Salty weekend with ponies and tiny deer
Back from Assateague, where many ponies and deer were watched. More specifically, where we were watched by many ponies and deer.
I've done two oceans in two months, and I'm vconvinced that they are the coolest, cheapest forms of entertainment doubling as exercise. I am exhausted. The waves were amazingly large and constant, so much so that the left side of my ass looks as if it had been dragged across sandpaper--well, I suppose it has been in a sense, more accurately across the sandy ocean floor. Big waves aren't something to fuck with unless you're willing to have the thing strip off your pants, flip you over and drag your bare ass twenty feet to shore along the gritty, shell-covered beach.
Yesterday, when our little group swelled to seventeen, we moved our loud drunk fun back into the sea for wave action and frisbee tag (irresponsible at best, riotously fun at worst), we freaked out to find ourselves among about a dozen black porposes hopping about and flapping their tails. When we realized the sharkdeath/happydolphin distinction and got loud and playful again, they flipped out, too, rocketing by in groups at high speed. It was as if they heard our loud celebration and were drawn to it, drawn to having their own party just a few feet from the weird human one that was obviously kicking so much ass.
Not so cool was being the only gay one of seventeen hets, mostly couples. Note to couples in general: don't try to pretend to be social with others if you're going to devolve into your freakinsh cuddly twinspeak. That PDA-before-an-audience shit wasn't cool in junior high, and now that you're in your thirties it makes you look needy. It also drives everyone away from the both of you. Also not cool is when one of the guests (with whom I'm fairly friendly) makes it a personal agenda to render the campsite politically correct by starting an argument about the dangers of dead baby/helen keller jokes. When his analysis came to the oddly accusative, "So you don't think that this is an issue of morality, that there is a fundamental distinction between good and evil?" I had to leave because my agitation nausea reached its peak. I hadn't heard that shit brought up since hearing the pastor at my mom's Baptist church damning the inherent evil of homosexuality. Fuck this, it's the weekend.
Those inconveniences aside, the past few days have been relaxing and enjoyable in the extreme. Enjoy this photograph of heinous sausage abuse. I don't eat meat but I still think these things are ridiculous.
Erika the bonehound
This is rushed because I came home to an alert on my door that, due to utility work, I will have no electricity from 10 pm tonight until 6 am tomorrow. I'm glad it's cool outside, and that the only thing in the fridge is some spinach.
It's 9.45--more soon.
I've done two oceans in two months, and I'm vconvinced that they are the coolest, cheapest forms of entertainment doubling as exercise. I am exhausted. The waves were amazingly large and constant, so much so that the left side of my ass looks as if it had been dragged across sandpaper--well, I suppose it has been in a sense, more accurately across the sandy ocean floor. Big waves aren't something to fuck with unless you're willing to have the thing strip off your pants, flip you over and drag your bare ass twenty feet to shore along the gritty, shell-covered beach.
Yesterday, when our little group swelled to seventeen, we moved our loud drunk fun back into the sea for wave action and frisbee tag (irresponsible at best, riotously fun at worst), we freaked out to find ourselves among about a dozen black porposes hopping about and flapping their tails. When we realized the sharkdeath/happydolphin distinction and got loud and playful again, they flipped out, too, rocketing by in groups at high speed. It was as if they heard our loud celebration and were drawn to it, drawn to having their own party just a few feet from the weird human one that was obviously kicking so much ass.
Not so cool was being the only gay one of seventeen hets, mostly couples. Note to couples in general: don't try to pretend to be social with others if you're going to devolve into your freakinsh cuddly twinspeak. That PDA-before-an-audience shit wasn't cool in junior high, and now that you're in your thirties it makes you look needy. It also drives everyone away from the both of you. Also not cool is when one of the guests (with whom I'm fairly friendly) makes it a personal agenda to render the campsite politically correct by starting an argument about the dangers of dead baby/helen keller jokes. When his analysis came to the oddly accusative, "So you don't think that this is an issue of morality, that there is a fundamental distinction between good and evil?" I had to leave because my agitation nausea reached its peak. I hadn't heard that shit brought up since hearing the pastor at my mom's Baptist church damning the inherent evil of homosexuality. Fuck this, it's the weekend.
Those inconveniences aside, the past few days have been relaxing and enjoyable in the extreme. Enjoy this photograph of heinous sausage abuse. I don't eat meat but I still think these things are ridiculous.
Erika the bonehound
This is rushed because I came home to an alert on my door that, due to utility work, I will have no electricity from 10 pm tonight until 6 am tomorrow. I'm glad it's cool outside, and that the only thing in the fridge is some spinach.
It's 9.45--more soon.