Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead in this blog, is purely coincidental. www.supershipbottom.com Run-aground Ralph e-mailed me the other day and informed me of a surprise birthday party. He likes to do that, ruining a surprise is his thing. I may have been pissed except I already knew about the party because the Liquor store left a message about an extra keg of Pabst Blue Ribbon ready for pickup on the 12th which just happens to be my birthday. "Oh that bastard," Boston Bob shouted from across the canal after I text-ed him the news. 'No problem,' I text-ed. When we gathered for the Belmont at the Big Game Waterfront Grill I was sure the old bastard wouldn't show but Hottie came with two of her girlfriends from Miami so he slunk in the back to spy on her. Detroit John spotted him and slipped away before anyone else knew. "Ralph, you're a real prick," John told Ralph. The only reply was Ralph's nodding and ch
