Fri, 31 Jul 2009, 12:48pm PDT
My friend Marlin, who used to pitch for the Atlantis Braves, bought a seafood restaurant from a pro ball pal who used to play for the Dolphins until he broke a flipper. He called it the Sand Bar, and it was actually kind of a dive. He floundered for a while since he's herring impaired and wet behind the ears so he had to tread water for a time. He got in too deep (he had haddock) and couldn't take the pressure, then went through a divorce and had to pick up the Pisces. He felt like the fathom of the opera for awhile, a real mussel head, but his ex wife was such a crab and she was always steamed and he got tired of that line and of being baited by her giving him the eye. There was always anchor in her eyes and she was way too shellfish, always calling him a kelpless shrimp with a small deck. Once, she even gave him a case of the clams. Another time, he almost sucker punched her for hooking. The way he tells it, she would surely have needed a sturgeon but he said he found cod instead.
He was pretty good at sea horse racing tips, the best to come down the pike, especially if you slipped him a fin.
I do like his policy of squids eat free and I trust him cause he used to work for the Mako clinic.
The entertainment is a sole music grouper but the bass player, Gil, has a big mouth and he tends to get tanked since he always in the drink.
Still, Marlin is game and maintains a troll sense of humor in the wake of all this. And buoy oh buoy he is having a whale of a time, chums.
Sat, 1 Aug 2009, 5:39am PDT
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From the song "Wet Dream" by Kip Adotta: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6l1GvDWtccI)
It was April the Forty-first, being a quadruple leapyear;
I was driving in downtown Atlantis.
My Barracuda was in the shop, so I was in a rented Stingray,
and it was overheating.
So I pulled into a Shell station; they said I'd blown a seal.
I said, "Fix the damn thing and leave my private life out of it, okay, pal?"
While they were doing that, I walked over to a place called the Oyster Bar.
A real dive. But I knew the owner; he used to play for the dolphins.
I said, "HI GILL!" (You have to yell, he's hard of herring.)
Think I had a wet dream, cruisin' through the Gulf stream.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Wet dream.
Gill was also down on his luck.
Fact is, he was barely keeping his head below water.
I bellied up to the sandbar; he poured the usual: Rusty Snail, hold
the grunion, shaken, not stirred.
With a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich on the side, heavy on the mako.
I slipped him a fin, on porpoise.
I was feeling good; I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's Squids,
for the halibut.
Well, the place was crowded. We were packed in like sardines.
They were all there to listen to the big band sounds of Tommy Dorsal.
What sole. Tommy was rockin' the place with a very popular tuna,
"Salmonchanted Evening", and the stage was surrounded by screaming groupers,
Probably there to see the bass player.
One of them was this cute little yellowtail, and she was givin' me the eye.
So I figured this was my chance for a little fun.
You know, piece of Pisces.
But she said things I just couldn't fathom.
She was too deep, seemed to be under a lot of pressure.
Boy, could she drink. She drank like a...
She drank a lot.
I said, "What's your sign?"
She said, "Aquarium."
I said, "Great! Let's get tanked!"
I invited her up to my place for a little midnight bait.
I said, "C'mon baby, it'll only take a few minnows."
She threw me that same old line: "Not tonight, I got a haddock."
And she wasn't kidding, either, cause in came the biggest,
meanest looking haddock I'd ever seen come down the pike.
He was covered with mussels. He came over to me; he said, "Listen, Shrimp.
Don't you come trollin' around here." What a crab.
This guy was steamed. I could see the anchor in his eyes.
I turned to him and I said, "Abalone! You're just being shellfish."
Well, I knew there was going to be trouble, and so did Gill,
cause he was already on the phone to the cods.
The haddock hits me with a sucker punch. I catch him with a left hook.
He eels over. It was a fluke, but there he was, lying on the deck,
flat as a mackerel, kelpless.
I said, "Forget the cods, Gill. This guy's going to need a sturgeon.
Well, the yellowtail was impressed with the way I landed her boyfriend.
She came over to me; she said, "Hey, big boy, you're really a game fish.
What's your name?"
I said, "Marlin."
Well, from then on we had a whale of a time. I took her to dinner;
I took her to dance; I bought her a bouquet of flounders.
And then I went home with her.
And what did I get for my trouble? A case of the clams.
(Chorus x 2)