Where was I? Oh right, Naked Reading. So there I was down on the dock, blissfully soaking up some destructive UVA/B rays, my epidermis cheerfully mutating at the cellular level, when I was rudely interrupted by a boatload, yes I said a boatload, of yahoos (listen well children: a long time ago in a far off land, there existed a world without the internet. In this magical place, access to porn was scarce and the bastardization of the English language had yet to begin; yahoo = redneck, oaf, boor). A boatload of yahoos cruising into the bay for an annoying looky-loo. You know, a slow drive-by rife with obnoxious music, macho tales of hook-ups past (purposely uttered a little too loud), the sound of Kokanee beers being cracked open and of course, the subsequent sound of empty Kokanee cans being smashed against hollow, spray-tanned foreheads. *sigh* well if that don't just set a girls heart aflutter...
Now first things first: if you own a speed boat, one of those souped-up, godawful, fueled-by-machismo speed boats, fuck off. Just fuck right off. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $100. Don't even read to the end of this post. Close your browser window, shut off your computer and fuck off. I'll wait.
Secondly: if you are a self-respecting late-20-something male in a speed boat (see above) and are looking to improve your masculine appeal, here's a tip: only prepubescent girls think Ashlee Simpson is cool. FACT. So, why then, was she blasting from your over-priced (but, like, totally bitchin') sound system in your even more over-priced speed boat? I am confused. You LOOKED like a guy. When the words "Boo Ya!" fell across your lips you SOUNDED like a
Although my nakedness had me rather restricted in the immediate actions I could take (think: Crazy Cat Lady from the Simpsons. But naked. And minus the cats. On a lake. But not in Springfield. Whoa, this analogy is rapidly slipping away from me......aaand its gone. As you were.) against your offensive assault on my nude reverie, it was irrelevant in the end as my intense anger dissipated the second Ashlee started singing "l-o-l-o-l-o-v-e l-o-l-o-l-o-v-e." I'll give you this - it is a catchy song. But c'mon. Seriously? The song "L.O.V.E."? Did you forget you had a penis? (If that happens often, may I suggest tying a string to it and the other end to your hand - so every time you give another "bro" a high-five, you will be reminded that you are in fact a Y-chromosome-toting neanderthal). There are so many other
So instead of screaming at you losers to take a fucking hike and hurling any available projectiles at your boat (Fun Fact: pinecones and empty sunscreen bottles are really not enough to do significant and un-repairable
P.S. You weren't any more charming when you came back at 10:30 that night just as I was falling asleep, blaring your Goldilocks Rap (not too Black, not too White, but juuuuust right) and screaming (with great eloquence) "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" I can only hope that you awoke in a half sunken boat sporting a large hole in the hull from your buddy thinking it would be "dope" to set fireworks off in the cockpit. And please God, let there be a little (entire stomach contents worth of) puke on the new leather seat you special ordered from assholeswithtoomuchmoney.com. You know, the one with the naked lady hand stitched on it to let the rest of the world know that you like women (that extra $250 really WAS worth it!) even though you spend your days in a speed boat with 3 half-naked men. And I pray so very much that the stereo system is in a few (thousand) pieces after your juice-monkey friend went all roid-ragey on it when it wouldn't automatically skip to track 3 (c'mon Chad, not "Sk8tr Boi" again!) no matter how loud he screamed expletives at it.
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