Journalism
So I'm at Mexico...
I decide to go out with my sis and my bro-in-law, roaming around the Rocky Point strip drinking. Apparently this is shocking, like they asked sarcastically, expecting the negative. I'm having fun, and somehow playing a somewhat decent game of pool. Then, the idea of going to a topless bar comes up, and they're for it. Except for timid 'lil me. They ask me if I'm sure about a dozen times over a few hours. They talk about it, how I should, how it's nothing (to them--after all, they're under no one's thumb) and I refuse and they accept my plea. It doesn't bug me too much, but after we return home I hear my BIL say how much my dad wanted them to take me to a topless bar. I guess paying a woman to see her topless is the male equivalent to a driver's test.
What's a boy to do? That's right. Get drunk on a dark, low tide beach, by myself, under the stars and half moon, singing Love Song to myself. What would Orion think? He was never pressured to be lustful. He was shot with an arrow by his lover, though. I suppose that's much worse.
I found a lot of cool sea shells, but I only kept the really awesome ones. Perhaps I'll show you.
It was really windy for most of the trip, which wasn't so bad. It kept it nice and cool during the days. Except it made it too cold for me to swim, and too dangerous to kayak. It does feel pretty damn good, though, to sit on a porch, again dark and alone with the stars and Selene, listening to the waves crash, drinking several cervezas, feeling strong winds breathe new life into me and blowing self-malicious thoughts out of my mind. That, I assure you, was quite cathartic.
I finished one book, and got half way through another. I was also mocked for reading during vacation. Whatev.
I don't what else to say other than FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE TALK TO ME.
I decide to go out with my sis and my bro-in-law, roaming around the Rocky Point strip drinking. Apparently this is shocking, like they asked sarcastically, expecting the negative. I'm having fun, and somehow playing a somewhat decent game of pool. Then, the idea of going to a topless bar comes up, and they're for it. Except for timid 'lil me. They ask me if I'm sure about a dozen times over a few hours. They talk about it, how I should, how it's nothing (to them--after all, they're under no one's thumb) and I refuse and they accept my plea. It doesn't bug me too much, but after we return home I hear my BIL say how much my dad wanted them to take me to a topless bar. I guess paying a woman to see her topless is the male equivalent to a driver's test.
What's a boy to do? That's right. Get drunk on a dark, low tide beach, by myself, under the stars and half moon, singing Love Song to myself. What would Orion think? He was never pressured to be lustful. He was shot with an arrow by his lover, though. I suppose that's much worse.
I found a lot of cool sea shells, but I only kept the really awesome ones. Perhaps I'll show you.
It was really windy for most of the trip, which wasn't so bad. It kept it nice and cool during the days. Except it made it too cold for me to swim, and too dangerous to kayak. It does feel pretty damn good, though, to sit on a porch, again dark and alone with the stars and Selene, listening to the waves crash, drinking several cervezas, feeling strong winds breathe new life into me and blowing self-malicious thoughts out of my mind. That, I assure you, was quite cathartic.
I finished one book, and got half way through another. I was also mocked for reading during vacation. Whatev.
I don't what else to say other than FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE TALK TO ME.