Alcohol island

Since all of Puerto Vallarta was dry this weekend, Puppy had the grand idea of procuring copious amounts of alcohol and seeking out other activities that didn't involve a bar that served only sodas and food.

Thus, he gave a shady Mexican some pesos in return for the promise of a yacht tour where we could bring our own booze. Yesterday morning, we trekked out to the dock to see if there was a boat waiting for our party of 10 or if Puppy had been swindled.

Fortunately for us, a boat scooted us along, to a little cove where lots of other boats had docked with equally sober passengers. The boat captain threw some Wonder Bread into the water and some beautiful tropical fish started a feeding frenzy. All of Puppy's friends snapped on their goggles and popped in their snorkels and dove into the waters.

As I adjusted a pair of goggles, I noted that several of my amigos complained about getting stung by jellyfish. Puppy lasted approximately three minutes before clambering back on the boat, complaining of sharp stings. Thus, I made the decision to abandon my goggle adjustment and wait for the snorkelers to finish their little fun. Fortunately for me, a few minutes later, all the gays were back on the boat and we were on our way.

We left the snorkeling area and ended up on a nearby island that was serving alcohol! We stayed on the beach, ate Mexican food and drank pina coladas to our hearts' content.

When our time was up, we returned to the gay beaches of Puerto Vallarta, where we sat in the sun with our hidden bottles of booze and ordered virgin frozen lemonades and enhanced them before sucking them down.

Thank goodness Puppy and Periwinkle had the foresight to purchase some boozes and to book a little four-hour cruise once they learned about the terrible Fourth of July weekend ban on al-key-hauls.