Somewhere out there, in the shallows of the pacific swims (or whatever other verb describes the movements of a sea louse) a very content sea louse. A few hours earlier, the louse, no doubt hungry from doing whatever lice do, decided to feast on my sausage and spuds. After settling ‘pon my nether regions the louse must’ve gorged itself with the lice equivalent of a three course meal and free glass of house white.

Needless to say, but said anyway, I was not impressed; nor were the many beachgoers who had to bear witness to me rubbing my crotch for just a little too long.