The car is packed and running and we are confirming we have everything we need before our short flight to Fort Lauderdale, where we will be jumping on a cruise ship to the Bahamas.
Suitcases, check. ID/Passports, check. My balls are still in my wife’s purse, check. Good, I’m hoping to need those quite a bit this week. (I’m thinking the reason I buy my wife so many expensive purses is so my boyz have a nice place to stay.)
The flight and cab ride are remarkably smooth and we arrive early to the boat. Our rooms will not be ready till 1pm, but the buffet is open. Awesome, is there a better way to spend an hour and half than a pig bar? My wife reminds me to not forget our room number, #4037. Easy, the 4th floor is the main deck, and the #37 is permanently embedded in my mind from the movie Clerks. (Warning adult humor)I’ll show you the way there honey, just try not to…unless it’s me
Everyone checking onto the boat was directed to the buffet. This provided awesome people watching, as well as limitless chances to play the “Billy Bob Thornton” game. I saw Elisha Cuthbert, Hal Holbrook, and the father from Good Times. I was especially pleased with the last pick, because the “John Amos” in question was actually a woman! It was during this time that my wife informed me that the boat held over 2000 people and we were going to be on it for 4 days, so I needed only to point out A-list celebrities. Hmm, a challenge!
I sampled nearly everything on the menu, and washed it down with 4 Coronas. My wife tells me to pace myself, or I’m gonna be asleep by 8pm. “No way,” I told her. “Dinners not till 8:30″
We check into the room and “relax” for a little while. So it’s now 1:30 and I am….asleep! I challenge anyone to eat for an hour, drink 4 beers, “relax”, and not take a nap. Oh wait, my wife didn’t need one. So we’re off to the pool deck for more sun and fun. We decide that we will take the steps up to the 11th floor, and will continue to use the stairs all week for some exercise. Once again, I guess the 15 minutes of “relaxing” wasn’t enough. It sure tuckered me out.
The pool provided more great people watching. Except for the guy standing directly in my line of sight wearing the banana sling. There’s always one in every crowd. This guy fit the mold to the T. Big belly, lots of back hair. And it’s not a banana, it looks more like an acorn sitting on a peach. And there is nothing I can do to avoid the sight. He’s directly in front of me, he won’t sit down, and he won’t get in the pool. Just stands there, apparently for everyone to enjoy. This only makes me drink more. Our fun was interrupted by the Captain informing everyone to report for a mandatory exercise with our life jackets. One things for sure, by the looks of things around the pool, there’s a lot of chicks in no danger of drowning. They’ve brought their own flotation devices, and it looks like they can make it to Nassau on their own!
“Jack and Rose” headed to the mandatory disaster drill. This was a little anti-climatic other than the Titanic references and Cameron Diaz being there. However, my wife didn’t agree with me on Cameron. She gave me the “hmmm, kinda.” So I’m still on the lookout. We retreated back to our room to get ready for the evening. My wife napped. So just to give you an idea, at this point we both have napped, and we each got 6 or 8 beers in us. Oh yeah, the ship hasn’t even left yet!
I feel the like Clifford the big red dog in our room. In fact, anyone short of Vern Troyer would. I have to sleep against a wall, and to turn around, I need to go in the hall. I needed to get ready for dinner, so I jumped in the shower. I used the bar of soap provided by the ship, even though my wife brought the nice smelling bath and body works gels. I only use the bars of soap when I’m at a hotel, and I always love it. It makes me long for the days of a simple bar of Lever or Irish Spring. I think you get much cleaner and do it faster with a bar of soap. Faster, except for the 5 additional minutes spent trying to get that one stubborn pubic hair to fall off the soap.
Dinner was awesome, we got a table for two, by a window in the corner. I ordered the lamb shanks for dinner, a move that upset my wife for eating the “babies.” I did not improve my position by making noises about how good it was, and doing my best Hannibal Lector “tell me Clarice, have the lambs stopped crying.”
Fat, drunk, and happy after dinner, we made our way to the alluring sights and sounds of the Casino Royal. We grabbed a couple beers and changed a couple hundreds. 3 card poker was the game of choice. 3 hands in, I get dealt a straight flush, the best hand you can get in 3 card poker. My $5 bet turned into $200! Winner, winner, chicken dinner! Over the course of the trip the wife and I would total 4 straight flushes, “Hey everybody, we’re all going to get laid.”
