My other ride is your mom

We had a fantastic storm here in Jersey City last night. Absolutely fantastic. I was walking back to the office from the bank and was wearing my favorite black skirt that I live in these days (black circle skirt with black flip flops, tank top, and a braid - it's the best ensemble on the planet) and had to hold on to it for dear life as the gusts of wind tickled my knees and threatened to relieve me of the skirt entirely. I laughed. The guy sitting in his car at the light gawked, hoping for a show, I'm sure.

I want to go fishing. I haven't been since I was about 7 years old. Dad used to take JC and I out on his friend's boat. Deep-sea, baby. His friend was an ass. His name was Mr. Prekosky, or Peroski, or something I don't remember. He was definitely an ass though. I left my brand-new sneakers at the dock one time that we went. They were pound puppy sneakers. They were the bright and shining item in my life at the moment - they DEFINED my life at that very moment and I went ahead and left them on the dock. I'm not sure how I got home like that, my shoelessness escaping the notice of my father. It wouldn't have happened if Mom were there. Moms notice that sort of thing. They notice when your pound puppy sneakers are missing. At any rate, my buddy Rob has been taking out the boat recently and fishing for striper bass. Apparently this is very good fish. I wouldn't know. I've been wanting to go out on the boat all week but it hasn't panned out. I'm so clueless when it comes to these things. I'm no fisherman. I don't know my ass from my elbow when it comes to these things, but it just seems like the appropriate time to fish. And seems sort of pleasant. Fish guts and Pabst blue ribbon - so nice.

I'm ready for Friday. I long for Friday. I'm definitely going to DC this weekend. Can't get out of this one. It's Brandon's birthday and he is aching to get out of town. So we're going to DC. Not sure what we're doing, not even sure where we'll stay - but we'll have a raging good time, I'm certain of it. Perhaps see Dr. Brian and his pooch, Isaac again.

Help me out - I'm trying to think up a joke involving a toothbrush and non-dairy creamer. It's near impossible.