Dropkick Murphys at the Stone Pony, outdoor show. Quite the belly of the beast. Sausage fest of for the most part adorable Irish guys. Good thing there were no fires on the Jersey coast that night. Sometimes I think I should explore my mother's side of the family heritage a little more...
Hungover, headwinds, soaking wet running shoes I accidently left in the rain all night...a mere slogging five miles the next day. A beer and salt sloshed Red Sox game the next evening, and vacation is over.
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