I always said I'd never vote for anyone who puts their nickname on the election ballot. A few come to mind: Alicia "Chucky" Hanson, Terrence "Positive" Nelson, and Pedro "Pete" Encarnacion. So that's my new nickname for PriceSmart on St. Thomas.
Maybe he'll come to get you if you do not heed the WARNING and DO STACK MERCHANDISE.
How lazy was I? Too lazy to get out of my car to shoot this sign that was ten feet away from me. So you are viewing it through the spiral staircase, which I feel adds a lovely, chopped-up element to it.
So I decided to meet friends at Francis Bay this afternoon. After a late start, and with slightly cloudy skies, I headed up North Shore Road at 1:00. Hawksnest was packed, which should have been my first sign. At the Trunk Bay overlook, five (yes, five) Jeeps were parked and their occupants had walked down to Trunk Bay. Why? Because after the paving was finished at Trunk, they (Park Rangers?) put rocks on the side of the road so visitors can no longer park there when the lot is full. Really, now? Trunk is one of the top ten beaches in the world, but there is very little parking, and now there's even less. Brilliant.
I drove by Cinnamon, which was full-to-overflowing, as was Maho. At Francis, I parked way down at the end of the road, and flip-flopped my way around the mud puddles, splashing mud up the back of my legs. Grrrrr. There were people EVERYWHERE. The people sitting next to us had one level of volume when they spoke, and that was LOUD. Really, I don't want to hear about your wife's rug burn. Like my girlfriend said, "I'll give you rug burn, buddy, if you don't shut the hell up!"
I was there for maybe thirty minutes when the thunder and rain started, and the wind was whipping umbrellas, rafts, and beach toys all over the place. Pretty comical, actually. I shot this picture on the way up King's Hill Road. Once at Bordeaux, it was a gigantic white-out, and the wind was fierce. No photo because my camera is not waterproof. There's no place like home, there's no place like home.
My wife and I are moving to STT because work is relocating me. We are tremendously excited because we have vacationed there several times, and have always talked about packing it in one day and moving there. Here is the problem, my wife is a bartender, she has a good job here, and we understand that she will make less there. That's fine. Our worry is whether she will be able to get a job! She has a felony criminal record for lewdness because she was caught relieving herself on someone's lawn after a long night of drinking when we were younger. Believe it or not, yes that's a felony here in NJ. Will this be a major problem, or will people kind of laugh and understand like they have here?
From Urban Dictionary, regarding "Parking Lot Police":
One who has nothing better to do with his/her life, besides taking refuge in an old parking lot with a pad and a pen, and taking the license plate number of every driver that does something wrong in said lot; in some cases taking it upon themselves to write you some sort of ticket or go vigalante.
Driver: *driver taps another vehicle while creeping out of a tight mall parking lot*
Parking Lot Patrol: *takes notice to the careful driving, but notices that the driver bumped another car, hense springing into action and attempting to take the plate number of driver.
Driver: *notices that the loser is writing his plate number down, so he then backs over her, leaving an indentation of his plate in her forehead for later reference*
*Start campaigning on St. John with this expensive and ridiculous truck;
*Name political appointee after political appointee, and then continue to borrow;
*Use over $400,000 of taxpayers' money to make improvements to the governor's private residence;
*Evict seniors from rent-to-own housing communities after their mortgages are paid off;
*Not issue four years' worth of property tax bills;
*Ignore paying 2009 tax returns;
*And jump up for Carnival 2010, without a care in the world.
I guess I am the jackass, after all.
Revived in 1952, carnival has become the second largest festival in the Caribbean. A month-long series of dazzling pageants and talent shows is held to choose royalty to rein over the festival. A series of elimination contests to crown top performers are called Calypso Tents. Calypsonions offer satirical commentary on the state of the islands, oftentimes mocking the shenanigans of politicians.