My Name Is Earl...
or who invited your sorry ass on my vacation? 


Okay, so last year Geo and I took our annual trek to the Jersey shore to spend quality time with family, basking in the sun and surf for the last time of the season. It's usually the BEST time of year to go...warm, sunny, hardly a tourist in sight... Except for last year. 


Last year Nora, the Nefarious Nor'easter decided to invite herself to our beach-blanket bingo. And Dude, she would. not. LEAVE! 


She was miserable. Acting like Debbie Downer, whining, dropping an ocean of tears on our parade-literally. And to add Margarita salt to injury, she drank all our liquor! 


Little whore.


So now this year her inbred, dim-witted cousin, Earl is trying to horn in on our bon temps rouler. Uh-uh! Oh no you don't! I am not sitting next to your windy ass all week. You can just move on up to Massachusetts, because there is no room for you here. 


And don't even THINK about touching my vodka.