Monday, June 16, 2008

Day Trip to: Island Beach State Park, Barnegat Light, LBI, Belmar, and Asbury Park

Choice cuts of boyfriendery yesterday: Surprised C with Exit 63 brutality down the shore in the bitchin Prius. Island Beach State Park up front, but no shots made, cuz the mosquitos were like, "Why can't we have some meats?!" Our bird blind hiking exploits met an imperialist insect invasion, so we hit the rainy beach and fell the fuck out for an hour. I was up at 7:30 making tofurky slice/vegenaise/sprout/'mater sandwiches and washing $500lb. grapes, and the waves lulled the shit outta me. We woke dazed and ruddy and trudged back up the path to see 'Ol Barney.


Neither of us had ever seen it/him, and the prospect of ascending a 19th century lighthouse (2nd biggest in the country) read as all sorts of fogey vacation-core on Barnegat Light's 80's web site. Gloomy and partly shitty as it was, the clouds inimical-ass attitude only served to rad-up the pics, so eat it, Grandma Nature..



The CDB took the crap out of the picture below and I discovered the 36th chamber of the History Brush. After my smoky glare (borne of a minutes -prior Cutter bug spray eye rub) and Spartan 2-4 pack earned me the Prince of Barnegat Light crown,

Takin this campaign all the way to the Light House

we victoriously marched up to the Barney's gatekeeper, who "The way is shut..." 'd us, citing impending electrical storms that would threaten to turn the joint all lightninghouse-y. Seconds after we were like, "Mood: dumped" we met this mofo.


His true colors were naught but beautiful like a rainbow and after our shoot, I walked him to the shrubbery, away from the manic WT paws of errant shore kids.

We rode bikes and made mischief of one kind and another until the rain wanted to get on, and headed to Belmar for a Kaya's Kitchen Sunday vegan buffet. Incredible and way too expensive, we left with gravy dripping from our hooves and tusks. It was a brief ride toward further bloating @ Twisted Tree Cafe in Asbury Park. Pumpkin Walnut muffin'd to the tits, I worked it off by making photos of the AP Casino, which (unlike the rest of the town's development aesthetic) is currently being reanimated with her original vibe intact. Awful (even by central Jersey standards) condos have arisen to gross the shit out of AP this past year and hopefully the city's character will be recognizable when the smoke clears. I'll say a godless prayer that you will defeat the humans, Queen Asbury. You're here, you're queer, and condos can't ruffle your feather boa.

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