Late Nights, Ocean Delights

Wow.

You guys were busy working on the revolution and pushing the barriers, while I was once again counting sea shells and drinking copious amounts of white wine while listening to waves crash ashore.

See me down there. I'm the one with the wine.

I’m glad Shannon posted that bit about the chimp riding the vehicle. If you give a monkey a typewriter he can eventually tap out “War and Peace.”

If you give him ten minutes he can write a blog post twice as entertaining as mine.

Since I won’t be winning any awards for effort this month, short of claiming some sort of participation in the successful capping of that oil disaster, I’m going to go with a series of strange coincidences that befell me one evening after a long day on the beach.

No one wants to put up much of a fight in the battle to find quality television on basic cable after a certain hour, so while I lay there like a beached sea creature I caught some infomercials and a couple of “where are they now?” type of shows.

I don’t know if you were around back in the day, but five minutes into the “what ever became of so-and-so” introduction they’d sped through the “Where’s the beef?” lady, Mickey from Life cereal and one I had to dig deep to remember at first glance.

It was Susan Powter of “stop the insanity” fame. Do you remember her? She was like a hyperactive, blond Brigitte Nielson version of Jillian Michaels, except now she reminds me of a ferocious, dreadlocked, Nancy Spungen-tinged Kate Gosselin.

Still the same shtick, except now you can pay some outrageous amount of money for motivational DVDs, cooking DVDs and what appears to be personal training.

It took all of sixty seconds for me to reach my annoyance threshold and I flipped three times only to land on Richard Freaking Simmons.

I don’t know about you, but after enough wine I begin to think the television is trying to get a message across to me in the same way I think that CAPTCHA can read my mind when I’m leaving a comment on another persons blog. So, then I felt like maybe I should get up and sweat to an oldie or do a cartwheel in the sand to make Richard happy.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with fear that I had thrown in the towel, become a traitor and been reduced to watching washed up weight loss gurus from the 80′s and 90′s.

Thankfully, it was time for a refill, so I was able to break away and read all the alarmingly good posts here at triple F’s that I DIDN’T write because I had effectively dropped out of society to sit under a colorful umbrella and make sand castles that would have really thrilled Antoni Gaudi.

I think my sandcastle was better than this, but the experts disagree.

So here I am, dropping back into life and trying to climb aboard the current events wagon I fell off when the weather got warm.