Each Saturday of Labor Day weekend, the city of Gloucester holds its annual “Parade of Lights.” Local boat owners gussy up their craft in “costumes” and strings of lights and zig-zag them through the harbor for review. Boats disguised as huge illuminated sharks, skimming the surface with human dummies in their jaws. Or as flaming rockets. Or as SpongeBob SquarePants. After the parade, fireworks blossom and sparkle over all. We always host a big party where, we believe, the real firecrackers are the guests who attend. Like these two (snapped, gracias, by fellow guest Eileen.) Wouldn’t you love to know what bons mots sly puss Nancy (who once “faked” her ashes to deceive her parents into thinking she’d been to Mass on Ash Wednesday) has just delivered to make Kristin (who once yelled down the hallway at the corporation where we both used to work, “I wear these shoes when I want to get f*cked!”) laugh like that? Ladies, please.
No comments:
Post a Comment