So I went to the beach recently.
I don't know what it is about beaches which attract unwanted, unattractive and overweight housewives in their mid 40's to the shiny sands to unsheath their breasts of destruction before my eyes. Or the hoardes of old men in speedos running towards their fried chicken picnic basket in slow motion like the Hoff. I really don't.
Sometimes I wonder what it is about the beach that makes people feel alot more comfortable with their bodies. I know a couple of flap-titted women and saggy old men who like to strip down at the beach but wouldn't do so at a pool party, for instance. I suppose strength really is in numbers. I bet they have some underground cave where they convene on how to make my eyeballs burn. Actually no, it's the 21st century, it's probably just a facebook group.
Honestly though, when it comes down to it. Strip down the homosapien's facade of exclusivity and intelligence and beneath it all in very simple terms we to are just animals. Like animals, I suppose we feel more comfortable in a group. In a family, an extended family, a beach? Like a bunch of zebras we feel less insecure and scared when in a herd. So lop-sided titties, wrinkly ball sacks unite at the beach and feel good about yourselves. (Just not in Sydney please)
The topic of the beach reminds me of this occurrence about two weeks ago. I was walking from my college towards the train station when class had just finished, which takes about fifteen minutes. It also happened to be raining like hell. Being pedantic and meticulous I hurried ahead of my companions and brought out my trusty umbrella of hope whilst audaciously remarking that they should begin to read the forecasts. I walk out into the rain, open my umbrella, and it falls apart. IT LITERALLY FALLS APART. The structure of it looked completely rusted and snapped in multiple places which baffles me as i'd used it the day before and it was fine. In any case it did manage to pluck some nerves. It looked like a limp dick. It was about as useless as a limp dick too. It left me holding it above my head with copious amounts of liquid pouring onto my face. Golden shower anyone? :)
Sometimes I wonder what it is about the beach that makes people feel alot more comfortable with their bodies. I know a couple of flap-titted women and saggy old men who like to strip down at the beach but wouldn't do so at a pool party, for instance. I suppose strength really is in numbers. I bet they have some underground cave where they convene on how to make my eyeballs burn. Actually no, it's the 21st century, it's probably just a facebook group.
Honestly though, when it comes down to it. Strip down the homosapien's facade of exclusivity and intelligence and beneath it all in very simple terms we to are just animals. Like animals, I suppose we feel more comfortable in a group. In a family, an extended family, a beach? Like a bunch of zebras we feel less insecure and scared when in a herd. So lop-sided titties, wrinkly ball sacks unite at the beach and feel good about yourselves. (Just not in Sydney please)
The topic of the beach reminds me of this occurrence about two weeks ago. I was walking from my college towards the train station when class had just finished, which takes about fifteen minutes. It also happened to be raining like hell. Being pedantic and meticulous I hurried ahead of my companions and brought out my trusty umbrella of hope whilst audaciously remarking that they should begin to read the forecasts. I walk out into the rain, open my umbrella, and it falls apart. IT LITERALLY FALLS APART. The structure of it looked completely rusted and snapped in multiple places which baffles me as i'd used it the day before and it was fine. In any case it did manage to pluck some nerves. It looked like a limp dick. It was about as useless as a limp dick too. It left me holding it above my head with copious amounts of liquid pouring onto my face. Golden shower anyone? :)
