Flo ri da
I can’t regulate my temperature in this place. It’s either central Africa hot or air conditioning can’t keep up cold. No in-between. Cut the heat drinking in the pool… drop into a cryogenic coma once you return indoors. At one point my limbs tried to follow my genitalia on their retreat inside of my body for warmth. I had to shower to prevent permanent disfigurement. My system is discombobulated and I can’t self correct.
I also woke up with a massive hangover and an odd craving for the three colored coconut candy from the Brach’s Pick-A-Mix stand. For those not old enough to know what the hell I am talking about I will find an olde timey add for your viewing pleasure. hols please while I ask the Google…
*EDITORS NOTE: I wrote this yesterday morning with a massive hangover and have no idea where I was going with the post. I also never shook my craving for an odd candy from my childhood. And I also had no idea they were called Neapolitan Coconuts… My friend and I were over served the night before accomplished nothing the entire day and it was great. Today all is well but that’s why you get that weird opening half thought…
Moved down the road two miles to another hotel for conference number two in two weeks. Upon checkin I was informed that my status was about to change into the top tier and they would like to upgrade my room.
This is the view from my dining room at which table I now type, (took this picture yesterday with the aforementioned thundering hangover) bedroom is that open door on the right, bathroom complete with carwash shower leads into the foyer and next to that is the kitchen. Full length balcony in case I forget what breathing in a steam room feels like.
No idea what’s going on with that metal cage sex chair but I know a black light would not be its friend. I’m choosing to pretend it doesn’t exist as I roam around my temporary dwelling. I could easily live in this much space and have no business in this room.
The hurricane hit Orlando with a glancing blow including high winds and heavy rain but nothing compared to what I’m seeing on the news feeds. I was with some Florida people during the height of the storm and they said that you don’t need to worry until Jim Cantore shows up in your town. Direct quote “that muthafucka loves to get blown around while shits gettin destroyed.” seems like a solid correlation.
I can’t wait to leave this state and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.