Is flippin impossible, so don’t even try,
In my half-baked idea to do an Eighty-Four Glyde entry for each state, I had assured you, (my gentle and ever so wonderful readers. How are you feeling today? You smell terrific!*) that the next state for me to speak about would be Pennsylvania. But, my never-ending travels took me to St. Thomas at the beginning of the month, and I felt that it would be best to write about that while the memories were still fresh** in my mind.
Ahhhh, St. Thomas, truly, it is paradise. As long as your idea of paradise includes more mosquitoes than the entire population of China (and all madly in love with your legs) and liquor stores every five feet, (wait, that part kinda is my idea of paradise.) St. Thomas is an extremely beautiful island. So beautiful that you end up O.D.ing on beauty, (of course, the same thing happens when I look in the mirror for too long, so it’s a bit subjective.) With beaches of such sublime, orgasm-inducing gorgeousness, that you’ll think you died and went to a really, really hot heaven. But before I continue, allow me to give some history.
St. Thomas was discovered in 1604 by Captain Jack Sparrow during one of his seven seas, all-male orgies. He was awed by the clear water, sandy beaches and 89 degree slopes. I mean seriously, that place is all hills. But I’ll get back to that***.
St. Thomas used to belong to the Dutch for a long time, until the early 20th century, when America, (with early aspirations of world-domination) decided to throw its weight around and invaded St. Thomas in a crazy scheme to depose the current leader and bring democracy to the indigenous peoples, (or something like that. Hell, it seems like something we’d do.) Ever since then, St. Thomas has been an island haven where every year millions of WPs migrate for the winter. Their favorite mode of transportation to the island is the over-priced cruise ship.
St. Thomas boasts some of the best beaches in the world, such as Magens Bay, Coki Beach and Joshua Beach, a non-existent beach I just made up to see if you’re paying attention. The best beaches though, are the ones that lie off the beaten path, you need to: be a local, know a local, or swim around the entire island if you want to go to one. If none of these seem like an option to you, the final (and uber secret) option is to stand on the corner of Main St. and Poop Deck Ave. at 3 a.m. with a red flower in your left hand. Somebody will come and give you the map of secret beaches, be sure to bring both an arm and a leg for payment.
Besides beaches, St. Thomas has a multitude of shops for you to waste your money at. Honestly. Bring an assload of money to drop at these places, because you desperately need five googley-eyed shells at $40 each. Trust me. The money you don’t spend on crap, you’ll be spending on over-priced mixed drinks and beers. The good side? You can drink anywhere, I’m pretty sure there are no laws against drinking in public, (I make this assumption based on the cops I saw with beers in their cars.) Also, there are mad liquor stores. I shit you not when I say I visited a jewelry store with a full bar in it. A full bar. I’m pretty sure drinking is the national sport.
When visiting St. Thomas, you’ll probably want to stay somewhere, (stands to reason, I think.) You could stay at a hotel, but only if your idea of a quiet night’s sleep involves the constant patter of gun shots (which, if you’ve been to Iraq, is pretty typical.) Naw, what you want to do is stay in a resort. And not just any resort. I have discovered the secret, secret spot. I mean this spot is so under the radar, I kinda hesitate to tell you about it, for fear that my millions of fans, (okay, ones of fans, I guess) will blow it up and mess the whole exclusive, hidden vibe of the place. But, I know how sweet it is to know about things before they become popular, so I’m going to let you in on the secret. Allow me to introduce you all to Sweet Love Too. The best and most undercover resort you’ll find on St. Thomas. The views are spectacular and the accommodations are the way I picture Mr. Burns’ summer home. Honestly, I thought I had died and gone to Scott Storch’s house. And unlike every single other thing on the island, (except for the price of a bottle of rum) the price for a night’s stay is reasonable****.
Other points of interest include Coral World, any random-ass liquor store and the bottom of the ocean, (I SCUBA dived, one of the more harrowing experiences of my life. I think I’ll leave the bottom of the sea to Spongebob.)
So, whenever you’re in the American Virgin Islands, be sure to stop by St. Thomas to get really wasted and sunburned within two degrees of being well-done. You’ll thank me for it.