What I Did On My Mini-Vacation

You know we have come to a sad state of affairs in this country when people have to be told, "Don't shit in our swimming pool."

Ummmmm, these people probably shouldn't leave the house, much less go to a pool.

Fleurs. I love hydrangeas.

Miss Midwesterly and me, next to the pool, after trying to do handstands.  Apparently my center of gravity has shifted, even under water.  And yes, Miss M DOES have a tiny little blonde woman growing out of the top of her head.

When you go to Miss Midwesterly's apartment, you have to name one of the frogs.  I did.  Good luck finding mine.  Do you think I'm dumb enough to put Tom Hagen's name on the WEB?

Ace Rothstein and I rode the Cyclone. Twice. Without getting off in between.  Because you can do that.  Primal scream therapy, baby.  Primal scream.  I love this time of day. The light is so Hopper-esque.  And I'm not talkin' about Dennis.

Sunset over Keyspan Park, home of the Brooklyn Cyclones, aka the Brooklyn Mets. Watch a ballgame in a beautiful little ballpark, overlooking the ocean, with the Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel in the distance.  Feel like you're in a movie. A really good one.

Ace and me, in (where else) Ruby's, post-Cyclone.  The great thing about vacations and old friends is  you don't need to put on makeup for either.

Just wondering who the Hole family is.

Ace at Beer Island. Yes, there is a bar called "Beer Island."  We like it there.