Down the Shore

It was Mom who pointed out that this is the 20th summer we've been coming to Ocean City, Maryland. I still haven't figured out a way to live here full-time without taking a tourist-related job. While walking along the surf, a seagull kept hanging out near me but eyeing me suspiciously because he was eating something. It turned out to be a cherry. The seagull would hop along for a few steps, pick at the cherry, and then eyeball me. Bird, please: I do not want your second-hand cherry, you filthy beach pigeon. Some might say that my loathing of seagulls stems from an incident when I was four, where one felt that the back of my neck was the ideal place to relieve itself in mid-flight. Actually, my loathing of pigeons is an innate, lifelong constant-- sure as the sky is blue, grass is green, and the Star Wars prequels left a lot of to be desired.
Oh God, the Culturelle Probiotics commercial might be the most disgusting thing I've seen on TV since a Michael Jackson documentary. Can people just shut up about probiotics already? Nothing related to the digestive system needs that much coverage (commercials, articles, ads, "health and beauty" listicles in Redbook) devoted to it. Good lord. The only thing worse might be those awful cleanses.