Once upon a time I lead a jet set-life.
True. Thanks to the generosity of Continental Airlines. On a whim I could be in Chicago watching a Cubbies game and two nights later having lunch in NY with friends. I traveled.
Boy did I travel. All over the world. That was when life was simple. No husband, no kids. My play ground of choice back then was the Caribbean or anything where I could pack a carry-on with little more than a thong (before the expansion!) and a few odd pieces of fabric called clothing. I found it totally orgasmic to sink my feet into the sand soak up the sun and enjoy a nice cool refreshment amongst the natives and oggle at the cabana boys. Fast forward,
wait, that hasn't changed! No worries. Ever. (well there was that time on a cliff in Cozumel...another story-right Jod?) The pictures you are gazing at that's me perched(ass looks wide from this angle--must be the camera?) on the "Tuna Chaser" (aptly named!) are some "sugar babes"which meant drinks, dinner and
whatever for the ladies) we met in St.Thomas or St. Johns or St something many years ago.(too many Saints to remember). I use to "lure" them in with the famous Rony "dock-walk"(
not this) and then I would strike with my posse'! I think it might have been the red high heel (I shit you not) shoes that were the bait. Didn't need any fishing loures here! They did request when coming aboard to removing all spikes.
Lol.
Yeah--we caught this beauty! We trooled it for hours in the big ole "gyno" chair. He was huge. Well, I thought he was huge. Unfortunately we had to tag'em and let'em go.
Once upon a time I lead a jet set-life. True. Thanks to the generosity of Continental Airlines. On a whim I could be in Chicago watching a Cubbies game and two nights later having lunch in NY with friends. I traveled. Boy did I travel. All over the world. That was when life was simple. No husband, no kids. My play ground of choice back then was the Caribbean or anything where I could pack a carry-on with little more than a thong (before the expansion!) and a few odd pieces of fabric called clothing. I found it totally orgasmic to sink my feet into the sand soak up the sun and enjoy a nice cool refreshment amongst the natives and oggle at the cabana boys. Fast forward, wait, that hasn't changed! No worries. Ever. (well there was that time on a cliff in Cozumel...another story-right Jod?) The pictures you are gazing at that's me perched(ass looks wide from this angle--must be the camera?) on the "Tuna Chaser" (aptly named!) are some "sugar babes"which meant drinks, dinner and whatever for the ladies) we met in St.Thomas or St. Johns or St something many years ago.(too many Saints to remember). I use to "lure" them in with the famous Rony "dock-walk"(not this) and then I would strike with my posse'! I think it might have been the red high heel (I shit you not) shoes that were the bait. Didn't need any fishing loures here! They did request when coming aboard to removing all spikes. 
Lol.
