You know… It’s not every day you get caught in the middle of a 50 boat, super-speed, super-loud, super-tiny penis compensation, “Poker Run” while gingerly sailing up the Bay for a nice afternoon at anchor. I liken the experience to being back in the old west, plodding across the eastern plains of Colorado. As I happen to toss a glance back over my shoulder I see a hundred indians thundering towards me, arms raised, in full battle regalia and screaming wildly. I’m forced to only utter a simple, diminutive phrase, “holy shit.”
You can see a short video clip here.
How bout’ that… A tiny slice… of Miami Vice… right here on the Bay. Now aint that nice.