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Sunday, August 11, 2013

Sand in my Pantsies OR How We Went to the Beach OR See Fat Woman Have Fun With Captions

Warning: Snarkiness contained within.  Just sayin'.

Recently our 9 year old daughter begged us to go to the beach, so we caved.  Off to Pensacola Beach we went.  I forgot my camera but hey I had the droid and let the captioning begin.
The view from our room.  So far so good.  No
sand in the pantsies yet.
This is the bracelet the hotel wanted us to wear 24/7
because they apparently have problems
with people coming onto their property
and stealing their pool from their guests.
I wanted to compare this to a tattoo but I didn't want
to tick anyone off.  Seriously I felt like I had been
tagged by the Beach Patrol.  (Like they held us down while we
were tranquilized and tagged out bodies.  It was depressing.)
Also now I have a cheap, nonremovable bracelet
nontan line there.
We did immediately go to the beach and collect a gazillion broken
shells, which I kept throwing away when the kid wasn't
looking but then she caught me and I had to keep them.
However I didn't bring
my phone with me and thus pretty much didn't
actually take many pictures of the beach itself.
But here I am drinking an alcoholic drink and enjoying
its Kahlua goodness while under a fan.
(Yes, there was sand in my pantsies.  In fact, I think
there was sand in places that my proctologist doesn't
know about.)

One of the few times Cressy was actually
at the table.  It turns out that most of the
restaurants in this area have playgrounds
because they know about the families who visit.
The playground is off to the right and that's where
she spent the majority of the time while I drank
my Kahlua infused icy goodness in a shady spot.

And I won't leave out HIM, who was enjoying a beer.
HIM said he didn't have sand in his pantsies but
I think he was lying.
Doesn't this look like a man with
sand in his pantsies?

This restaurant we were at had everything.
Alcohol, fried shrimp, and actual Cuban refugee rafts
we could admire.

See.  The restaurant even had a begging cat.
Let me tell you.  I couldn't sit there and eat while
there was a skinny cat looking at me.
The cat ate more of my shrimp than I did.
Of course, when I went to the bathroom, after
drinking the entirety of my Kaluha goodness,
they had a mark on the wall that showed us
that we should be thinking about
hurricanes.  (Way to make tourists relax!)
I feel like a beach trip blog without an actual beach
shot seems silly, so I put in an old one.  This is Virginia Beach,
but it's the same ocean, right?
The restaurant also had an old truck.  Booze, playgrounds, skinny cats,
deep fried shrimp AND rusting vehicles.
My God, it was like a veritable wonderland.
 
See.  HIM and Cressy were so happy they hugged the boat
on the outside of the restaurant on the way out.
They wanted to take one of those bicycle cabs but I couldn't
do it to the poor skinny bastard.
Coming soon... Part II - More sand in the pantsies and "How did that get sunburned?"

5 comments:

R. Mac Wheeler said...

Definitely...he had sand in his pants.

nobich said...

I especially loved the picture of the beach- hahahhahha

bunny holland said...

Looks like Bubba started a beach hotel.

Marilyn Drury said...

Where else would a sane person be if they were in the south in August? I too would be under a fan with icy alcoholic goodness!

Marilyn Drury said...

Where else would a sane person be if they were in the south in August? I too would be under a fan with icy alcoholic goodness!