For Christmas day, my grandparents and one of my mom's sister's family (The Carricks) came to our house. Christmas dinner in the house y'all. When I say "Hey," you say "Ho!" Now when I say "Je" you say "sus!"
On the day before my birthday, my mom and dad came into New York City (from Jersey) and took Grant, Tara and myself out for a birthday dinner at Epicurie in the LES.
...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.
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.)
Brett was the big winner. Me and my dad both caught NOTHING! NADA! ZIP! ZILCH! (Actually, my dad at least caught two fucked-up fish that just didn't count in the contest so he threw them back. I was the only one that didn't catch a god-damned thing. Bah.) Arrrrgh, matey! Better luck next time!
