The first person that mentions this post is hopelessly out of chronological order will receive a beatdown.

Earlier this summer, my friend Kara purchased a boat. Recently, she was kind enough to invite me up to the lake to hang out on the boat with her and Stacia over Memorial Day weekend. Normally, I would not be inclined to visit the lake, because it is [1] OTP and [2] overrun with rednecks. However, since Kara is really fucking cool, I accepted the invitation.

The biggest downside to boating is getting up ridiculously early to arrive at the lake at a reasonable hour, since the Army Corp of Engineers conveniently built it 60 miles away from Atlanta. I think they should have turned Gwinnett County into a lake. That way, I could sleep in and the world would have been spared several hundred thousand acres of drab strip commercial development, billboards, and shitbox houses. In conclusion, Gwinnett County is marginally less ugly than Houston.

Upon arriving at the marina, we loaded the boat up with two coolers full of beer, a couple bottles of wine, one bottle of vodka, various other sundry items, and two dogs. While loading the refridgerator, Kara found me an ice cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, which I promptly drank. After stowing everything securely, we pulled out of the slip and headed onto the lake with the goal of meeting Dion and Mindy.

About this time, after reading the lable on the Harp Lager I was drinking, I was stunned to discover that it is imported from CANADA and not IRELAND. I want my fucking money back. In contrast, Guiness, the brewers of Harp, will ship a metal sign from fucking Dublin. But not the beer. Bloody wankers.

It soon became apparent that meeting up with Dion and Mindy would be much more difficult than originally anticipated. After much time spent looking for a nice sailboat with two masts and several phone calls, Mindy’s father, Carter, was dispatched to find us.

By this time, I had consumed several bottles of Harp Lager. So, I had a bit of a swim while we waited for Carter to find us.

Eventually, after a few more bottles of Harp Lager, Carter found us. Upon arriving at the cove, we discoverd that we had actually been there earlier in the day. However, the navigator failed to recognize the cove since several new docks had recently been built.

Kara docked the boat and we joined Dion, Mindy, and Carter on the platform on top of their slip, which was about twelve feet above the water level. Shortly thereafter, Dion removed the railing and proceeded to jump off. Since he survived, I took off my shirt and jumped as well.

We chilled there for most of the afternoon. Later, as the light began to fade, we piled back on the boat and headed for the marina.

The trip back to the marina was uneventful and relaxing. It was nice to chill on a boat and watch the sun set across the water, even if I did have to go OTP to see it. After arriving back at the dock, Kara cooked dinner for herself and Stacia, while I hung out and drank. I watched part of a hopelessly dorky movie with them and then headed back to Atlanta. Once back in town, I showered and headed to The Earl to meet up with recurring Propeller Skies characters Michael and Lara.