I need to remember to pick up my clothes from the dry cleaners for my trip to Mexico tomorrow morning… which is a strange, out of place thing to say when referring to Mexico. “Dry cleaners? What could you possibly have at the dry cleaners that you would need in Baja? Do you martinize your ratty shorts and flip flops?”

No, in fact, I do not, but I’m taking a short 4-day cruise and the idea is to keep the illusion going that I’m some super-pimpin’ uber-guy over the course of the trip. For the ladeez, you see. The captive ladeez that can’t get away save for jumping overboard.

The fact that these ladeez will most likely be 50-something divorcees is something I choose to ignore for the time being.

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