Yo-Ho-Ho-Hum Pirate Night at the Duck Dodge

It was the crowd, my husband called it.  We picked up Bev, changed her into a costume at the marina, since we were expecting to get there early to ready the boat, so we might actually hit our 7:10 start with the rest of our class (Slow Boats Full of Drunks) - I'd called Dan earlier and had the combination to the cabin written on my arm.  We were surprised to be met at the Mirus by Brian, the co-owner of the boat.  We'd never met, but he seems very sweet and genuine.  Sweet, goofy engineer type, like Dan, and my last husband.  He told me that he'd bought the boat without ever having been on a sailboat.

Since Dan was running late (with good reason - he was doing the parental hand-off on Beacon Hill), we decided to wait, then Brian got a voicemail that Dan was waiting at the marina gate, locked out, so Brian or Lou let him in, and came back with Dan and two women dressed like porn pirates.  Not good.  I was expecting them to break out a bottle of Jagermeister.  I made a faux pas right at the start when I accidentally mentioned that I'd seen the blonde's work in Dan's homemade porn collection.  And it only went downhill from there...

JUST as we were ready to cast-off, Sebastian, the boat's former co-owner and all-around Zeig Heil jackass, comes sauntering up the dock with his superior aryan race grin and climbs aboard.

Passenger count on the 28' boat is now at 9, and we missed our start time.  So, the only person on the boat who actually knows how to sail is Lou, but he doesn't even bother trying to correct Sebastian's captaining.  Dan's okay, I can jibe, tack, and man the tiller passably, but I think Bev can sail better than any of the drunks on board.  Dan, Lou, and I sail very well together.

Lou gave it a name.  The vibe was all wrong.  The mix of crowds was not good.  Bev and I spent most of the night on the bow, ignoring the skank sisters and trying to avoid Sebastian.  He made me cry, but I can't remember why (there was bourbon).  Lou spent a few minutes concoling me on the bow.  Unfortunately, my self-imposed exile also meant that I got no Dan Time.

Next time I RSVP for the Duck Dodge, I want a passenger list in advance.  It was such a let down.  I love sailing when it's just me, Dan, Lou, and Pancho (Dan's libidinous mutt).

Blue Lou Logan for President in 2012! No Plunder without Booty!

My awesomely piratical husband, Lou, officially announced his candidacy yesterday for President in 2012.  He is supported by the Parcel o' Rogues party, which proposes that we, as a nation, go back to move forward.  Please read his announcement here.

Let's Talk About Martinis

Okay, you all know, or have heard of, my kitchen bitch, Lou, a/k/a Mr. Zanne (thanks bnldavid for Mrs. Bnldavid),  Recently, okay, for 3-1/2 f'g years, this weird ass pirate guy has been following me around like my Seeing Eye Bitch, Sammy Davis Jr., Jr. (thank you, Liev Schreiber), sniffing my tail like we're married, then I find out this week that we actually ARE married in some crazy Ukranian head-slapping tradition.  WTF?  Who is this guy?  He tells me that his name is Vitoli, and keeps asking me how he can be of service.

Chop, bitch, chop!  Slice, dice, broil, grill, suck toes, whatever I tell you - what molestable woman in her 30s isn't interested in being worshipped?  Certainly not this one.  I have a toe slave for the next 50 years.  I can live with that.

Oh, back to martinis (sorry, I get off track when it comes to worshipping the Goddess that is Zanne).  Dirty, dirty, dirty, and only potato vodka.  That grain alcohol crap isn't fit for consumption.

What was I talking about???

Oh, for me, chill the glass with ice water, inhale over an open bottle of dry vermouth, exhale into an ice-filled shaker, skip the olives but drain half the brine in the jar into the shaker, and fill the rest with potato vodka.  Shake, pour, and make sure there's enough vodka left for another round.

A cosmo is not a martini.  An apple-tini is not a martini.  Vodka, gin, whatever twirls your skirt, but if you put something called "Pucker" into a martini glass, it's not a martini.

This is going to sound crazy, but it's awesome.  Everything I said above, but switch out pickle brine for the olive brine.  Thos little midgets are best, and I can eat them by the case.