“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Beach Trip: Day Six


Nibblin’ on sponge cake
Watchin’ the sun bake
All of those tourists covered with oil
Strummin’ my six-string
On my front porch swing
Smell those shrimp they’re beginnin’ to boil

Chorus:
Wastin’ away again in margaritaville
Searching for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
But I know it’s nobody’s fault

I don’t know the reason
I stayed here all season
Nothin’ to show but this brand new tattoo
But it’s a real beauty
A mexican cutie
How it got here I haven’t a clue

Chorus:
Wastin’ away again in margaritaville
Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
Now I think
Hell, it could be my fault

I blew out my flip-flop
Stepped on a pop-top
Cut my heel had to cruise on back home
But there’s booze in the blender
And soon it will render
That frozen concoction that helps me hang on

Wastin’ away again in margaritaville
Searching for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
But I know it’s my own damn fault
Yes and some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
And I know it’s my own damn fault

Song: Margaritaville
Artist: Jimmy Buffett 1977


So yeah, we went to Margaritaville tonight.

I hit the tri-fecta of Jimmy Buffet food-related items:

The Cheeseburger In Paradise.

The Strawberry Shortcake (Spongecake. It's in the song.)

And God only knows how many 'License To Chill' Margaritas.

The verdict?

The cheeseburger was pretty good, but then I'll eat damn near anything with bacon on it. I could get a bacon sandwich with a side of bacon with bacon on it and wash it down with orange juice with chunks of bacon in it.

God I'm manly.

The strawberry shortcake was Ok, but it certainly wasn't worth what I paid for it.

The margaritas were fucking great though. Of course they fucking jolly-well should be in a place called 'Margaritaville'. My only complaint was that they were a bit light in the alcohol department. I found out later that was due to South Carolina being a 'mini-bottle-law' state. Anyone that's been to say, Utah (Rich, I feel for ya buddy), knows what I'm talking about.

Anyways, between the ocean and the alcohol, I'm exhausted.

Oh, I've decided I'm not coming home. I'm gonna stay here and be a pirate.

Jimmy thinks it's a good idea.

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