Tuesday, January 3, 2012

"What are you? Some kind of half-assed astronaut?"

Quint: [seeing Hooper's equipment] What are you? Some kind of half-assed astronaut? 
[examining the shark cage] 
Quint: Jesus H Christ, when I was a boy, every little squirt wanted to be a harpooner or a sword fisherman. What d'ya have there - a portable shower or a monkey cage? 
Hooper: Anti-Shark cage. 
Quint: Anti-shark cage. You go inside the cage? 
[Hooper nods] 
Quint: Cage goes in the water, you go in the water. Shark's in the water. Our shark. 
Quint: Farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, you ladies of Spain. For we've received orders for to sail back to Boston. And so nevermore shall we see you again. 

Today was my first day at a new job. I was greeted with hugs and bagels. There was also a giant platter of lox to accompany said bagels. Superbeast readers know how I roll with the "bacon of the sea." I love that slimy shit. 

A couple of quick notes from today. My pal Josh sent me a link about hybrid sharks off the coast of Australia. A scientific phenomena for sure, and likely the hell's bell toll of our final demise. When big sharks start boning bigger, meaner sharks, we can kiss our pasty, seal-like jaundice asses goodbye. We're doomed.

In other shark news, I listened to Peter Benchley's Jaws on audiobook as I combed through coastline and redwoods on highway 101. I've read the book before, and I've probably seen the movie 200 times, but I wanted to immerse myself in some research before floating a single beer coozy in the ice-cold waters that fill up the Bay Area. The big fish is the apex of the food chain in this abyss, and scarier to me then stepping in a freshly spiraled pile of hot bum shit (also big in these parts).

The first day has been great, by the way. 

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