How many head pounds per second does it take to orchestrate a proper post Dionysian beach party symphony?
Well, I'd count…, but I'm afraid the neural activity required would hurt too much.
The rain danced with us this weekend in the miniature-wave coveted cove.
Now, I don't know if you've ever seen a performance of the Rain dancing before, but I can tell you it's spectacular!
It (the Rain) moved with such fluidity and rhythmic grace that even the mosquitos in the audience started biting ankles to the beat. And a lost crab was so moved and jolted by the Rain's exquisite rendition of Salt n Pepa's “Shake your thang”, that he lost all equilibrium and soon found himself upside down, pinchers flailing above the sand. Horny hound dogs with horrendous pick-up lines froze in humility and became sleazy salt statues when the Rain danced its final words of the spell.
The Rain's tap dance was an ego essence-consuming piece that devoured me like a redwood does when you realize you're a part of the forest.
And, for the grand finale, the Rain came and did hip-hop improv break dancing inside my tent.
This soaking number, needless to say, was not followed by any “encore” shouts from the crowd.