In The Nick of Time

Hello there faithful readers, boy do i have a treat for you. I have mentioned before that i may at times have guests on my blog. Today is the first of those days. I have invited someone to be the very first guest, so without further adue, ladies and gentlemen Mr. Conway Twitty. And now my second guest, Bundles of Bungalo with a tale of his adventures.


This spring break was the first in my 19 year history that I actually went on vacation…kinda. The Merrimack lacrosse team spent spring break playing two matches down in North Carolina and I tagged along. I am redshirting this year and didn’t see how my presence was needed but apprently my coach did so I was dragged to the tar heel state. Fearing that a sudden rainforest would grow over the highway forcing up to swing from vine to vine the 20 miles from North Andover to Boston, we left at 7:30 am for our 12:00 pm. By what can only be seen as divine intervention the rainforest held off putting us in the airport at 8am. Now that we dodged the rainforest bullet we now faced the real possibility that a mountain would spring up between the entrance and the ticket counter forcing us to hire a Sherpa to continue our voyage. We thought ahead however and hired a Sherpa named Nima, once we realized her services were not needed we payed her her carton of free range eggs and sent her to whence she came. We have now arrived miraculously at the ticket counter at 8:01 am. We were now under the four hour mark form our flights departure and the time crunch was felt by all.


After somehow avoiding the numerous natural disasters that could have plagues our journey through security (IE: Hurricane, Tsunami, Tornado (skip to 21 seconds), and Horny Joe Namath) we arrive at our gate at 8:10 am, thankfully just in time to see the boarding of the 8:30 flight to Daytona. Now as anyone who has ever been to an airport knows killing three hours and 50 minutes at an aiport is as difficult as singing without a machine is for kanye west or making a free throw at a clutch time is for a Memphis player or going to college is for some of the readers of this blog. After occupying ourselves we finally boarded the plane. The flight was pretty uneventful mostly due to the combination of all white passengers and no snakes on the plane.


Now came baggage claim. The closest thing I can relate to baggage claim is back in the day when maybe you were at your little league practice and everyone is being picked up and you’re the last kid there and you have to keep ensuring the coach that mom is in fact coming and you don’t need a ride home and no you don’t need a hug. That’s the closest thing I can think of to the feeling that engulfs your soul as everyone on the plane has there luggage and your standing at the carousel waiting for your bag that looks like every other fucking bag ever made so your half thinking that some scoundrel has abscounded and is selling all of your shit on EBAY and the bidding is so intense that the people are being forced to purchase the goods at the buy it now price. After the long wait (which is understandable because there was a rush to get my bag on the plane) my bag finally emerged. Now before I continue I must inform you of one fact we were traveling with 38 people, 38 full grown men. These 38 full grown men now had to embark upon a 2 hour journey from the airport to the hotel.

To be continued... Bungalo will give us the rest of the story later on this week. I may have a post of my own in the coming days if not i will have one next week after my trip to the Forzen Four in DC.


I love you too and I’ll talk to you soon,

Brendan McCarthy