Beach bum

A turkey will eat grain until it explodes if you let it. They don't get full. That's me with raspberries. I bought a flat of them an hour ago and they're gone now.

Well, I'm officially a beach bum. Today, after a sweaty walk back to the apartment carrying six month's worth of toilet paper, I jumped in the Puget Sound all by my lonesome. Just threw my swimsuit on, crossed the street and leapt right in. Didn't even bother to put on flip-fops.

My hair is salty. My swimsuit smells like seaweed. There's sand in the bathtub. Next thing you know I'll be hanging a 'sandy toes welcome' sign above the front door and nailing a decorative miniature surfboard to the wall.


Things I may do now that I live by the beach:

• Buy a pink flamingo lawn ornament to sit by the window.

• Walk the beach in my housecoat (aka duster) in the middle of the night just to scare people.

• Get a bike radio and cruise the strip.

• Film a new DJ Polite / Mogsquisha video (we have an idea)

• Take steel drum lessons.

• Start a Kickstarter campaign so I can buy ONE OF THESE.

What's that? You want to see my housecoat? Oh I suppose. Because you asked.

Thanks to my sis Anna who gave this to me as a housewarming gift. She's the best!

Love, 

Margaret