I have a very special beach routine. First, I get a good book. Then, I spackle on a few gallons of 55 sunblock, hire barkers to roam the beach to warn the innocents of impending atrocities, and, once I feel the populace has been duly warned, crack open said book, unveil my ghostly limbs to the snickering hordes, and strike them blind with the glare. As ambulances clear the beach of bodies, I read a few pages of said book, and then am knocked into unconsciousness, as if Tasered by that terrible stuff that comes out of that big hot light that banishes the moon. Eventually a loved one throws me in the trunk of the car, and I consider summer well lived... More >>>