Aaron suggests we walk down to muscle beach at Venice Beach, not far, a gentle stroll. Before we're even off the pier, there's some freak show standing there with a sign, before I tell you what it says, there's one thing I noticed on this visit to the states.. there's fuckin people everywhere with signs for one thing or another, begging for this, advertising that, mostly for begging though.
So this clown is standing up on a garden bed with a HUGE sign "Need money for penis reduction" and a bunch of other stuff scribbled around it, including "Photos $1" with a big X through it and "Photos $2" under it.
Firstly mate, no one in their right mind would believe it, which renders the joke lame. Secondly, your personality is like the one mate everyone has, the person who thinks their funny but everyone just rolls their eyes at. Yeah.. that cunt.
Then again, maybe other people find it funny, not me, fuck off mate, try harder to get my dollar.
Muscle beach is an interesting place, I mean, you hear about it, you see it in movie's, but to see it in motion, people doing this of their free will, en masse, was weird. It's basically a whole bunch people showing off. Or it could be a whole bunch of people trying to stay fit using public equipment. Nah, I'm sticking with my first impression, this is America after all, land of the fuckin weird.
The beach is wide, really wide in fact, I found city beach in Perth to be like that, and although it's flat, it gives you a bit of a work out as you walk to the waters edge. It was worth it, the water was cool and refreshing and it really gave me a sense of 'ahhhh I'm on holidays'. Ya know that feeling? Fuckin great.
I take the obligatory Baywatch photo, and we head back toward the boardwalk. We're thirsty. Real thirsty. Holidays in the sun thirsty. "Aaron find us a bar on ya phone" I say, he dials into an app and comes up Finn McCools. Yep, in the heart of Venice Beach we find an Irish Pub. How gauche.
Still, they have a bunch of different beers on tap,Dad goes for a bottle of bud, he's found his flavour and he's sticking to it, unless he finds a cheap Corona. I don't even remember what I had to drink, I know it was beer.. and it was cold.. and delicious. We chat, listen to the 3 piece irish band playing in the front bar, checking our the scenery, then Aaron and I notice the vodkas on the shelf. "Dude they have infused Vodkas here, we should get one" he says. "Ok" I agree, really had to twist my arm on that one.
I'm sure at the time I took a mental note on the names of the vodkas so I could regale friends with these foreign delights, but this is day two, and I drank every day after that, you reckon I had a chance of remembering? I do know that they were local to California, and we had them with soda on ice and they, like the beers, were cold, and delicious. Dad stuck with Budweiser. Pussy.
We start to get peckish, and decide to eat, traditional Irish fare for us, we needed something to sop up the booze before we crash too early.
We decide to leave soon after, not realising we'd been there for over 2 hours. "we gotta get back or we'll end up staying here all night, and fuck that" I say. We get a cab, stuff walking back now.
Back at Santa Monica pier, dad ends up getting sucked into buying these kids flying rubber band toys.. he's pissed, not blind, just on the verge, he's having a good time.
We get back to the hotel and prepare for another assault on West Hollywood.
I'll tell you about it tomorrow.