The Wetter The Better

All help All
There's a few rules in life and one of them is to never make me the bartender...NEVER!  I don't follow recipes very well. I'm a do my own thing type of person after I get the basics down. 

You see we had a rather small family gathering for my daughter's birthday and it involved strawberry daiquiris and social distancing and cupcakes that my son-in-law couldn't believe I made because they looked like they had been professionally made. Oh yeah, I'm that good when I want to be! The birthday party was great, but my "normal" evening consists of sitting in my backyard, listening to music and shooting the shit with Martha while we social distance across the chain link fence lit by tiki torches. 

After the birthday party, I made a "special" blender full of daiquiris just for Martha and me and I don't drink or I should say I may drink something maybe once a year so this was designated as "my once a year."  After four strong drinks and some tsunami strength Surfing in a Hurricane weed for medicinal purposes only (I see you rolling your eyes as you read this) I was one with the world and ready to boogaloo down Broadway in my flamingo mask, but Pensacola doesn't have a Broadway unfortunately or maybe it was a fortunate thing for the inhabitants of Northwest Florida. I've never gotten the feeling that the South has ever been quite ready for this Yankee all the years I've lived here. I've always felt like a fish out of water or a flamingo amongst a flock of geese.

Martha almost got the hose after me last night because I threatened to, not off a bridge or a building. I jumped up and down one night not long ago when I was pretty baked and I felt like dancing and it was the WRONG thing to do. Someone with as many disc/spinal problems as I have shouldn't jump...EVER! I found that out after the second or third jump. I was in so much pain I whimpered that I needed to sit down NOW and that jumping was the wrong thing to do. Enlightenment always comes quickly with pain! Martha's husband told her to get the hose if I ever tried to jump again, so she run and got the hose last night. She was ready to blast me with it. I kept telling her I was going to do it, but I was just yanking her chain. Imagine that! Me yanking someone's chain? You see, if I were her I would have soaked me just on general principles and laughed at me while I screamed and hollered as the cold water baptized me. The wetter the better I say and Martha could have put this fish back in the water where I belong!

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