The Corruption of Youth

I woke up today at 11:30 am. Blissfully half naked and slightly hungover. And while scrolling through Facebook, I noticed that most of my friends have children who were starting school today. I wondered how they spent the night before the first day of school for their kids. Yours truly spent it corrupting the youth.

I went back to a place where I use to host karaoke. A fabulously fun bar in my hometown which is the perfect little college town. Accompanied by a dear friend who embraces my level of debauchery, we proceed to have a few drinks before karaoke starts. And all he could mutter with a devious smile was “I know you, and I hate you so much right now!” Innocently I asked him what he meant by that comment. “You are about to Corrupt the Youth.” he said, and then listed about 5 different scenarios that ¬†would potentially occur that night. (I am happy to report however, that only 3 of the 5 actually occurred.)

You see, being of a certain amazing age, and having enjoyed my time playing in the Cougar Pond, I realized my new found charm. The Youth are a wonderful group of man boys who simply must, be taught. Well, “trained” would be the more accurate term. There may or may not be a video of me singing AC/DC’s “Shook Me All Night Long” to a young lad whilst sitting on his lap. Afterwards, he and his friends looked at me with a sort of carnal curiosity. And I could not help but smile.

“You’re welcome, youths.” My friend, no longer shocked by anything that I do, looked at me in awe and very little surprise. The point of this little tale, and my current hangover headache, is that I in no way will apologize for being the amazing chocolate goddess that I am. Some people have their thing, their charm, their own appeal and others will find that intimidating. Some will even be jealous of it. But from this point on, I know longer feel the need to explain it or apologize for it. No one was hurt, no one died, the world continued to spin on its axis and little kids went to school today.

So here’s what I want you to do today dear reader…the key to my boldness, my approach of life, my “corruption of the youth” last night is a simple one: do that thing that brings out the inner awesomeness in you. It’s usually something that scares the crap out of you. The scarier, the better. And when you wake up the next day, slightly embarrassed and/or hungover, laugh. And never ever apologize for it!

An Observation of Beach Mom

I live in Panama City, Florida. Home to some of the most gorgeous beaches and playground of regret for college Spring Breakers. With the beach so close to me, I make it a point to go to my sandy backyard at least once a week. But now with school out, my normal less busy beach is home to families on vacation. And with families on vacation, that means kids on the beach, which means an increase in “Beach Moms”.

If you are new to my blog let me state two very important facts. 1) I do NOT have kids. 2) I plan on NEVER having kids. That being said, I do like them (in small doses). And I am a huge fan of my god children, who happen to be pre-teens. I don’t know what it is, but pre-teens love me and I genuinely like them.

For me, a day at the beach involves various beach staples:

  • Chair
  • Umbrella
  • Tunes
  • Sunscreen
  • Snacks
  • Alcohol
  • and backup alcohol

I try to find a nice spot, near the boardwalk, close to the bathrooms and far far away from kids. I do this for the childs protection. “Beach Des” is a loud, fun, bodacious woman who embraces the relaxation that a day on the beach brings. This is the opposite of “Beach Mom”.

Beach-Bags-for-Moms-Families

I use to look at “Beach Mom” with her kids, 4 large beach bags, strollers, sand pail, snack packs, sunscreen, backup sunscreen and sippy cups with slight annoyance. “Great. Now I need to watch what I say, turn down my Ludacris on Pandora station and not do this shot of Patron while she is next to me.”

“Beach Mom” looked exhausted by the time she made it to the beach with kids, gear and husband in hand. She hasn’t even unpacked her summer arsenal and already, the beach has won. What was supposed to be a relaxing day out in the sun, has turned into day care with sand. The kids are screaming, there is never enough sunscreen, husband is attempting to set up the umbrella whilst wrangling a child and “Beach Mom” has just realized she forgot something that she desperately needs.

Once the entire tribe has unpacked and taken their spot (which is ALWAYS within ear shot of me) “Beach Mom” can finally “relax”. RELAX? Gurlll! I’m exhausted just watching that. And what is her reward? Photos on Instagram to show how much “fun” she had?

Sunday Funday on the beach! #vacation #panamacitybeach #family #blessed

No! NO! “Beach Mom”, you deserve so much more than that. Yesterday I saw one of these lovely creatures and I thought “I shouldn’t be annoyed at her. And I don’t feel sad for her. I want to help her.” I want to cheer her on when she has five minutes of consecutive silence. Or when her husband is far out in the water and she can check out the hot Lifeguard without judgement. I want to crank up the music when Nelly’s “Hot in Herreeee” makes her head nod and reminisce about her college years when she was sans kids. I want to dump that Yeti tumbler of Coke out of her hands a replace it with straight Vodka. And for the super stressed “Beach Mom”, I want to give her a shot of tequila…and maybe a Valium.

The “Beach Mom” and “Beach Dad” (I have seen this in action and it does exist, so shout out to you dudes!) realize that when they see me, they daydream of a beach day with quiet, sun, booze and snoring to the sound of the waves. They perhaps are slightly envious of my high level of relaxation and carefree fuckery. In the words of one of my idols, Lil Kim “If I were you/I would hate me, too”

So to “Beach Moms” everywhere I say to you, don’t forget that you are still a stone cold fox, in a swimsuit on the beach. The beach is meant to be fun and enjoyable and you freakin deserve that TOO! The memories that you make with your family will last a lifetime, so does regret. So go out there with clan in toe and a tumbler full of Margaritas and enjoy the beach. And I promise, if you make camp next to me and I can see that look in your eyes, that look of frustration and defeat, I got your back. This shot of Patron and Outkast song goes out to you!