In The KISS Navy: The Non-lethal Comforts of a Mid-level Cruise
Everyone I know is full of helpful warnings and advice before I leave Sydney, as though I were setting sail on the voyage of the damned: don’t ever go anywhere alone. Don’t accept drinks from strangers. Don’t get drunk on the deck. In fact, just don’t drink. Definitely don’t do any drugs. Don’t take anyone back to your room. Don’t give out your room number. Don’t catch a cab in the Bahamas unless you want to get stuck on the wrong side of the island. Don’t lose track of time off ship. Don’t look out your porthole, you’ll see the sea pitched at a 45 degree angle. Take anti-nausea medication with you. Tell people you’re married. Do you know any martial arts?
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The weird world of rock and roll themed cruises, the Hairpin.
Personal Bests | The Hairpin
Vincent D’Onofrio was, for a lot of this time, sitting in a chair on the stage which is very tall because he is kind of a giant. He was wearing scruffy black jeans, old sneakers, and a black collared shirt, which, because of the way he was sitting, was popped open a little in the place that reveals a person’s bellybutton and my mind strayed a minute to wondering about if there is and if so how much lint might be in there, and maybe harvesting it, maybe, I was just sort of thinking that for a pleasant moment and tuning out just for a second when Vincent D’Onofrio stood up and planted himself on the stage two feet away and said, “So I was taught to lead with my dick.”
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