To me going into the ocean is like saying “Whatevs…” to life. It’s a deep, wet, hell on Earth that for whatever reason we keep dipping our toes into. There have been a number of shark attacks and sightings on beaches and people are acting shocked. There’s that saying “You mess with the bull you get the horns.” Well, if you go into the ocean you will get eaten by something. Look at this picture that has been floating around since last week where this kayaker was being followed by a shark in Cape Cod.
“I looked behind me and that's when I saw the shark, it was pretty much right there, I got a glimpse of it. It was a good size and it had a fin sticking out, so I just turned and paddled” Szulc said in between thanking a Jesus he didn’t believe in minutes before and simultaneously shitting and vomiting. That’s what I’m guessing happened. Sharks are something we should be talking about in the past tense. “Hey, remember those giant monsters with hundreds of teeth and cold dead eyes that use to be on the planet? No, not Gwyneth Paltrow!”
|But exactly like her.|
Now these things are killing folks in Australia, a place that is known for having light breezes that can kill. Some surfer was bitten in half. I’ll say it again so you don’t have to reread it. In. Half. This isn’t that nonsense people say like “Oh, sharks don’t like the taste of people. They just take a little nibble, hate it, and swim away.” Bullshit. You know what I hate? Spinach. So what wont do is eat almost an entire bowl of it and go “Oh, this is disgusting!” and push it away. When did we become apologists for evil shit? Sharks are the Ike Turner of the sea. That’s right, I said it.
|Put some stank on it!|
The surfers wife said the normal thing of how he died doing what he loved and all that. Nope. Unless you count being bitten in two and devoured by a monster while surfing as something he loved to do, I’ll go out on a limb and say he died in the exact opposite of what he loved doing. Its like if I died fucking. I love fucking but do I wanna die while doing it? No! I wanna die doing shit I never do. Jumping from a five story building while saving orphans with a rocket strapped to my back because I do that only slightly more often than I have sex. Fuck nature.
Click here to read past Dante vs. Nature.