to meet and spend time with V’s boyfriend (we’ll call him NH).  The only real pieces of knowledge you need about NH is that I like him, he has a fantastically mischievous smile, and he is a cook on the island.  And all the cooks/waitstaff/etc on island know each other.  I mention him in the blog only because he features prominently in this story.

Not Guilty Ya'll Got to Feel Me: How I'm Innocent but All of Black America is Guilty

Friday, December 5, 2014 | 0 Comment(s)

Today was my day in court.

If you recall, in late October I had a number of unpleasant run-in's with the Pō-Pō regarding my car's inspection sticker. In particular they took umbrage at its expired nature.  If you'd like to refamiliarize yourself with the case that they gave me, those pieces are here and here.

Court was scheduled for 9:30am, so I woke up early to reread my blog posts (after all, what's the point of writing recaps of life events if not to remind you of exactly what happened when you've forgotten over a month later).  Next, I went upstairs to craft the perfect court outfit -- I am soooo Elle Woods.

The choices I made in my dressing room this morning resonated inside me.  Every other morning I throw on a t-shirt, dark jeans, and a hoodie.  Maybe a vest on top.  No hoodie in my ensemble today, however.  Collared shirt, khakis, and a tie.  It should be mentioned that when I finally made it to court, I was amused to see three other guys waiting along with me who were ALL wearing the exact same semi-formal combination (down to the blue shirts).  The only difference between us was our individual tie choices, which it was clear was the product of a dearth of options all around.