Here are two of the very good reasons why, even when the internet decided to work (thanks dude whose spotty but entirely unsecured wireless allowed a few quick interludes with the internets) I didn't manage to communicate with the outside world from the beach.
Tobin ponders life's imponderables.
Like is it really gross to pee in the ocean? I mean, the fish do it...
Jack... providing a very clear example of why I find myself frequently replying
"No, he's not of mixed race. Unless you count German and Scots as mixed..."
I did manage to participate in 2 rousing games of scrabulous online. I was tired and needed a distraction besides the 5 awesomely trashy romance novels someone kindly left behind at the beach house. Yes, 5. My brain is so full of a jumble of slutty lifeguards and sexily earnest cowboys it's a wonder I haven't made Big Daddy do some dress-up role play with me. I call dibs on the role of jaded-but-secretly-romantic executive with the hots for his secretary. Honey, prepare to take some dictation -- if you know what I mean. And you know you do.
3 comments:
i gave you an award! come see! :)
LOL! Nothin' is better when you are already brain dead than a little simplistic fantasy lurvin' - cowboy, businessman, college professor. Woo hoo!
We prefer the hot librarian and naughty patron who's great at checkin things out (if you know what I mean...and I know you do :) but needs to be punished because he can't seem to turn things in on time :) HA
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