***Oh my god I can't believe this is happening it's Friday I think Jesus Christ why?***

It was Friday. Usually Friday is a good day, the beginning of the weekend. In this case however it wasn't good because our next weekend obviously wasn't going to be until next weekend. This trip was dragging serious and the commute from our hotel in Boston wasn't going make things any easier. The entire coast seems to be socked in with RV's driven by sunburned retards trying to find where their parents spawned. Every twenty minutes my IQ attempts to swerve the car into a tree or a family. Fuck it and this.

We show up at Bill's house as agreed. 10:30am. As soon as we step inside we feel the trap spring: looks like his kids are coming. A cursory look around the place confirms there are only two of them. I hope it's a big boat at least, with private rooms and books or something to do.

It's not a big boat, though. We would probably all have to be in the same general area the whole time - within speaking distance - and be able to see each other pretty well. Bill named the boat 'South Swell', and I was all like "South Swell? Is that a reference to your pants!? Heh." (I was still pretty drunk after the drive in from Boston) and Bill was like "No."

Turns out south swell is a surfing or nautical term of some kind. I forgot that I said it after a little bit and I seemed more comfortable after that. His kids were laughing pretty hard though, for most of the day really. I think they really looked up to me after that, like a father figure - someone to emulate. They seemed pretty smart and a little blurry. I had been getting high a little bit after and previous to the drinking. It was really sunny and one of Bill's kids, the smaller one, finished fooling with the ropes and we finally left.

Dr. Berens had staked out the back left corner or the "starboard" corner, I guess, if you're looking at it from the front or "poop deck." Bill was constantly throwing around these code words for water driving now - even though yesterday he didn't even know what a sailboat was! He was probably on E2 all night looking this stuff up. What a joke. His boat even had "radar" he says! Even I know just from going to college after high school that boats have sonar, not radar. It's not that big a deal, but man, you know? Read a Tom Clancy book or something.

Looks like today's narrative is going to focus on a few wealthy and law abiding democrats that Bill's Conservative Brotherhood of Fear God Or Else group is rabidly jealous of. The smear campaign begins as Bill almost hits a sandbar and suddenly the nautical chart company in Hyannis Port has a Kennedy in the inkroom, nipping away at Freedom and Values.

For a Christian and a moral freedom of democracy lover Bill sure swears a lot.

The last part of the boat ride was faster, so we all pretended we couldn't hear or talk and just squinted silently into the burning orb of heat that was slowly ruining us. It was really hot and terrible but the thing had to run out of gas eventually so we just sweated and counted the seconds.


(whatever - at least I posted it as a daylog.)