Sun, sand and selective stupidity
Tomorrow, I am going to the beach. I'll be there for a while, so don't go looking for me. While at the beach, I will not, under any circumstances, do any of the following:
- Wear shoes that do not have the word "flop" in the name
- Wear long pants
- Speak in complete sentences
- Think
- Consider anyone beside myself
- Let the fact that I'm not at all hungry get in the way of eating
- Read any book that a student would have to read
- Let beer wait until after noon
While I'm gone, do not touch any of my shit. In case you were considering touching any of my shit, know that I have employed the services of a tall, darkly-dressed German-Filipino and his crafty Korean girlfriend to watch over my shit, with the explicit instructions, "Don't let anyone touch my shit." And let's just put it this way: in the years that these two have been watching my shit, no one has touched my shit while I'm gone. No one.
5 comments:
but, but, you can't go to the beach, there's no hurricane on the radar!
Can I come over and just *look* at your shit? I promise I won't touch anything.
Doug: Yeah, it just doesn't feel like a family trip to the beach without an evacuation.
Christian, you can do that, but to do that, you'd have to at least be touching my floor, which I include in "my shit". So technically, no. But I'll allow it.
You fuckin' die!
Have fun!
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