we had this massive family reunion at the beach last week. my mom's side of the family, minus her alcoholic brother and 98 year old grandmother all made it down from deleware or raleigh to carolina beach, north carolina. we stayed in this friggin mansion of a place called skipper's crew. even clicking on the link doesn't really do it justice... but needless to say, it was the mother effing bomb.
so dave and i drove up there tuesday night when i got out of class. which meant we were driving in the middle of the damn night. we began our 4.5 hour/310 mile journey at 10:30 pm. idiots. i drove. well everything was cool or whatever until we get on this road named "74" or "76" it was both. whatever. probably because it was uber sketchy. first, we were the only car on the road. period. and it was all foggy and creepy as shit. and dark. we thought we might run over wombats. don't ask. so we pass this huge field filled with life-size figurines of like yogi bear and betty boop. what? i mean, are they serious? two questions came to mind: (1) who the fuck lives out here to put this shit here and (2) who would drive all the way the fuck out here to purchase this shit? wtf. i almost ran off the road. seriously. so weird.
next, a few miles up, we pass the only house on the road that is across the street from the only towing company. the house had a minimun of 20 cars parked in front. you know those canibals throw down spike strips, or as i referred to them - spokes - and made cars like me wreck and then then capture the passengers, kill them, eat their brains and keep their damn cars. crazy bastards. and they use the tow truck in case there is a struggle of sorts. you know it's true. go watch the hills have eyes or wolf creek. it happens, man.
then we passed the strip club a few miles after that. a little puple shack that said something like "wanda's exotic dancing." well, apparently wanda was allowing illegal sex acts and drug participation to occur with her customers and exotic dancers because we saw the little purple hut later that week on the local news being raided by the cops. they took those hookers to jail. crazy hookers.
and a few miles after that we thought we were possibly being attacked. there was this flashing strobe-like light flashing so brightly that i thought it might be god. or a ufo. unfortunately, it was nothing that interesting, just some skeezy antenna with a strobe light affixed to the top. i nearly ran off the road again. i thought it was jesus, man. you'd run off the road too. then i thought it might be the the crazy canibals and got all flustered and i had to turn the air up because i started sweating. and we still had a good two hours to go...
lucky for us, nothing else creepy happened and we were soon done with the road from hell. for entertainment purposes, we chose to speak like pee wee herman and scream nonsense such as "giant underpants!" it never got old. mostly because we were delirious.
we finally got to the house at 3:00 am. whereupon we had to take the motherfucking elevator to our floor. that's how sweet this place was... we had an elevator. be jealous. and as the elevator doors opened for the first time, i was greeted by the sweet sweet saying of "its five o'clock somewhere" in what appeared to be my handwriting on some cute little artsy fartsy sign. foreshadowing at it's finest.
we were awaken the next morning to aunt barbie and aunt janice staring at dave and i saying "oooh he's cute." poor dave. i warned him though. he knew the murphy side was nuts. dave slept most of the day, i got sunburnt and rode some gnarley waves on my boogie board. when i came in later, famished and crispy, dad informed me that my car had been attacked. by mother fucking ants. oh hell no. apparently dave left a tasty coke can in the car and the bastards found it. all 8 billion of them. seriously, every single ant that was at carolina beach was on my car that day. gross. we eventually bought ant killer and sprayed the bitches to death. now everytime i get in my car i get a little high from the lingering fumes. again, gross. and there are little dead ant bodies on my dash and console because i have yet to vacuum. gross.
that night, we got waaaaasted. my cousin david went to pick up his way awesome girlfriend, loren, from the airport that night and they were supposed to be back around 9:00. well the doorbell rang around 9:00, so me, my dave and michael got on the elevator with our whiskey and rode the bitch down. however, it was not david and loren to greet us. it was this poor confused delivery girl. we invited her to ride the elevator with us to find out who ordered food. someone on the first floor did. so at least she came to the right house. i know she thought we were insane. i mean, we were, we were all sunburned and drunk. and we had a stool in the elevator incase anyone got too drunk and had to sit down while riding. dave took advantage of this.
loren and david finally arrived. and we continued our drunkfest. we were supposed to not cuss because my little cousin david (yes, another one -- there were 4 daves total this week) was on the couch next to us in the kitchen. that kid heard every word under the sun that night. and we'd always sssssshhh each other after we said 'fuck' or something, which only exaggerated the fact that we said fuck. eh well. at least he won't be naive...
so at some random moment, david the big cousin got on the elevator. when the elevator came back up, it was empty. it completely baffled us that no one was there... remember, we were really drunk and apparently forgot to remember that there were two other floors in which david could have gone on. whatever. so loren and i get on the elevator. i pull the stool over because i know i am way too wasted to actually stand while riding this machine. we go down to the first floor where some of the cousins and aunts are... i peek my head out of the doors and i'm basically cracking up and loren tells me in the loud drunk whisper to "be quiet and they won't see me" what? does that even make sense. either way, we didn't speak to anyone that saw us and just shut the doors and went back upstairs. david eventually returned from his adventure.
later, i wanted to suggest that we send things to different floors via the elevator. you'd think we'd never seen a damned elevator the way we wanted to play with it. so okay, there was this gigantic silver statue in the corned of the cute blue and yellow beachy living room... of a mother effing bald eagle. really? wtf. this thing had a wing span the legnth of at least one of my arms and had to weigh at least 695 pounds. an estimate, of course, but definitely something like that. between being so drunk i had to sit down for the elevator ride and not being able to control the volume of my voice, i concluded that attempting to move the laquered beast statue may prove to be a very unwise decision. the bird continued to stare at us for the remainder of the night from its creepy little corner. i never got to let it ride in the elevator. poor bird.
the rest of the week we didn't drink nearly as much, but instead spent most of our time fighting the waves on our wicked boards. i got pretty beat up a few times by the sand and my boobs fell out once, i think it was overall unsuccessful, but it was really fun to act like i was 7 years old. oooh and i got to eat like 2 pounds of freakin crab legs. if i had to replace sex with one thing, it would be crab legs. actually, i might take that back. because i mean, i like sex, and crab legs are nothing like it, however they are equally as good, well almost, on a totally different playing field. whatever, the damned crustation was good. that's all i'm trying to say. gah.
we only got to stay through friday, but it was super fun to see my crazy family and let them all meet dave. i think there was a total of 22 of us in the house. i mean, the bitch could sleep like 25, had 8 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, 3 decks, a pool, an elevator and a wicked awesome platinum eagle. what more could you ask for? and it was ocean front. we win.
