A Day in Boston
I don’t know why anyone would take a bus that goes on a vapid tour from suburban mall to suburban mall, but it takes all kinds, right?
If you’re “lucky” enough to find an MBTA (unisex) bathroom that works, this is what you’ll be confronted with. Toilet paper on a gigantic, oxidized chain and a milk-crate trash basket. You can’t get any toilet paper without every centimeter of it scraping against the chain. I hope it doesn’t cause Iron-Butt or Rusty Vulva.
An old building is being taken apart alongside the Zakim Bridge (seen in the background). The people who work those machines are incredibly precise. All the different materials are segregated for recycling. It’s not as spectacular as an implosion, but it’s just as interesting.
The Apple store stands out in an old city like Boston. I had no agenda yesterday besides getting to Bella Luna by 5:30, so I went to the Apple store to recharge my phone. I told a couple of the employees how great Waze is and discovered a couple of good apps myself before I moved on.
Unbeknownst to me, the Apple store is close to where the marathon bombs exploded. The street was crowded, as thousands of people came out to pay their respects at the memorial. Predictably, conspiracy theories are running rampant about the bombing, and this guy was there to get the word out. I’m happy we live in a country where anyone who wants to can be heard. Plus, “BALLS DEEP!!!”
Many windows are still boarded up from the bombs.
Walkin’ Margarita: One strawberry Coolatta. Add tequila to taste.
This just in: BANANA BREAD.
That is all.
We interrupt this Tumblr for an important word from our sponsor: NACHOS.
We return to Tumblr, already in progress.
I love you guys
This message is brought to you by the letter M (for “margarita”) and tequila.
Ha ha! TWISTER!!
Is anyone still at the Holiday Inn and not leaving on a jet plane like me?
Come on down to the nerd pit to claim your prize.
UPDATE: These wonderful nectars are going to assist in the post-production of the CHSH documentary. There’s no need to focus the cameras any more, so BOTTOMS UP!
Being an adult
Is realizing that I just don’t “do” shots.
Not saying shots are bad. I just have never liked them. It’s a weird, kind of dumb thing…to finally just day out loud, “I’m 30; I just don’t like shots.”. In the bar. When offered a free shot. Turning it down, because I’m an adult.
I have yet to realize this.
Reblogging because this will happen again. Mark my words.
This became my position at age 37. I have Goldschläger and Jägermeister and two not-so-well-intentioned, same-named co-workers to thank for this decision. Now that I see this in writing, maybe it is just drinks with umlauts that I need to avoid. Or boys who share the same name. Or waitresses who accept payment from me to deliver me water in shot glasses but then also accept payment from co-workers to deliver the real drinks, instead.
I am sticking with no shots.
I’m partial to teqüila shots.