Wednesday, August 18, 2010

CEMENT SHOES AND JIMMY FLOOS

Pickles has not only packed that gloch 9 but there are some cinder blocks that are completely suspect. I am so gonna get whacked this weekend. She has her army of Jimmy Floos (Fancy Flip Flops) but I am guessing they are for her. I'm already sitting here, typing from the closet wearing the pair of cement shoes she already put on me. How many blocks of cement does it take to kill your inner author?

Do you even know how many pounds of Salami it took for me to call the leg breakers off. That and some 40's of Colt 45. Pickles means business. She sent the 3 most recognizable fictional hit men to do the job. Damn, I'm flattered, sort of.

I've gotta get her whacked, and by that I mean wicked drunk. Maybe then she'll listen to me. Maybe then we can find the gusto to keep writing.

You all know about my meltdown, my all out postal, Rambo moment. I'm not as bad as I was last week, this I can assure you. But I ain't exactly back writing yet either.  I have seriously lost so much of the passion, zeal, kick ass moxy I had before. Little by little it left, then there was the "incident" last Thursday.

My hubby, as man of few words, looked at me and said, "You've been going non stop for over a year. You write, your write for others, you blog about writing... you need a break." 

Wow. Mens are smart sometimes. He ain't just thinking with his one eyed love me stick. He also reminds me that when I do get published he has a list of toys he'd like so I better get rested and get back to it. SOB!

Well, a break is coming! I am headed to the exotic island of the Wildwoods. A New Jersey escape like no other.

That's right bitches, I am going to the Jersey Shore! And before you even say it, NO. Not that Jersey Shore, no douche nozzles here thank you. Not fist pumps or beat the beats. I am going to the SOUTH Jersey Shore, the Philly part of Jersey.

It's my annual girls weekend with me chicas. About 7 of us go down and tear Jersey a new one, every year. We unwind, get wound up, party until one of us falls asleep on the deck or balcony. We've gone out in Hawaiian costumes, togas, Michael Jackson Beat it Jackets and sequins gloves, with six foot inflatable monkeys on our backs and even with a little inflatable red-headed man we named The Donger. The monkey's name is Chachi, in case you were wondering. We go absolutely crazy.

My friend TK, said in her Toga on the way to the pub, "Girls, I haven't been this drunk...." she stops stumbles a bit pondering her own question. Her blue eyes light up, a smile crosses her face,"since... last night!"


Yup. That's how we roll. We are the girls your mama warned you not to hang out with. This year it's an 80's weekend. I got my aqua net and teasing comb. Spandex shiny pants, a long t-shirt and wide elastic belt. I even have jelly bracelets. Now, no one else dresses up in Wildwood, we just do. Why? Why not? Who wants to be all boring and go out like normal peeps. We ain't normal. 

My mom found out about Chachi, all the way back in Philly from a friend who was down. He told her about his weekend down the shore and how this crazy chick walked into the bar with a 6 foot monkey on her back. Chachi was secured using dental floss, like a back pack. When I told my mom it was her beloved daughter, she laughed. I guess she wasn't surprised. But that's me. The goofy clown, the risk taker, not this person. This person who gives up. *SIGH*

Here I will find myself again, I know it. My characters, my stories take place at the Jersey Shore. Maybe this is what I need. Pickles needs this, Charli, I, will be in the passenger seat. No laptop.

This is for Lizz. Cause if she can't find herself. I will be wearing those Cement shoes and taking a dip in the Atlantic Ocean.

Check in on Sunday night to see what my fate is. Keep your fingers crosses, toes, legs, arms, tots, and bits. I'm gonna need it.

Oh, and AJ, if you thought the NY State Troopers were bad, wait til you meet the Wildwood Summer Rent-a-Cops. Bad ass mofos, I assure ye. They've confiscated many a backpack full of beer.

We me luck people!

5 comments:

  1. Have fun! And party like it's 1989!

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  2. I'm not crossing any borders this weekend. Uh, huh, no way. The hubby has forbidden it! LOL As if I'd listen to him!

    Nah, having a girls weekend over the border, 15 minutes from the town of Bobcaygeon, on Pigeon Lake, number 206, Lakeshore Dr, in Lakeview Estates, just a heads up to all the Canadians, doona come a knockin' as me crib will be bumpin!

    :-)

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  3. Peace out chicas! Wish me luck...

    ReplyDelete