It was a sad summer's day. The rain was softly dripping of the green trees. No birds were to be found singing. It was a strange sight for a summer's day, almost unnatural. And it was on that strange day that three scoundrels, playboys, outlaws decided to take things into their own hands. They were Hans, Vincent and Denny. They set sail for Aruba, an island where only the most fearless ones could ever hope to surive. They were the Musketeers.



Enough of the weird talk, I may have had a drink or two before writing this. You see, I had this fantastic idea based upon a theory about how our memory works. Our memory is state-dependant, meaning information is remembered better when the person is in the same mental, emotional, or drug-induced state as when it was learned. So to help me remember everything that happened on Aruba, I drank. It did not help. But what I can do is find some pictures and see if I can remember more things.



As the pokerplayers we all three are, we decided to play some live poker. Vincent managed to hit a Royal Flush, and he even got paid off ánd got a ~700$ bonus. He also was very easy/cheap to make him do things, as you can see in the second picture. It's too bad we didn't bring the camera on the day Hans and I 'bought' the permission to pour 10 pina colada's (all inclusive, what up) in his swimming pants. Front and back. It was legendary. Poor dude almost fainted, apparantly it's really really cold and painful. Awell



Of course, we went partying every night. We had a cool chef who told us what the best places to be were and he did not disappoint us. I really can't recall much of what happened during those nights, but it was definitely awesome. I do remember something with a pool party and that I woke up with Hans on the beach some day (NO NOTHING HAPPENED, IT COULDNT BE) and started taking group pictures with people who didn't know us or each other. We were also chased by a huge dog and we had to litterally run for our lives. And I think I gave a massage to a black woman in the sea. She was not good looking.



We had this game what we played a decent amount during the day called 'Strepen' (striping in English). The rules are simple. You basically throw plastic cups filled with water at each others backs. It sounds easier than it is though, you have to throw it without the water falling out and you have to put speed and power into it, but maintain your accuracy. When done correctly you'll hear a nice slapping sound when it hits the back and it will leave a beautiful red circle. Hans was the man of the powershots, Vincent had a good mixture of power and accuracy. I just failed. I mean, I did allright when we were taking turns, but when I bought free stripes on Vincent, things just didn't roll. Our show did intrigue some people on the beach though. Two sisters and their mother had been making up entire theories about why we held the cups the way we did and had a good laugh at the expression of fear on the face of 'the receiver'. I now also remember that we did this game naked in the swimming pool after we met some crazy americans. The guy on the right was a gold searcher with metal detector thing etc. going through the sea.



Before we left we decided to do a couple of rock paper scissors for the next things:
- Shave of a part of your eyebrow
- Wear boxers over your pants on the trip back home
- Wear the red baret for the trip home
- Wear socks over your hands

I lost the first three. Hans the last one. We also decided to buy us some ugly sick hawaii shirts.

Well, that's all I can think of right now. It's probably not the most cohesive thing you've read, but I had an amazing time with two really cool dudes and can't wait to do something like this again. I'll leave my pokerupdates for the next entry.

kisses,

Denny