Shoutout To This Legendary Sea Isle Dad Who’s Blacking Out On 302 Kit’s From Henri’s For Mother’s Day

 

If John’s looking for a 27 year old who offers very little, consistently blacks out on the weekends (but consistently makes it to his bed), some would probably call selfish, isn’t technically messy but maybe forgetful when he leaves the milk on the counter overnight and it spoils, BUT somehow has a mid-700s level credit score and little debt (sup ladies) to go with a high motor that runs long enough to polish off the last of the 302s and some late night beers, while debating why Eddie Jordan running the Princeton offense in 2009 is the greatest travesty in Philadelphia sports history – I’m up for adoption.

John’s as much of a Sea Isle dad as they come. He definitely owns a place on the Bay between 52nd-64th off of Central so him and the ‘Ol Ball & Chain (John’s nickname for his wife that still get’s laughs from his buddies) can ride bikes to Kix McNulty’s or the OD for No Shower Happy Hour. He’s right around the corner from the park for when his first daughter pops out a little crib midget, so he can begin his stranglehold on the Grandpa of the Year dynasty he plans. He cares about three things – his boat, the bar he built in his garage back in the Winter of ’17 when he’d drive down every weekend so it’d be ready for Memorial Day, and Secret Service at the OD. John treats Secret Service like he’s seeing Aerosmith for the first time back in ’82 at the Spectrum. From Halloween to Memorial Day he rotates his three favorite pullover vests of Penn State, the 2013 U.S. Open at Merion, and a Vineyard Vines one he got in a gift bag for playing in his neighbor Tommy’s Member/Guest. Polar Bear Plunge makes him feel young again. And his greatest accomplishment is when he made it to his first and only “Napkins” at the Dead Dog last summer. A hangover he still might be nursing today from the sugar rush delivered by Bent Elbows.

I hope John’s performing his own version of the War of 1812 for this Mother’s Day. Unfortunately, John and I probably aren’t going to be able to share a 302 together at Braca’s this summer, but I can’t wait to shake his hand next Plunge when this all passes. Everyone take notes because John is putting on an absolute clinic on how to be a future Sea Isle dad.

Happy Mother’s Day, John.

 

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