Wasting Away in Marco Island-Day 4

Our last full day in Florida. I gave up on trying to do homework by the pool and instead drank a lot. The wife was making up for lost time also by downing vodka and pineapple juice. The F’s were following suit and we were all feeling pretty good by the early afternoon.

We went back to our rooms late that afternoon and got ready for dinner. We went upstairs to meet up with the F’s and there was an unmistakable chill in the air. We find out there is something that appears to be a long hair on the floor of their bathroom. The hair doesn’t look like anything that could have belonged to anyone in our party. Mrs. F jumped to the conclusion that Mr. F had relations with a housekeeper in their bathroom. It’s a fairly ridiculous claim no matter how you slice it, and one that was fueled by an afternoon of drinking. At some point the wife and I decided to investigate the claim. The “hair” wasn’t a hair at all, it was a thread from someone’s clothing. We decided Mr. F probably had relations with a rag doll.
We went to a hibachi restaurant that evening. We shared a table with 4 other adults and one ill-behaved child. Also, this restaurant only had one chef so we had to wait for him to serve two other tables. Unfortunately, the food wasn’t worth the wait. Of course, the food would have had to be phenomenal to make up for the wait. We headed back to the hotel and called it a night as we had a shuttle picking us up at 6 to catch our flight home.
Nothing of interest on the way home except the shuttle driver was interested in seeing how fast we could get there. He kept it pegged right around 90 all the way there. He was of eastern European descent, so maybe he thought he was on the autobahn.
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Wasting away in Marco Island-Day 3

We awoke with a bit of a hangover and a vague recollection of the previous nights events. Some recollections were vague-er than others, like Mr. F forgetting about the pantsless episode of the previous night.

Since we figured the F’s wouldn’t be moving very fast, we decided to take a walk down the beach. Considering it was our 3rd day overlooking the beach, we thought it was about time we actually went to the beach. We strolled for awhile and picked up some shells before heading up to the F’s room for some breakfast/lunch. They had recovered nicely from the night before and were ready to hang out by the pool after eating. I passed on the pool and instead made a futile attempt to do some homework. I joined them at the pool after a couple hours with laptop in hand so I could continue to accomplish nothing.
We killed the afternoon and headed to an Italian restaurant called Da Vinci’s for dinner. Good food, no crazy karaoke singer, and great service. We took it easy after returning and opted to check out a movie from the front desk. We watched “I Love You Man” while Mrs. F faded off to sleep. It appeared that I wouldn’t wake up with a hangover the next morning.
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Wasting Away in Maro Island-Day 2

We slept in late in an effort to avoid a hangover. That, and we were awake for about 20 hours the previous day. We staggered out of bed around 10am and checked if the F’s were up. We headed up get breakfast (or brunch or lunch, depending on your point of view) and Mr. F made approximately enough food for 83 people. We ate while watching the Hawks flounder through an uninspired half of football against the Badgers. At halftime I started drinking, at which time the Hawks started waking up. I don’t mess with karma, so I started picking up the pace of my drinking. By the time the Hawks sealed a 20-10 victory I had a pretty nice buzz going.

The ladies had gone out for pedicures at halftime in the hopes of avoiding my crappy mood if the Hawks lost. After they returned we decided we needed to start drinking in earnest. We went to a bar called Dolphin Tiki first. It was a small local dive on the water. I didn’t realize any bar still had functioning rear projection TV’s before going there. We ordered some bar food and the wife proceeded to make a run at the world record for vodka and pineapple juice consumption. Since the bar was literally a hut on the boardwalk, the restrooms were about 50 yards away in a building. After a few beers I had to break the seal and I wondered over. The restroom was dark and there was no light switch to be found. I had to settle for leaving the door partially open so I wouldn’t piss all over myself or the floor. After I had relieved myself, I did a more thorough investigation on the lighting situation. I discovered the “light switch” was actually one of those cheap timers hotels use to make sure you don’t leave the hot tub on forever.
We left Dolphin Tiki before the wife could pass out. Our next stop was the Sand Bar. It also had a local, laid back feel. The three of us set out to catch up to the wife, while she slowed down and attempted to meet us somewhere in the middle. We had planned to stay for only a couple hours, but they had a band start around 9pm. I’m normally not a fan of bands as they tend to suck, as least that’s the case where I come from. The band was Silent Fury and they were really good. And that’s not just the beer talking. They played a lot of hard rock and metal like 311, Black Sabbath, Metallica and a lot of other current stuff that I can’t recall. One of the highlights for me was “Sweet Home Alabama” because the lead singer had his father (who’s also a musician) come up to sing lead vocals while the lead singer took over at bass. It fricking rocked. So if Silent Fury is ever in your neighborhood, check them out. They’re out of Syracuse and their website is silentfury.net. And no, they didn’t pay me to say that.
It was about 1:30 when we finally staggered out of the bar. The wife was the only person capable of driving so Mr. F relinquished the keys. I got in the front seat, the F’s slid into the back. That’s when Mr. F started using a lot of F words. Apparently Mrs. F had left a drink in the cup holder and he spilled it on himself. He pissed and moaned about having wet shorts, then a projectile flew over my shoulder and hit the windshield. It was his shorts. He rode the rest of the way to the resort sans shorts. We got there and he still didn’t want to put them on, so he carried them all the way to his room. And yes, there are pictures.
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Wasting away in Marco Island-Day 1

Just got back from Marco Island, still going through detox.

