Hostylefax: I don't know what that means

The cast of 34 spent the past (long-) weekend in Fort Lauderdale, courtesy of Sheryl's folks, who live right on the beach. While falling asleep to the sound of the ocean has long lost its novelty for me, it was a wonderfully relaxing time in general, and I even coaxed Sheryl into taking a dip in the ocean with me (sans water wings!).

Most of the photos were taken on a boat tour of Fort Lauderdale's intercoastal waterway. The tour guide had a major hard-on for Wayne Huizenga, who has several houses (I hesitate to call them homes, as one is dedicated purely to entertaining while another house is being redone) on the shore.

As anyone who knows us would expect, the highlights of the trip were culinary. One night we dined with Sheryl's aunt and uncle on (what I'd assume to be authentic) Cuban food; another night was fresh, and theoretically healthy, modern bistro fare. Our last meal in Florida was at the Aruba Beach Café. I can't find a menu online anywhere so you'll have to take my word on this, but one of the items they served was a Greek salad with blackened dolphin. Sheryl ordered this of course. In fairness, she'd been ordering Greek salads every chance she got on the trip after a traumatic incident on the Song flight over: we were in the last row and they ran out of their Greek salads by the time they got to us. In any case, dolphin is apparently edible and having sampled a small bite, fairly tasty. It's reminiscent of swordfish. I still feel a bit dirty about it, though.

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