June 21, 2003

Move the God-damned Shed

My dad needed help moving the shed at my parent's beach house in South Jersey. So I took the train out to north Jersey to meet up with my brother and we headed down to the shore together late Friday night.

Friday, June 20th

brett — Burger King. New Jersey Turnpike Rest Stop. 2:27am. Arguing over who should have to eat *burp* the last cheeseburger.

brett — We ended up going halfsies on it which left plenty o' room for the Good Humor robotic ice cream machine on the way out.

The face of a treat-addict.

Snickers Ice Cream bar National Lampoon's European Vacation style.

See? Just like Clarke W. Griswold.

Saturday, June 21st

On Saturday afternoon, our dad woke us up and informed us that our street was having a block party. Check me hitting up the root beer keg. Aw, yeah.

dad — Here's my dad cold kicking it with his aqua shades.

brett — Little brother Brett.

dad, me — Me and dad prepping for the big 'tater race. (The object is to cross the finish line first. If your pototo falls off your spoon, you're immediately disqualified.)

The women's heat.

After the tater race (I lost, but only because of my lumpy pototo, I swear), it was time for the water balloon toss. (aka - the best game ever invented). Here's the twelve and under heat preparing to sqaure off.

Action shots.

Look out red-shirt, she's coming in fast...

Booyah! You're out!

brett — Then the adults squared off. My brother (in the gray shirt) teamed up with my dad...

dad, me — ...who shit the bed on the next toss by throwing short to my dad (the balloon exploded on his foot). Check me out laughing at him while he gives my brother the ol' stink eye.

Here's me preparing to make the winning catch.

Here's my parent's boat, the "SS Weak Moment" (named after what my mom must've been having when she "allowed" my dad to buy a boat) parked at the house's dock.

brett, me — Saturday evening we went to the Stafford Diner for some authentic Jersey Diner grub. Bonus points to me for having a shirt with an NJ logo on it.

dad — Bonus points to Pappi for also having a Jersey shirt on. Beach Haven West Reprazent, yo. (Unfortunately for him, he also loses the same amount of Bonus Points for actually reading a menu in a diner. In a real NJ diner, you're just supposed to think about what you want to eat and rest assured knowing that they'll have it.).

Saturday night, my brother and I crossed the bridge to experience some Long Beach Island night life action. We went to some club and managed to catch a clutch Bruce Springsteen cover band (I shit you not). Even though faux-Bruce rocked the house, the night didn't come close to last year's LBI Nightlife Antics.

Sunday, June 22nd

Sunday morning we got up early and set out on our mission: move the goddamned shed. Mom was complaining that the placement of the new shed was blocking her view of the water from the porch and wanted it moved to that it was parallel to the house (instead of perpendicular). Here's me manning the jack.

dad — Thumbs up from Pappi, the shed in its new place is level.

Mission accomplished.

brett, dad — My brother always gets shit because he looks, walks, talks and acts like a little Mini-Me version of my dad. I tried to snap a sneaky picture of them watching TV together while eating matching sandwiches and wearing matching white shirts and blue baseball hats, but I started laughing right before the cam went off and gave Brett time to flip me the bird. They look like the goddamned Bobsie Twins though, right?

dad — After lunch we took out the boat, here's Skipper large and in charge at the wheel...

...and I got to drive using the new fancy GPS navigation system. Ooooooh!

brett — Here's Skipper Jr. chilling on the *heh* poop deck. (Okay, I don't know if that's technically what the little back area's called, but I just wanted to say "poop deck.")

brett — On the way back inland, I took Brett on a trip down "Torturous Big Brother Memory Lane" by waking him from his slumber with a long-range shot to the balls with the 25' gaff pole. Hehehehe.