We left last Friday morning with Mr and Mrs. Fancypants (same couple as our last Vegas trip). The great thing about Iowa airports is you can get almost anywhere you want at anytime you want, as long as you like layovers and traveling at odd hours. Our flight left at 6AM from an airport an hour's drive away. The only people awake when we got up were meth addicts and hunters. And possibly meth-addicted hunters.

The flight was uneventful, except we had to haul ass to make our connection in Atlanta. We arrived at Fort Meyers Airport around noon and went to pick up the rental. Mr. and Mrs. F had there first minor disagreement of the trip about which SUV to pick. On the way to Marco, they got in their second argument about our room. The wife and I tried to make light of it, saying we'd stay in a dumpster or broom closet if necessary. Apparently we weren't guaranteed to have an gulf view and this pissed off Mr. F. It was becoming fairly obvious that we were overdue for a drink.
We grabbed lunch at the Snook Inn, home of the World Famous Salad Bar. What's world famous about it, you ask? Absolutely nothing. They did have a huge barrel of pickles which probably contained an excess of fecal matter. Maybe that's all it takes to be famous in Marco Island. I passed on the pickles and had a grouper sandwich. It was really good, but maybe I just think that because I was starving. Far all I know it was dropped in the pickle poop.
We reached our resort (after a stop to pick up some alcohol) and luckily we were both in gulf view rooms. We were 3 floors apart, but there were no scenes at the front desk. We made our way down to the pool and set up to soak in some rays. I'm not a big "soak up the rays" kind of guy, but I made a concerted effort to just relax and enjoy the weather. We stayed at the pool for a few hours before heading out for dinner.
We we to an Italian restaurant called Casa Mia, which means "whale's vagina." The food was great, I had a shrimp stuffed with crab meat over linguini. Unfortunately there was some live entertainment. A tone-deaf woman was signing karaoke to a bunch of songs from the '50s. It was like listening to an alley cat getting sodomized by a mountain goat. The best was she came over to our table and asked us how we liked the music. I came really close to telling her what I thought, but Mrs. F bailed me out and said it was good and she like the Shania Twain song. I'm not entirely sure she even did a Shania Twain song, but it got her away from our table before I could make an ass of myself. We stopped by the grocery store to pick up some breakfast food and some more alcohol before heading back to the hotel for several nightcaps.
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MTIAWWIFABIKOEATBNWTWTA-What's Eating Gilbert Grape

I'm not a big fan of Leonardo DiCaprio, but I have to admit he's really good in this movie. He's plays a mentally disabled adolescent (Arnie), and it almost seems like he's not acting...Johnny Depp plays his older brother (Gilbert) and he's also the primary breadwinner in the family.

There are several reasons why I like this movie. First, it's set in Iowa. Ok, so it doesn't cast Iowans in a very good light but we have to take whatever publicity we can get. Second, I love the part when Arnie goes apeshit when the town gets a Burger Barn (GILBERT, IT'S A BURGER BARN!!!). I also like that Gilbert's girlfriend is kind of a skank that only comes for the summer in her camper. The movie depicts Iowa as the mecca for cheap campers. There's a scene where dozens of crappy pull-behind campers are in a caravan en route to the great campgrounds of Iowa. I've lived here all my life and I can't imagine that ever happening.
I have a lot in common with Gilbert. He lit his house on fire, and I apparently attempted to light my house on fire when I was a toddler. We both have a soft spot for skanks. And we both have younger brothers that are mentally disabled.
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MTIAWWIFABIKOEATBNWTWTA-When Harry Met Sally

This movie is almost indefensible. On the surface, it would appear there is no reason I would waste any time watching When Harry Met Sally. It has no car chases, it's not terribly funny (just like every other romantic comedy), and there is zero nudity. It might be the gold standard of chick flicks. So why in the hell do I watch it?

I did a lot of soul searching about this one. Sure, I like Billy Crystal but there are an awful lot of his movies that I have no interest in. Exhibit A-City Slickers 2. In the end, I think there is only one reason I like this movie. Meg Ryan. She looks fantastic in this movie. So why did she choose to go full frontal nudity in that crappy movie "In the Cut" while dressing almost nunlike in When Harry Met Sally? By the time she did "In the Cut" she'd had entirely too much plastic surgery and looked like she belonged in a freak show. Seriously, if she'd allow herself to age gracefully she'd still look good. Now she frightens small children.
Hopefully admitting my crush on 30-year-old Meg Ryan allows me to keep my man card despite liking "When Harry Met Sally."
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Movies that I always watch when I'm flipping around but I'm kind of embarrassed about them because nobody wastes time watching them anymore

This might become a recurring post because it has such a catchy title. For short, I'll just refer to it as MTIAWWIFABIKOEATBNWTWTA. First up is a movie I watched a good chunk of over the weekend, Gross Pointe Blank.

This is a truly outstanding dark comedy. John Cusack plays Martin Blank who is professional killer, but he's starting to lose his taste for it. He returns home to his 10-year high school reunion and tries to re-kindle his relationship with Debbie (I forget her last name and I'm too lazy to look it up), played by Minnie Driver. There's a million reasons why I like this movie, but here's a few:
1. I like the idea of going my high school reunion and telling everyone I'm a professional killer, only to have none of them believe me.
2. Martin's home got bulldozed and replaced with a convenience store. I think I'd be ok with that. And his best friend from high school brokered the deal.
3. I might have a bit of a mancrush on John Cusack.
4. Martin kills a dude with a television.

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