Thoughts from the Beach

Written by Father Time on July 18, 2005

So the Fadda took the chance this weekend to head over to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Got me a good sunburn under cloudy skies and almost puked on some spinning ride my son made me go on. You’re basically flattened to the wall of this spaceship thing and, then all the kids crawl around the walls, while the teenager running the ride is sitting in the middle and waving her hands above her and acting like she’s tripping out. So many humans I wanted to slap.

The highlight of the weekend was not the deceptive sun or the almost-vomit or the annoying teenagers. The highlight of the week was when one of the Rehoboth Beach lifeguards got into it with a gigantic man-woman a good 100 feet away from him. A thunderstorm was threatening, so they shut the beaches down, which meant everyone not only had to get out of the water, but also get off the beach. So I’m walking down the boardwalk towards some average Irish restaurant where I eventually had lunch, and I hear this blaring whistle to my left. I see your typical lifeguard, blonde hair, tan, red shorts, gay little life preserver thing by his feet. He’s standing there with his arms spread open and looking at this monster of a human being, who’s happily walking toward the water.

(blaring whistle)

“Hey! Yeah you!! (Lifeguard vehemently waves arms toward boardwalk)

Fat person keeps walking.

(looooooooooooooong whistle)

Fat person stops. Looks.

“Yeah you, moron!! Hey! Are you special? Are you a special person or something!?!? Get the hell off the beach!

Fat person ponders. Then decides to return to the boardwalk.

Good times. This, of course, happened with the entire beach community watching. Now, I realize that said lifeguard was not being professional and all, but, as a hater of all people oblivious, I say bravo, rude lifeguard, bravo.

All Things Fantasy. Yeah, I got nothing. Although I did purchase the new Harry Potter book.

Tiger Wins Again. He’s great and all, but he really needs to work on his victory celebration. That short little two-fist pump is seriously lame. Also, Mrs. Tiger Woods was wearing waaaaaaaaaaay too much clothing. Just a sports bra, honey. Come on. And can a black belt please take a photo of Tiger on his downswing, just so I can watch Steve Williams get his ass kicked?

Tim Duncan sucks. No, I’m not still bitter. I’m just saying. Apparently he’s the best power forward ever. Nevermind that he’s a center anyway and the only reason he played that position is because the Admiral was already there. I suppose by that argument Hakeem Olajuwan’s also a power forward. I’ll take Mr. Garnett over Timmy T. any day, by the way. Duncan’s not even the best power forward playing now. Also, he’s boring and chokes all the time. Plus, Robert Horry sucks. And so do the NBA Finals refs. What?

NFL Questions. Can anyone beat the Pats yet? Is Gus Frerotte really starting? And even more incredulous, do people think he’s actually going to do well? How long will Joey Harrington survive as QB after he starts off with another crappy season despite having arguably the most talented group of young receivers in the game? How many times will Madden compare Brady to Montana this year? What if ESPN puts Stewart Scott and Chris Berman in the booth to do the NFL games? Which Favre relative will die this year? How many quarters will Eli Manning last? How much more will Joe Gibbs ruin his reputation? How many hundreds of coaching mistakes will Mike Sherman make this year? Will Jerry Rice continue to believe he is a number one receiver? And of course…Ricky Williams?

Can’t wait. Well, except for the Tom Brady thing.

-- Written by Father Time on July 18, 2005