It’s time to head to
the beach. The heat around here has been
like 12 yards of hell so I might as well go where there’s strings of seagulls
in flight, sand, salt water and briny air to make the heat more bearable.
I’ve loaded up the PT
Cruiser and my furkid, Sophie, will ride shotgun.
This visit, one of
many I’ve taken of late, will not be to help my friend who was recovering from
carotid artery surgery but to have sheer fun.
My itinerary will include renting a jet ski and terrorizing the sea
life, shopping at Broadway On The Beach, enjoying a night out at the Carolina
Comedy Club, pigging out on seafood and homemade peach ice cream and ogling the
hunky menfolk with killer tans who smell of coconut oil.
My friend’s son has
planned a pool party replete with burgers and dogs and all the fixin’s. Admittedly a pool is not the same as swimming
in the ocean. What it lacks in
excitement, it more than makes up for by not having scary critters trying to
bite you. Sophie has her own doggie
floatie to join in on the fun!
Proof is going to look after the place while I’m
gone. I’ve let the cops know to keep an
eye on him.
See ya soon. Take care everyone!
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