Warning: Two disgusting images ahead. Stop reading now if you don't want to see them.
Life at the beach moves at a slow pace, but it doesn't lack for weirdness. One of today's odder group conversations took place in the pool, as several of us discussed the enormous flap of skin hanging from Kyle's foot--a flap that until recently had been a callus. Kyle was (understandably, at least to men) rather proud of his huge callus and at various points offered these two observations:
My left foot has a big enough tongue to French kiss a woman.Not long thereafter, as the topic turned toward dinner plans, Sarah offered this line:
Chicks dig the fleshy tongue.
I'm up for anything as long as Kyle's fleshy tongue isn't involved.Speaking as her father, I have to support her position.
Just how big is this skin flap? I'm glad you asked. Check it out for yourself--and note that I did warn you above.
Later, for the very dinner we'd been discussing, we opted to try a place that had been good last year but that was suspiciously low on customers.
We won't be going back.
Many dishes motivated this decision, but none more than what my nephew, Chase, received when he persuaded the kitchen to bring him raw oysters.
After Chase received his glass of oyster sliminess, this exchange occurred:
Waitress: Is this what you expected?Seriously, no one expects the oyster goblet.
Remember: I did warn you.