Poo-ranha nightmares

You know how whales drift off and get stuck on land left to flap on the sand until humans push them back into the sea – but until then the whales  have a high demand to get splashed upon with water? Last weeks steamy summerweather gave me an urge about the same level as whales,  to have a swim in water. My boyfriend and I decided to go to the local swimming pool, which ended up being as repulsive as when I watched Mysterious Skin by myself without knowing what Joseph Gordon Lewitt was gonna get himself in to.

I was childishly excited for our long awaited dip. Images of those commercials where attractive people drink refreshing juice to then fall down with a splash into water scattered in my head as I scanned the big pool like a younger, female version of David Hasselhoff in rescue mode. As we walked around my unlucky ways kicked in and I found myself stepping out of a pile of puke. Usually when I’m in a situation where there is a slight chance for me to step in puke, there would be loads of jägerbombs and music surrounding me, and I would be wearing shoes. In this case the sense of puke control was absent. I simply hadnt seen it coming. To get rid of the sticky gooey sensation under my foot, I turned to the great method of clever slugs. I heavily based my food upon the watery floor and carried on walking leaving a sticky trail, until it was all washed away. Sorted.

We finally get in the water and swam around for about half an hour until my boyfriend suddenly asks “what is that?!” while pointing at the water just in front of my face. With the awareness of him possibly tricking me, I slowly look down to find myself googleling at a little nugget of poop. If you take a second to look down, your bellybutton would be the same distance away from your face as the poop was to mine. I quickly move to one side like a confused salmon loosing its sense of direction to find another two nuggets of poop surrounding us in a viscious floating matter. Trying to escape without  accidently swallowing them we swam to a non-poop area, where there’s no chance of being stabbed by shit. Lurking over the swimming pool we gasped at people swimming and diving towards all these nuggets floating around with their own personal “dum dum…. dum dum….” Shark soundtrack. It was horrifying. Based on the days events I felt as unlucky as a seastar. They lie at the bottom of the sea and the only hole they have works as both mouth and anal entrance. What a silly day.


That sneaky Peter Pan

Peter Pan is a tricky fellow.  I actually think he deserves a spot in the superhero catagory for his brilliant forever-child feature, and in the imaginary who’s-power-would-you-have (yes, I still play that) I would definitely steal and seal Peter Pan’s, and never grow up. Just like Peter Pan, my bravery level had an invisible limit line.

I rememember those days when the feeling of a dignified airy blow between toes being something frowned upon. Lots of things have changed since those days. Everyone walks around in flip flops without finding the seperation of toes feeling mysteriously odd. (you have probably aready picked up on that this is not about flip flops. Sneaky mindtricks that came with my brainset) We simply look at things differently in the process of growing up. This incredible notion is not just based upon theories such as backing one out in your diper as a baby without feeling guilty, or getting tongue punched as a teenager without giving a hu-ha about romance. I would just throw myself into things like a dont-give-a-shit-angry bird, just for the sake of it being the first time of doing it. Now, I’m more like a superhero on a Sunday, who discovered the great sensation of cuddleling.

When I think back, I did a lot of crazy things, and the development of the ideas emerged from curiosity and the fact that my dad carries the Homer Simpson syndrome; an urge to challenge your kids to do irrisponsible things.  My brother, sister and I, were challenged to run through the graveyard at midnight cause “we ain’t afraid of no ghost”. I got challenged to eat a spoon chocolate powder which is as horrible as the famously known cinnomon challenge, that makes you mouth feel like Sahara without the eventful view of camels. Holy cow, lots of reckless things went down, and I’m glad it did. Cause when the time for me to wear flip flops came – I was prepared to slide that rubber string between my toes. Just like Peter Pan would never think twice about putting on flip flops.