Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Dumbass and the Tramps
I was about to hang up from a conversation with Dibsy today when I told him that I was about to go for a walk on the beach by myself. "Gaaayyyyy," he said all monotone and superior. I was like, "Gay? It's not like I'm walking out here with another dude. The only gay thing I've done today is have a 20 minute phone conversation about nothing with a dude. And that dude is you! So if I'm gay, then you're gay to. And that makes US gay! And I would never be gay for you, Dibsy, you gay gay gaywad!" And then we said goodbye and I got to my walk.As I walked to the beach access, I decided to find a landmark so I'd know how to find my car when I came back from my walk. I said to myself, "Okay, when you start walking back, just look for the two hot chicks in bikinis with sexy tramp stamps and you'll know where to turn for your car."So I walked up the beach for about ten minutes. And then I walked back for about twenty. Twenty? Holy shit, I had gone too far. I couldn't figure it out. Where the hell were my hot chicks with tramp stamps? They were supposed to guide me home. They were my landmark. Then I figured it out."Well, I'll be damned. Who knew? Hot chicks are mobile! They had moved. I hadn't planned for that. I thought they'd be there for me. So then I had to turn around to try and find my car without the help of two lovely lovelies showing me the path. I started thinking about what I should have done - what I figured normal people probably already do: I should have used the beach access number sign as my landmark. Not two unparalyzed sexy ladies in bathing suits. I started pondering the bizarre comparison that apparently you can count on beach access signs to be there for you, but not girls. Then I realized I was wrong. Up ahead frolicking in the ocean together were my two stamped tramps. Hooray. They had just moved to the water to splash each other and be all, you know, sexy and stuff. So I stared at them like a weirdo for short while, debated thanking them for getting me to my car, decided against it because they might think that was weird (since it was), and went to my car. The moral of the story? How the hell should I know. I just like looking at girls and finding my car.