The fabulous day of many firsts

Thursday, 10 May, Year 10 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

mircea_popescu: anyway, im taking the bitches for a beach trip ; mind holding off till i'm back ?

Because I'm one of the blessed few who can ask politely the flow of time and revolution of planets to take a momentary break ; and they comply. Wouldn't you like a pause button for your universe ? Welcome to the world of my priviledge.

Sadly, the bitches in question forgot to pack any one of a number of cameras, and consequently I'm going to have to recount the encounters of the day. Let's see if indeed ten thousand words are worth a few pictures.

So first off, we met a... baby crocodile. It didn't even take much work -- parked under a copse of palms, dodged the pair of maccaws that flew nearly into my hat as I got out of the car, walked the thirty paces straight to the water and there he was. Dazed and confused, no longer than ten centimeters, yet unmistakably a crocodile! By the nose, by the eyes, foremost by the fucking attitude. Do you understand this itty bitty nothing I could have stomped into the ground barefoot nevertheless hissed and gaped its diminutive maw and threatened me ? Some are born rabbits and some are born apex predators, and they know which they are.

So we let the beast be and went for a lengthy walk on the deserted beach, literally like walking through a painting. And then we sat down, and watched the legions of tiny hermit crabs move over the sand in a direction of interest ; and the hole digging crabs carefully come out of their holes while keeping one eyestalk on us, because you never know. They're hysterical, these guys, they build themselves little cities of holes here and there, connected by little paths and rolled up sandbits, I had some epic shots but no camera to materialize them with. Literally, imagine a soundset city, but of crabs.

And then, we came to a congregation of the turkey vulture guys ; there were about one hundred of them, gathered on the beach, standing still and looking at one, up on a single solitary pole, about three meters tall, like a sort of vulturnian dais. They were all silent, except for the preacher extending its wings in strange, fantastic patterns. As we approached they started to scatter, and when we walked back half hour or so later they were all gone.

And then we sat to watch the sun set among the impossible clouds and their neverosimile vermillion, and as we sat we noticed the crabs are actually eating some delicious white stuff scattered on the beach. I wondered aloud "what, they're vegetarian crabs" ?! It seemed improbable, and then it struck me : the curled up white debris around that slight depression in the sand ? TURTLE NEST! That's exactly what it was, too, were we there for sunrise rather than sunset we'd have doubtless had another one of those on our hands.

And then the girls confirmed that they had packed everything : alcohol, marshmallows, stakes, charcoal, the works. So while they unloaded the coffee and cookies and assorted accoutrements I dug up a little hole, sprinkled a half bag of charcoal in it, piled flotsam atop that, poured about a cup's worth of straight alcohol atop and lit a match. The whole thing went instantaneously, in half a second the pile of blessed debris turned into a lively fire. So we sat, and chatted, and s'more'd, and coffee'd and cookie'd and "may I take off the bra, it's really uncomfortable" "sure, take off everything".

But then the rain started, and the night fell suddenly, so I announced affably to the naked girl bent over, "You're a total beach bum, you know that ?"
"Just look at yourself, naked, barefoot on the beach, being taken from behind like an animal."
"Zi 'is curva'."
"Us coorve."
"Nu tu. Is curva."
"Üs cürve."

And so following. Because if you don't teach the girls you love how to live like streetwalkers, who will ? And besides, "did I tell you that was the wettest I ever was ?" Rain was coming down pretty heavily by that point, of course, yet I suspect that's not specifically what she had in... mind, let's say. Oh, and, "that's the first time I was fucked at the beach" and "that was the first time I was fucked in the rain" and so on and so following. "But don't they have beaches and rains where you're from ?" of course they do... and yet...

They don't have who to fuck them, where they're from. Ye ken ?

Category: Zsilnic
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  1. [...] know, there's oodletons of them at my favorite beach, and we did briefly consider taking one in as a pet, but then it seemed like they'd be very fucking [...]

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