LIfe's a beach
A day at the beach with the boys…surfing, boarding, whatever. Trying to make the most of the time, because this is something we have been unable to do for many years, given living in the car and being homeless. A mere few minutes after these two pictures were taken, I was attacked at the beach by a thug, who ran up to me from behind, then tackled me into the sand, even though he could see I was carrying a cell phone, which he broke. His heavily tattooed lizard buddies were laughing.
I asked him why? He kept laughing, reminding me that I was lucky, because he wanted to kick my ass. I see.
I must say, it is really nice to go out with your family and constantly be attacked wherever you go. And now, physically.
I guess they hate the blue glow around my head, my personal nimbus signature.
Does being in the network really compensate for having a dead soul?
And thank you for teaching me to—from this time forward—make sure to refrain from ever turning my back on reptiles.
The best news is this: I kept cool, remained calm and anger found zero purchase in my garden.
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