Bigass Rocks at the Isle of Skye.

The Isle of Skye is a little place just off the coast of Scotland or at least that is what I'm told. Although the scenery is very beautiful, Skye lacks a key ingredient...The Golden Arches (I couldn't find them and YES I was looking). They may not have had my favorite 5-star restaurant but they did have 'Sweet Home Alabama' and many following enthusiasts. I went with a large group (of losers) and I would have to give the award of "Ethnicities Marty Hates" to...Europe...bigtime. I'm kidding "Just A Lil Bit" (a semi-recent hit from 50 Cent). I miss Mario and the crazies that visit his house.





Guess who I saw taking a bubble bath here.







Name: 'Unknown' (although I had a lot of inapproriate nicknames for it)
Sex: 'Unknown'
Age: '23' (what a disgrace to MJ)
Blood Type: 'Dumbass'
Home: 'The Neverland that is Total-Dog City'
Interests: '1) Celtic knots on the small of back and also around (rather beefy) arm. 2) Blending Traditional Irish Dancing with a new form of movement which is also known as Gettin' Jiggly Wit It. 3) Being an all-around (and that's a lot of around) loser.
Summary from Photographer: 'This thing is the definition of the stereotypical American who loves talking about how Irish they are but knows jackshit about Ireland. After disclosing rather subtle hints of it's Irish heritage (i.e. 'Hi, I'm Irish.', 'I'm pretty sure that the tour guide [who has been doing this job for over five years and is a Highlands native] is wrong because I was told that those clans came from Ireland', and the fan-favorite 'Ireland is like a second home to me, I just got back from Dublin. Ireland really isn't like anything I expected, sitting at home in [The Neverland that is Total-Dog City] I really thought it was going to be totally different. But yeah, it was sooooo cool.') On a cold, windy night, this thing decided to sit upon a ledge (known as The Throne of Ugh) where it modelled for everyone. After performing it's new version of Irish Dancing (see above) it decided to cool off outside in a (green) t-shirt in weather that was labelled "FUCKING FREEZING" by many. As the wind rolled off each disgusting hair on it's body any onlooker could tell that this was a powerful moment in this thing's life. As it looked out into the distance it knew that it could finally go back home and tell even wiser and greater non-interesting stories about how Irish it was. It had finally made it to the mother country...wait a minute...isn't this...Scotland?'

WOW. I wonder where this kid is from.




Advertising ruins (pronounced roons) another picture.



This is our guide Graham. At first I thought he was going to be really annoying but we became best friends. He even told me not to worry because he would be "daddy". Gross.