We made it back to the room @ 11pm. Totally whipped from the day. We did manage the strength to order a pizza and nachos from room service. I thought I would sleep like a rock, but the bed had other plans for me. I had the wall to contend with, along with a sucky pillow and sheets. Until I met my wife, I had no idea about sheets and thread counts. Go ahead baby, buy the 600 count sheets instead of the 200 count. If I’m gonna get laid 400 more times, I’m in. But once you slide your sweet cheeks into a 600 count sheet, you quickly know the difference. I’m not sure what was on our bed in our room, but I’m pretty sure I weigh more than the count, and that’s a bad ratio.
The following morning brought the first dilemma of the trip. I’ve already explained how small the room is, I’ve also read that my toilet may not flush every time. On top of that, there is this sign above the toilet.
Items other than toilet paper?
Meanwhile, that weatherman from The Perfect Storm, (Happy Gilmore’s nemesis) is drawing a diagram of my lower abdomen.
“See over here we have the McDonald’s breakfast and lunch buffet. Now over here we have the lamb shanks and room service. Sitting on top of it all is a twelve pack of Corona. It’s all meeting right here (circle my lower abdomen) to form, the perfect turd.
Even though I’d like to stumble 2 steps to the bathroom to take care of business, I take my tired, hungover ass on a field trip to find a restroom. Searching around like Harry Dunne when he picked up Mary in Dumb and Dumber, I find solitude in the Casino restroom. I’m not sure if this boat’s for sale, but I’m getting ready to put a large deposit on it. After re-shuffling the deck, I’m ready to put a hurtin on some bacon at the buffet, Captain Chaos style!
The remaining days of the trip were more of the same. More food, booze, and gambling. I do have a couple more things to share:
Atlantis is bad-ass, we will vacation there in the future. If you are considering Atlantis, go, it’s like Bellagio on the beach, but better.
My 98lb wife and I drank 48 beers in 3 days on the boat.
I saw more celebs, but never the A-list variety. I saw the Asian guy from Mad TV and a Filipino Matt Damon. I thought for sure I was going to see an actual celeb at the Atlantis, but we didn’t, even though this was going on.
Asian Mad TV Guy
One things for sure, nearly 19 years after our first date, my wife is hotter and cooler than ever. There is no one else I would want to spend 4 days alone with, nor do I know of anyone who could stand me for 4 days. You’re my girl, I love you baby.
Seeing the excitement in my sons eyes when I got home was incredible. He ran up to me for a hug with his arms spread wider than Plaxico Burress begging a ref for a pass interference call.
Now, back to the real world. Fatpickled will be back in business tomorrow.
So as my family, friends, and strangers visit this blog the question is “Fatpickle?” Who or what is Fatpickle? I’m going to try to explain in this post.First of all I’d like to continue to let the legend grow, but it doesn’t pertain to a part of my anatomy. No, if that was the case the blog would be titled Averagepickle (Rebecca this is where you post a message saying that I am being modest, and that I am HUGE!).
I had a friend named Brian in college that would always say “that’s fat like a pickle”. I enjoyed the saying and used it often. Somehow it got shortened to fatpickle, and one day I filled out an office pool and put Fatpickle down as my name. At the time, Porkboy46 (aka Fulltip) and I were roommates in Baltimore, working for this guy. I soon became “Uncle Pickle” to Porkboy’s wonderful daughter. From this point it snowballed. My fantasy football team is Fatpickles.
Fatpickle receives mail. He gets store catalogs, applications for credit, and has been a loyal subscriber to Sports Illustrated since the mid 90′s. Fatpickle also gets phone calls from telemarketers. Example phone call:
“Hello is this Mr……Pickle?”
“Uh, giggle..Mr. Pickle…giggle.. I am calling you today to tell you…blah, blah, blah”
Fatpickle has been around 13 years now, I’m not even sure if I am talking about myself in the 3rd person?
Maybe Fatpickle can be my Randall Stevens, start applying for those lines of credit. Get that nest egg together and Mrs. Pickle and I will head to Zihuatanejo. I understand Fatpickle is a man who knows how to get things.
Fatpickle’s wife is a Dallas Cowboy fan. Yep, you heard me right, Fatpickle who is the Redskins life-long, lives and breathes burgundy and gold, #1 fan, married a Cowboy fan. I too can claim to be a life-long fan because I have been routing for Dallas since I was 5 years old. My parents had a friend, who in my 5 year old mind was the best looking, funniest, most awesome person on the planet. His name was Randy.
