loveboat captain take the rains

Another long weekend. It seems to me that we have long weekends all the time, yet simultaneously the weekend is never here. But that was the last for a while. Winter is here.

Executive Summary:

– Rent deluxe houseboat (4 double cabins, each with ensuite. Dishwasher. Gas fire. Spa on roof. Mayday, mayday! There is a SPA on the ROOF!)

– Meet up with a dozen people (some from New Zealand over here especially for this weekend). Much rejoicing.

– Quail inwardly at the amount of alcohol being loaded onto the boat.

– Giant houseboat develops a noticeable lean on the alcohol-loaded side.

– Board the houseboat and begin my pirate spiel: “ARRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

– Find that other girls on board seem to lack an appreciation for Captain Jack Sparrow.

– Demand to return to shore to rent PoTC (for edumacational purposes, of course).

– DVD renting mission denied. Mr. T hides the keys. Hate Mr. T briefly and intensely.

– Find our cabin.

– Throw other peoples’ stuff out of our cabin.

– Throw our stuff in.

– Join the party in the SPA on the ROOF.

– Repeat for three nights.

As Much Fun as it sounds. Even though we are all approaching our 30s (and some of us are IN our 30s! Them, I mean! And they’re still alive and EVERYTHING!) and this advanced age ensures the mornings are slightly more subdued than they used to be. Berocca! Who can live without it? (Although that was a rhetorical question, I’m presuming: everyone in countries where Berocca is not sold. How do you survive? (Also rhetorical.))

And, as alluded to in the post title, it did rain. (Although I’m only explaining this as I don’t want it thought that I suck at homophones.) But who cares about rain? When you’re in a spa? Nobody, that’s who! (This always reminds me of a Calvin and Hobbes comic. Similar to the Larsen Far Side I mentioned in an earlier post (Oh, do pay attention, Wadsworth!) I should really scan these buggers in to give to the internet for posterity.) The raining meant nothing, NOTHING, to those of us wallowing in a spa. Note to future houseboat renters: turning on the bubbles in the spa causes the lights downstairs to flicker and die momentarily. Not that you’ll care. Because you’re IN the SPA!

"Make a remark," said the Red Queen: "Its ridiculous to leave all conversation to the pudding!"

 

 

 

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