Beach Last Saturday, II

Neat-o, barnacles.

Lucky us, we came on Lifeguard Training Day. I don’t really know if they were training for employment or what, since they were all only about fourteen.

Ahh, the salty fisherman.

Seagull prints in the sand.

This was just hanging out on the coast and I wondered how long it had just been sitting there to be able to grow such copious algae. You’d think some troublesome youth would have flung it at someone by now.

Nnnnnnudity! Tan lines apparently are a major faux pas here.

Oh, my god! Look what happened! Apparently when I was bending down to pick up some shells I got sand stuck to my leg, and I never brushed it off and now look! I have a lobster-red foot, a sunburned ankle, and my legs remain lily-white. Why me? I look diseased!

This did cheer me up, though. I looked at it when I got home and it’s even funnier than I had meant it to be. On the left, we have the husband that looks like he is holding up the magazine in a prudent attempt to shield his wife’s bare front. On the right ... well, that’s just scary.

This dude pulled down his shorts to avoid the dreaded tan lines. However, look what kind of bandy paleness he’ll have going on after he gets home. Why did he even bother with a bathing suit?

A warning of the perils of putting on a bathing suit when not completely dry. I think it looks like a demonic face grunting, ‘Arggh, should have waited’.