The party crasher

My birthday last year was pretty hard to beat. I’d been traveling around Asia for almost three weeks, and the big day itself was spent on a junk in Halong Bay, Vietnam drinking Jim Beam, smoking a Cuban, and watching the sun set over the karsts.  And I may have  sung The Lonely Island’s “I’m on a Boat” more than once.

Hey, where's T-Pain?

I thought last year’s wish list was pretty basic - a beautiful location, a. little bourbon, that’s not much to ask for, right?

Well, this year, I’m simply hoping for electricity and running water.  I’m currently in my hometown in Alabama, and there happens to be this pesky little hurricane that is threatening to crash my birthday celebration.  Ok, it’s not like I’ve been planning an actual celebration, but I have been planning on showering, running the air conditioner, and maybe eating a cupcake.  But Isaac has to be the punk little party crasher, with his 90-mph winds and 6-foot storm surge.  Showoff.

So we will see what happens.  But either way, there will most certainly be candles.  It’s just a matter of whether or not I’ll be in total darkness after I blow them out.

Party on, Wayne.

Party on, Garth.

Party on, Isaac. 

Don't worry about the hurricanes

We've all seen an utterly ridiculous warning label or two in our lives.  You know the ones I'm talking about - cautioning us to not use the coffee maker in the shower or iron our clothes while wearing them.  The warnings that ensure the stupid people stay alive and keep breeding.  While staying in a lovely condo near Gulf Shores, Alabama this weekend, I encountered one of these warnings designed to interfere with Darwinism.

Potential drafts of air warrant a warning?  This is the Gulf Coast - an area that is battered by hurricanes on a regular basis.  The very condo in which this warning was posted has probably flooded multiple times in its existence due to storm surges.  Flooding, 10-foot waves, and 75 mph winds apparently aren't worthy of a warning.  But "severe drafts" are.  I'm willing to bet that some redneck dude already half a case of Bud Light down happened to be standing on the open balcony when his buddy that consumed the other half of the case opened the front door.  Whether the ensuing draft or the Bud Light caused the fall, no one will ever know.  But just in case it was the draft, the owners felt compelled to put up a warning. 

Welcome to Gulf Shores.  The drafts are a b*tch.  But the hurricanes are no problem.