Oak Island: Memories from a dreamer

Very few things in this world leave me speechless and awe-struck: a midget covered in Ranch dressing holding a sledgehammer, Swedish bikini models making out at a country bar while doing the electric slide, and the awesome peaceful power of the ocean. For whatever reason, when I travel to Oak Island and stand on the deck staring out over the beach at the blue oceanic waters beyond, I can’t help but feel humbled and calm. The kind of calm that comes post-coitus or from eating large quantities of chocolate. The kind of peaceful serenity that can only be described by sappy love poems and feminine freshness commercials. When I stare out at that ocean, I feel a peace wash over me that seems to quell the stress and corporate anger that stirs within.

Someday, I will live on that beach. Someday, I will stare out over the sand at that ocean, and breathe deep the calm and peace that Poseidon’s realm offers up to me. I will close my eyes and hear the soothing sounds of the waves crashing down against the shore and know that I am home.

Until then, I am forced to work in this corporate creativity mind-trap and drudge up ways to get myself out of this vicious circle of doom and despair. That, along with as much rum and group bunny as my body can take, should keep me sane until my inevitable move to beach bliss.


Ok, enough of that depressing stuff. Stay tuned for yet another edition of Shanshu’s Random Lists, which will be all about the Oak Island bunny beach bash and the sordid details of rum parties and hot tub nights. Tuck in the kids, grab your mug, and prepare for tales of sandy debauchery and orgasmic ocean outings!!