The Italian Cafe Across the Street

The Italian Cafe across the street is definitely not my cup of espresso (fucking Italians don't even know the proper vernacular is tea, cup of tea...).
As an Irishman I am predisposed to having a melanin impediment... obviously; that being said why is it then necessary to bring this to my attention?
Is it not obvious that I am relatively aware of my own skin tone and the need to take "precautions" in staving off the burn of the accursed sun? I apologize for being a "ginger" (which by the way is offensive and a wholly unoriginal sentiment, keep watching South Park and learning... assholes) and representing my Irish heritage.
I would also like to apologize for the following sins against the Italians (Mother Mary forgive me for I have... blah, blah, blah... fart): Being in shape, I am very sorry that I am capable of walking all the way across the street in the hot sunshine to spend my wife's hard earned money at your cafe. I know that you had to drive your 1999 Cadillac Boat from your house 100 feet behind the cafe to get here, because you are fucking fat... my bad.
Being attractive, really sorry about this you stupid Dago, It's not my fault that your aquiline nose looks like a Kindergartner molded it from Play-Doh and threw it in your general direction where it accidentally landed on that moon crater you call a face. Thousands of years of "Roman" heritage and this is as far as you people have come? All the make up and hair product on the planet cannot fix what God has done to you (I think he is still mad about that thing you did to his kid... remember, Jesus, you had him whacked-off... not cool).
The fact is I could ask for forgiveness for just about anything, but I would rather let you guys get back to filling your faces with pastas (How do you not realize they all taste the same, they are just different shapes. Do the circles taste like circles and not strings, I don't fucking get it?), shouting at each other while gesticulating wildly about every mundane thing and killing the ozone layer with your hair spray and airbrush eyebrows.
Listen, you are not all in the mafia, there are more names than Vinnie, Joey and Tommy and being Irish kicks ass.
Sure we have Catholicism in common and we enjoy a good argument, but other than that I am far superior to you in every way.
What any of this has to do with my experience in the Italian Cafe this morning, I dunno? I just really wanted to bitch about being singled out for my skin's inability to turn sunlight into bronze (fucking alchemy, I will never be a wizard), but if I'm not mistaken when your skin turns leathery and has lost elasticity shouldn't it be turned into a boot... you know, like your shitty country?

Lets Go To The Beach

This is my Ultimate Beach Guide 2011 Part Two (Part One comes after because it's better than this one and will have all of the upgrades from the fuck-ups in this one... of which there will be none, so there is no Part One... fuck you.)

Lets get started

1. Find Some Sand, is there water... cool you got a beach. If there isn't any water put some sand in one of those empty beer bottles in your truck and bring it to some water... you just made your own beach.

2. Buy Some Fuckin Beer... you got money? No. Dig up all the change from the floor of your truck, make sure you check the glove box and those Taco Bell wrappers under the seat. Purchase whatever you can with your scroungings. Malt liquor works the best so hopefully you got enough.

3. Make Some Shorts... cut-off denim is the best in water, make sure the pockets hang out so you can catch any fish just in case you need bait. If you don't have a knife in the truck try karate choppin' em, that always works for me.

4. Sunglasses... you gotta have eye protection and instead of losin your Blades tie an old shirt around your head and cut out some eye holes, that'll work,

5. Gotta Have Baby Oil... I keep a lot of baby oil in the truck in case I need to lube up, otherwise 5W-30 or even ten will give you a base. Don't use any of that Dexron shit, it's for your tranny and will turn you red.

6. Flotations... boots float.

7. Umbrella... umbrella's are for pussies so don't use one, if you can't handle the sun for ten hours don't go to the fuckin beach asshole.

8. Where Are The Bathrooms... there ain't no bathrooms at the beach so piss in the fuckin water and you got those old Taco bell wrappers under the seat so you are covered.

9. Whistle... girls at the beach love being whistled at and wanna bang. keep some of that Saran Wrap from your PB and J handy so you can make a condom; never trust beach chicks they will give you VD.

There Is No Ten...

Sunshine State of Mind

Rice Pudding?
Seriously... rice fucking pudding?
Why is this an option as a side dish for my main course?
Why am I the only person in this place excusing himself to use the restroom? I have been here for like three hours and not one of these "geriatric wonders" has left their fucking table... WTF?
Do they not know they have to shit?
Do you think it just kinda happens while they're gumming the steamed fish plate special (Only $2.99 everyday 'til 6:00 PM!) and when they get home to watch "The Price is Right" they bend over to change into their "night slippers" and some falls out of their pant leg and they think the cat shit on the floor again... damn cat!!!
There is much to be said for life experience, but in which life would you wear your toupee backwards? How the fuck would you not know? Do you just glue it on and think "look out ladies here comes Jimmy Stewart" and you don't even notice the sideburns are behind your ears?
Unfortunately I have not yet qualified for the "senior special", I still have teeth, I rarely shit in my own pants and I don't pull U-turns through traffic to head the wrong way during rush hour, but come on Generation Y are you still alive!
This is Florida, a veritable amusement park of Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and Rice Pudding and I suppose when you are so close to that final day trip to Denny's shitting your pants or putting your hairpiece on a bit askew should be praised. In the grand scheme of things you are just going to slip and fall in the tub, breaking your hip and dying because you are so fucking old, but take solace in knowing (and forgetting, then knowing and forgetting all over again) that you are bringing a little extra sunshine to my already really sunny life.