Hot Babes. Everywhere. Oyster season baby. Oyster. Fucking. Season. Summer on the ‘Tuck. If you’re not here, you’re probably on the ferry. Poor.
Grab a quick nibble at the harbor. Babes behind the counter. Babes in your lobster roll. Spike that Don Julio with Nantucket Nectar. You have had sex before.
Sweater says “Martha’s Vineyard.” Global. Wraparound glasses. They’re polarized. Next summer we auction off Cornelius’s rare book collection to fuel our burgeoning heroin addiction. This summer we shoot up. Step on a needle. Ow ow ow.
Boys on the beach. Tanning on the beach. Freaking on the beach. Spikeball on the beach. Weirdos in the water. Crabs in the water. Losers in the water. Fat dads in the water. No dude I’m not going in the water. Sharks in the water. Fish piss in the water. I’m not a pussy for not going in the water. Rich dads on the beach. Dude I know how to swim. Young stepmoms on the beach. Why would I go in the water? Why would I wanna go in the water?
‘Tucket, baby.
