Per your suggestion, I've been drinking Plymouth. Great gin. Much tastier than Boodles, though any port in a storm. Especially a port that needs a little fixing up, right? A red-eyed, pale-skinned, little port in dire need of sun and sail and plenty of hearty meals and maybe a few weeks of islands, just the two? Speaking of, how are the girls this summer? Still bouncing down the beach at Bahia Mar, all giggles and grab-ass? I suppose not, what with iPods and laptops and cellphones, all the distractions that even the threat of sand doth not deter.
Well, I hope you're keeping your head down, staying off the radar, enjoying today's poor bit of retirement. Tell that hairy bastard Meyer I said hello and to shave.
P.S. My offer still stands. If/when you ever want to clear out of f-18 for higher ground, I will take the Flush off your hands. Cash or card game.
Friday, May 28, 2010
John D. MacDonald | The Green Ripper | 1980