Far-L

Oh hell ya... there are some tales to tell there...

Ok. First of all, I might get sweaty at times which has already been stated but I am not the only person that gets sweaty in Florida. Especially during the time when the Internext is going on in the hottest and most humid month during the entire year, there might be good reason to be sweaty. I just have a way of exacerbating the condition.

Back in the day, Homegrown Video joined forces with amateur porn innovators Wild Rose to create Homegrown Cams and we took our celebration of that union pretty darn seriously. After some sushi and enough sake to turn us into kamikaze pilots we decided to follow Danny's lead and jump on a small bus to take us to his favorite parrothead bar in town. I didn't realize there were quite a few of them but I should have considering that Florida is the mecca of Jimmy Buffet fans.

Danny knows how to pick them. The bar looked like Robinson Crusoe built it and staffed it with the saltiest old crusts he could muster. When you drank at this place the bartender drank with you... and not just you... but shot for shot with everyone else sitting at the bar. At one point he left to go handle a problem customer; some kind of hermit crabby old barnuckle had trekked in and was trying to scuttle the tips off the tables before the servers could collect them.

A posse of bartenders herded the guy out before the problem became any worse. The one tending our corner of the palm leafed shack was back before any one's drink went dry. Now that is what they call service in Margaritaville.

All of sudden the old tip pirate was back. This time he was sporting a length of 2"x4" to help collect his doubloons. Our bartender was explaining the merits of Irish barmen when he literally jumped over the bar mid sentence. He grabbed an empty Corona with a lime still stuck in it on the way over to use as a club. You may have heard the expression "walk softly and carry a big stick" but Teddy Roosevelt was no match against "carry a Corona bottle and hit low and from behind". The problem was dealt with within seconds and drinking returned to normal. If Jimmy Buffet was there then I am sure he would have written a song about it.

I didn't need any more excuses to go completely native at that point. I ordered a round for the bar. As soon as all my inhibitions were soaking in a puddle of booze we got back on the bus. I naturally had to cool off so my clothes started flying. I was sweating like someone left on the tub tap and trying to give people lap dances while the bus bounced along. I recall some rather spectacularly athletic pole moves from the luggage rack. I am pretty sure Buffet did write a lyric about it...

"When he was drinking a little
he'd pull his dick out an' he'd fiddle
in the middle of our bus like a goshdurn fool

chorus

he's a porn sailor, a chick tailor, and a frigging flailor but loves swimming
in hot water too
When he's not drinking rum, playing on his drum, then he loves, does love
more than a few
He might me a sweaty guy but don't wonder why you'll leave him high and dry
when he (finally) comes to...

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