I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving weekend. I sure did. I’ll spare you the details.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving weekend. I sure did. I’ll spare you the details.
Sorry about missing the football picks, but well, I spent Saturday and Sunday at a beach house with no internet access, stayed out late on a boat Saturday night and slept through most of the games. Friday, I was recovering from a bodily sensation that combined a hangover with a triptophan overdose. Anyway, I’m sure I inconvenienced absolutely none of you. And I’m happy to be back.
We’ve reached that time of the year in Florida when people visit. They have beach houses, hotel reservations, RVs, motor homes, packed cars, stuffed suitcases and/or plane tickets. They love it here this time of year. So far, two friends have visited from up north in the last two weeks. There’s more coming. No one ever visits in the summer. In the summer, it’s just us locals and the heat. The blazing heat. But what can I do? Hell, I live in Florida. Complaining about tourists in Florida is like complaining about rain in the summer. It just happens. And we have to accept that.
Now, some of you are reading me from much colder climates, and you’re thinking something to the effect of, “Fuck you, DeGraaf. It’s twenty degrees where I live.” I’m sorry about that, really I am. All I can say is don’t move down here. The hurricanes’ll get you. Try Texas. I hear that’s the place to be.
Seriously, the insects are huge in Florida, the weather is overrated, the pollution is horrible, every place looks the same, there’s no great parks left. Just stay away. The place is all messed up. You’ll hate it here. The people are crazy and the water’s not even potable most places.
Unless you’re a hot chick. In which case, I could show you a few places, you know, if you get bored while you’re down here or something.