Since the inception of this blog (2 years ago), I have made an effort to communicate to you, my loyal readers (all 5 of you), all of the fun-goings on in New York City (all of the things that involve me, booze, television and being poor).
Every year, I have been outspoken in my support of Fleet Week (AKA Hot Sailor Weekend). Well, I have officially changed my mind (I'm a flip-flopper). This year, I will not be spending Memorial Day Weekend in Manhattan (which is dead this weekend anyway) but rather, in an interesting twist, will be trekking (taking the Metro-North 30 minites) to my home town in Westchester for several celebrations (drunk-fests).
Why? You may ask, have I had such a change of heart (coal)? This year, I have noticed that while I am maturing (getting older) the sailors are seemingly less mature (seriously, they look 12 years old) and are not necessarily what I find attractive (FUGLY!).
So dear, readers (reader), there will be no posts about canooodling (Making out) with any of our US Naval Officers (unless somehow I eat a naval orange or randomly meet Phil Stacey) this weekend. In short, no delectable details from my Fleet Week celebration will be posted herewith (In short, I think I'm getting to old to hit on vulnerable 19-year-olds who are wearing white pants).
You may be saying, "Jonesy, you've explained what we (I) won't get. We (I) want to know what we WILL get." Dear friends (friend), you will most likely hear wonderful tales (foggy recollections) of a girl experiencing the verge of summer with some of her nearest (I'm only saying this because you are the ones who read this) and most dear friends and frolicking (eating and drinking) through the countryside (the yard at Spanish's parent's house).
So I bid you adieu for the long weekend (mini-vacay!) and in the words of that sage (hobag) Britney Spears, Godspeed (peace out mofos).
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