Thursday, August 03, 2006
Freakishly Relaxing
You'd think that 50 degree water, sharks and strong currents would deter these tiny monsters, but no. They were out splashing on their boogie boards most of the weekend - emerging from the sea only when all their extremities turned a deep purple. Hubby was surprised they weren't all taking part in his favorite childhood beach activity - eating Vienna sausages rolled in the sand. Personally, that's not my thing either, but then I have given myself neck injuries from walking, head down, searching my eyes to the bone for sea glass.
Point is - we're all nuts in our own purple, sandy, crane-necked ways but we all love the beach. What kind of retarded things do you do at the beach? I love to hear about other people's weirdnesses - especially when it involves something disgusting like Vienna sausages.
For the adventurous daredevils out there, please witness the staggering agility of our new wildly swerving kite. Oh yes, please prepare oneself for the danger and extreme "Fear Factor-ness" that is flying a kite on the beach. I love that the people in the store called this a sport.
They're like all, "Oh, if you're really taking this sport seriously, any good kite is going to be over $100" and "Ooh, this Foil (apparently a fancier word for Parachute-ish Kite) is so freakin sweet - it will drag you all over the beach!"
Uh. People? It's a kite. You stand still while you fly it. Even at my most EXTREME moments I barely move more than a few feet - and then only one lazy step at a time. I can drink a beer while flying a kite. Sometimes, I've seen people get tired of holding the strings and just tie their kite to the cooler. Then they can drink their beers without the hindrance of the pesky string tugging their beer away from their mouths.
Let's call it what it is - something to do while you enjoy a cocktail. I don't need it to be anything more than that. And I'll still throw down a hundo for a kite, despite it's Non-Sport status. What we should call it is a Drinking Game.
Rules: While continually drinking your cocktail, try at all costs to nail your friend/SO/wife/husband with the kite. It doesn't matter if the kite crashes into the ground. It doesn't matter if your friend/SO/wife/husband loses an eye. All that matters is that you get blind drunk while moving as little as possible and inflicting as much hilarious pain on someone else as you can while holding the two handles of the kite and your happy-hour beverage of choice.
See example:
Apparently this was at the beginning of the game, since I'm holding the camera and you will notice a lack of stumbling or face-first falling - those are clear signs that I've already been playing Drunk Kite Flying.
In this footage he fails to actually hit me with the kite, but worry not, I caught this bad boy in the noggin a couple times, had it launched off of my face and got my necklace caught up in it's reins on one particularly unfortunate occasion that ended in me flailing my arms and squawking like a snagged seagull.
All in all though, a fun beach activity. Just let's not call it a sport.
Now you get a better idea of the freakish wonderfulness that was our long weekend at the beach.
And, Cheers!
2 comments:
[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]
Look at you commenting, that's fun.
So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.
Sucks, right?
Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.
But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.
Cheers.
Ahhh!!! You totally friggon kill me, I can just see you slurpin' on a beer, scratchin your ass, and a cigarette hangin' out of the corner of your mouth, slurring and cusing at the stupid kids that made you spill your bud light on yourself...
ReplyDeleteLOL!
Okay, no cigarette. :)and mabye some sort of foregin ale....
When I am at the beach, and I am not entertaining the tot with my retarded-ass football throwing skills, I like to look for sand dollars, that and I do my best at finding the seaweed with the bulbous pods with water in them and squish them with my toes!! Pure delight.
:)
I feel like i was almost there. Except the cool air part. Oh, and the joy of actually being on the beach.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you two had such a lovely trip. It makes, "go fly a kite" sound much more appealing!