Trav,
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.
Slightly sincerely,
Justin Bacqué
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.
Showing posts with label John D. MacDonald. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John D. MacDonald. Show all posts
Friday, May 28, 2010
John D. MacDonald | The Green Ripper | 1980
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