RANDOM FACT: Joe now has a new preference in underwear, none....oooooh la la

For those that know me, you know that during the summer, I'm what some would term a "beach bum". Who doesn't love the sunshine with the sand and the ocean and the sweet waves crashing with a nice cool breeze and young lasses in their skimpy bathing suits showing their cash and prizes. I can't think of a place I'd rather spend 2 or 3 hours on a sunny afternoon. But as I grow a wee bit older in my years, the solace of the beach has started to have its annoyances. Children annoy me. I prefer to refer to them as "burdens" and I hate when people don't take care of their burdens. These little sweaty assed pigs are running around, kicking sand onto my immaculate towel like they just hit the lottery and bought the beach. They're flinging mud from their stubby fingers that smell like they've rubbed their ass all day because THEY HAVE. The parents sit there and gab...usually some soccer mom with her repulsive one piece hiding her stomach that looks like a drag race took off there and left deep treads. So as they sit there and talk about Rachael Ray, their boogerfaced burden is screaming at the top of ITS lungs like it just witnessed a lynching when in fact the stupid kid is being chased by a horsefly, dummy! All I want to do is trip these burdens and whisper in their ear, "you smell like shit, clean it up" or maybe buy a bucket of fries and throw it in the middle of a group of burdens and watch the seagulls attack. So as my search continues for the perfect secluded beach spot, I say to all of you who support the burdens at the beach program...you can eat a candy bar outta my ass