Hoot On A Boot!


Last Monday has me stumped. Struggling big time to put it all together in one coherent blogaruu. One which might make some bit of sense. Mental day. Basket case. Random. Dumb. Buckets of fun. New level. Quantity. Quality. Bar raised. Utter nutter. Bit of butter. Already it’s making me ramble into incoherent gibber. Fourth attempt at trying to string it all up. Struggling. Might just have been my randumbest days thus far. So much so, banana split. Two blogaruus. One full day. Open my fingers. Ramble the gibber out. Plough on. And, to make it even more difficult to follow, I’m going to start with Sunday. The day a dog p***ed on me.

Bad Bax

BBQ. Birthday. Chilling. American fun and games. Water slide. People on the box seemed to have more fun. Food. Booze. BB on. Lying on a reclining chair. Eyes closed. Felt something on my arm. Heard people yelping. Looked up. Baxter. The dog. Urinating on me. Pissing on my elbow. Kind of odd. I suppose. What the funk, I suppose. I didn’t even know that dogs did that? Purely thought it was humping only. Anyways, kind of odd. People found it strange. Being honest, I didn’t. Innocuous. Random. Pointless. Happens all the time. Nothing strange. At least thats what I think now. Maybe because what used to be strange now seems normal. Swapped sides. Fully. Monday added fuel to this pointless fire…

An Old Boot!

9 bells. Early doors. Phone rings. Wakes me up. “Wayey man, I’m outside”. Balls, didn’t expect to be collected this early. Giddy up. Looks a bit chilly. Grab my leather jacket. See a hole in the sleeve. The job. Want to cry. Late, so I can’t. Grab my yellow hoodie instead. Out I go. Lift is waiting. Barry V, how are you? V as in the deer meat, as my buddy Maxwell likes to say. Sound man. Being a professional footballer sounded like some laugh! Kevin Keegan years. Sounded fun. Stories abu. Off we go, down to Newport Beach. Surprise birthday party on a boat. Invite from another top man. Quite the host. Knows how to entertain. Dance on.

Being honest, I was expecting a boot. As in a boat. For some reason I imagined a fisherman type of boat. One level. Few chairs. Captain twirling the wheel. Look at the water. Sail along. Get a bit of sun. Regular old boot. I was wrong. This was no boot. In my uneducated seaman opinion, this was more of a yacht. Although I have technically worked for the Irish Navy before. So actually, this was a funking yacht and a half. About 20 of us. On a big old boot. Levels and levels. Bedrooms. Dinghies. Plush. Lush. Captain. Crew. Wining. Dining. Banquets. Goblets! Full on yacht. Mighty altogether. Boot on!

The Jetsons

Off we went. Sailing out to a secluded island for the day. Katalina, I think it was called. Fun and games lined up. Dinghy with a raft like yoke at the back. Lie on. Let the driver go wild. Trying to whip you off. Hanging on for dear life. Arms burning. Teeth gritting. Finally flung off. Some hoot. Kayaks floating about. Next minute jet-skis show up. Again, in my humble opinion, jet-skis take it to another new level.  Pretty slick. Whip off on them. Ripping through waves. Belting along. Jetting it up. Even slicker, get back to the boat, and a savage munch is laid out for everyone. Ridiculously tasty. Whole day just kept getting better and better.

D:Ream On!

Time to head back to the mainland. Bar jumps another level. Champagne flowing. Music gets going. Yacht suddenly turned in a disco boot. Dancers. Prancers. Popping off! Someone doing the worm. Ridiculously well. Two people dancing going in sync. Robot style dancing triggered off. Shoulders popping. People jiving. Dancing through two lines of people. My turn to go. Think we hit a wave. Music mysteriously went off. Walked halfway down the runway of people. Who had stopped clapping. Because of the music. Ended up standing there. Walking on the spot. Great fun. Until the music went back on. And off I went back again. Choruses of ‘Merk! Merk! Merk!’ showering over me (Merrick has evolved).

Singing kicked off. D:Ream’s “Things Can Only Get Better” blasting out over the speakers at one point. Singing along, looking around, thinking to myself… If and when they do… Funk me pink! Savage day. Sound group of people. Not an agenda in sight! Everyone just out for a laugh. Mightiest of life. Hoot. On. The. Boot!

So all that was the fun part of the day. Skimmed milk through it. Blogaruu will serve my memory well. Second book on. Anyways. Eventful. Fun. Off everyone went. Separate ways. Home. To bed. Well. Eventually…

(For any Emericanos or anyone else not familiar with this classic!)

D:Ream – Things Can Only Get Better


2 thoughts on “Hoot On A Boot!

  1. Wow, this was kind of…tame. I wonder what all this success is going to do to your writing. Dont go to the dark side!

    • Fun days seem to read tamely. Good me for, nay so much the blogaruu. Although the evening kicked it up a notch! Dark side all the way!

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