Randy was interesting and charming and loved the Dallas Cowboys. Therefore, I too loved the Dallas Cowboys. One memory of Randy that stands out is when we would all go to dinner at the Chesapeake Bay Seafood House. My sister and I would have to entertain ourselves for hours while we watched Randy pick crabs, my parents and his wife having finished long before him. This was to be a precursor to the type of guy I would marry. How ironic that I am still sitting and waiting for my favorite guy to finish picking crabs.
Randy taught me to love the Cowboys when I was young. I didn’t know much about them then, but I was learning to enjoy the competition, to share a common bond with someone special and to celebrate a win. And, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know much about them now, especially compared to Fatpickle who claims to know everything there is to know about his team. He can recite stats about the game and players (past and present) and has become a self-proclaimed addict to a certain Redskins’s blog.
Some will try to criticize that my lack of knowledge prohibits me from calling myself a die-hard Cowboys fan……
I can tell you this….I am a Cowboys fan and no one can tell me otherwise. Nope, I don’t have to know who the quarterback was when I was five (but I do, Danny White), I don’t have to have 8 jerseys and I am not afraid to admit that I had to ask my husband who our backup quarterback was (well, before we were sadly having to use him of course).
So, don’t question Fatpickle’s choice in marrying a Cowboy fan. He’s fine with it….just ask his BFF…..Our house is fun and loud during the big rivalry games. It’s just sad that on Monday morning our beloved Fatpickle will resume his blogging in a hungover and depressed state….he’ll get over it though…he has the other 56 times.
The trades that I talked about last week have produced immediate dividends. After adding Cutler, Quinn, and Addai, I feel I am strengthening my team for a playoff run in The League. Pairing Cutler with Royal on Thursday night produced 86 points for 22 Swinging Dicks, and I lead Sticky Fingers by 109 points heading into today. I feel pretty good about my chances of coming away with a win. My Studs this week do not come with any dialogue, I’m having trouble keeping up with the short NFL week. Cutler is on my list of Studs, as I completed my research Wednesday, but couldn’t post till now.
I love playing the “look it’s someone famous game,” as I am constantly pointing out celebrities to Rebecca and friends. Tonight for instance, Norm Macdonald visited my work. Now of course it really wasn’t Norm, but he looked similar, and he sounded exactly like him. I normally get feedback from Rebecca ranging from “no I don’t see it,” to “oh yeah he does.” It is the later reply that gives me great satisfaction. The greatest moment of this game was a few years back when Porkboy46 and I were having a beer at a little bar in Manassas. I turned to Porkboy and said “look it’s The Stepfather,” and I got the “oh yeah.” That’s when I said “no, it really is the stepfather.” And sure enough, Terry O’ Quinn plopped down in the bar stool next to me and ordered a beer and chicken wings. The game had come full circle.
Here are a few athletes that look like celebrities in my mind. I’m sure there are many more, let me know which ones I missed in the comments section.
mmm..that looks good, and the pot roast doesn’t look half bad either
I love to cook. Whether its firing up the grill and throwing on a nice steak, or challenging myself with a difficult recipe. I just love cooking, and I think I’m pretty good at it. However, when football season rolls around, you got to keep it simple. I can’t keep running outside checking to see how the meat is cooking on the grill. I can’t add this ingredient after a half hour, and saute this ingredient after 2 hours. No, I need simple preparation, dump it in the crock pot and forget about it. Over the past 4 weeks we have enjoyed a brisket from some hot chick, chicken and dumplings twice (they were so good), and today’s pot roast.
Here are my directions for crock-pot cooking:
Put ingredients into crock pot (approximate prep time 10-15 minutes) – grab a beer and watch Terry, Howie, and Jimmy talk about today’s games. Ignore Strahan. Admire Jillian. Drink more.
Enjoy the aroma coming from your kitchen, but relax you don’t have to do anything for the next 5-6 hours, except watch football. Enjoy as many beers as you can during this time.
We’re gonna need a bigger boat
Fill your plate with the delicious treat you have created. Around this time your “comfort food” will start ruining your beer buzz, this is OK. If your favorite team has already played, then you can take a nap during 60 minutes, you need the rest.
This move depends on whether your team won or not. If they lost your probably done for the day, if they won, you get your second wind. You tune into the Sunday night game, or if that sucks, you put on Smokey and the Bandit, and have a couple more beers.
You’re at the water cooler on Monday morning, and you share the gas with your coworkers that you acquired by eating 5 bowls of pot roast and drinking lots of beers. And……you are proud!