REPORT: Chicago Beaches Are Gross

Dateline–Chicago
 
For the average resident of the largest city located on the Great Lakes a beautiful summer day sees their phone flooded with text messages reading: BEACH? To the idiots sending out these messages I have this to say: The beach is gross. Now, one may believe that I am referring to the fact that Chicago beaches are literally filthy. There is not a summer that goes by where even the “nicest” beaches in Chicago are shut down do to the unsanitary conditions of the water. It is curious as to why anyone would want to bathe themselves in the waters that were christened by the industrial revolution. Chicago is a beacon for man’s footprint on the earth. It is hard not to imagine our predecessors in this fine city without their faces covered in soot wearing some kind of overalls after they just spent twelve hours forging something in a dark poorly lit space with safety goggles on. But yet, I digress. These seem like reasonable arguments for why the beach is gross, but I am speaking of a much darker, more sinister reality.
 
If you have ever been to the beach in Chicago, you would know that it looks like a Midwest version of New Jersey. Most of the guys there look like the guy you will later see a McGee’s joke dancing in a v-neck graphic tee. Perhaps most unsettling for me is the fact that these cock knockers are always in their douchiest form. Scantily clad chicks at the beach have no shot at enjoying the sun since these dildos are constantly hitting on them like a drunk bitch at some bar in Lincoln Park. It’s not fair to hit on a girl that is not wearing anything but a more water friendly version of her underwear. A real gentleman tries to pick up a chick when she is in her pajamas. Maybe she has some real nice cans under that sweatshirt. Maybe she has an ass that would look swell in some volleyball shorts. She could also have gross boobs with weird nipples and an ass equally as flat as a dark ages nave thought the earth to be. Leave it up to serendipity.
 
In summation, the beach is meant to be a place where you sip a fruity cocktail and stare out into vast deep crystal blue. It shouldn’t be a place where dickheads ride their crotch rockets shirtless in order to cruise tail they will later try to meet up with at Duffy’s and joke dance their way into their hearts over a couple of captain and cokes. Plus, chicks get sand in their vaginas at the beach. All the members of the politburo know that I enjoy performing cunnilingus as the center piece of my sexual repertoire, but if there is anything worse than a mouthful of sand, it is a mouthful of sand that was just chilling inside some skank’s vagina. But again I digress. Perhaps I hate the beach so much because I don’t want to go anywhere I have to shave my back and shoulders to fit in. I guess my appearance is more suited for a dim bar where I can find the comfort of whiskey and cheap domestic beer.

scott