my trip to the beach

So I escaped my house of oppression and was cruising down the A1A feeling pretty suave in my mom's red corvette on the way to the beach. Still slightly happy, I emerged from the car and walked to the crosswalk to walk on the beach. I'm not even out of the car for 2 minutes when a shitty white pick-up pulls up to a stop sign with some degenerates hanging out the windows. I knew it was coming... "SHOW ME YOUR TITTIES!" I so eloquently responded with, "fuck off" and much to my excitement the car truck behind them obliged me and joined in on the conversation to inform me what a "fucking slut" I am. I sure love Daytona. What a classy sort of town. Who knew that Daytona Beach would make my shoebox apartment and "yard" full of busch light cans and shattered class seem respectable. 

I also just made the most extraordinary realization. As my father emerged from his bedroom this evening in only his tighty whities and a beer, I suddenly discovered (while shielding my eyes and yelling) that my father is a shitty, poor man's version of the great Randy Marsh. Except fatter, a lot less funny, and not nearly as cool.