Belle Belle Belle

Tuesday!

This weekend we cruised down to the Cape in a Mercedes, which is pretty much like my truck except for the leather seats, stir-fry station, gun turrets and ability to drive underwater. Also, Alli discovered a special feature which makes the front seat break the legs of the person behind it. I bet loan sharks like Mercedes.

We stayed at the same house in Falmouth as last year (cheers Rob!), with a whole new cast of characters. I don't think we stopped eating all weekend, which led to Steve telling us how he puked once after eating 39 Chicken Nuggets, then ate a fortieth. Also I learned a lot about Kobayashi and his funny little body. Did you know homeboy's stomach is lower than most people, meaning that it can expand with food, totally un-constricted by his ribs? True story.

This led to a discussion about guys removing ribs for greater, ah, crotchal access (a la Marilyn Manson.) Weirdly enough, I swear we had the exact same conversation last year. I love tradition. We definitely upped the ante on dirty talk this time around; the weekend's topics included- manscaping, rashes, gag reflex, oral technique and some really foul potential submissions for urbandictionary.com.

The winner in the 'dirty new phrase' competition was Gypsy Spray, after we saw a boat named that. It's not cool to say bad things about gypsies anymore so I won't define it here. I really want to though! It's so funny! Ah well, check out this painting entitled, well, Gypsy Spray. Safe for work.

This isn't how I expected this post to turn out at all. I'm almost 30, I need to get my head out of the gutter. Okay, here's something innocent and also awesome. I'm going to go take a brain shower.