I turn . . .wiggle . . . shuffle. . . I try to close my eyes and shut out the glare of the sun but nothing works. Of course, my bright white torso reflecting rays that would normally be lost in the bronze tone of a native doesn’t help my predicament.
But this is exactly the reason I am in this desperate quagmire. Hopefully after five days of tropical life, my entrance onto the beach will no longer be greeted by cries of “LOOK, A GREAT WHITE WHALE!” followed by well-meaning naturists attempting to save the environment by returning me to my natural habitat.
Once I have attained my tanning goals, my entrance will be greeted by cries of “LOOK, A GREAT BROWN WHALE!. . . wait a minute, I’ve never heard of a great brown whale! It must be a natural phenomenon! Push him in the ocean! We must save the ONE Great Brown Whale in existence!” At which point the same. . .
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