Life’s a Beach

Dear Old Phart,

I love my wife but she has this thing about beach vendors. Recently we went on a trip to Mexico and before she had taken six steps onto the beach she was surrounded by vendors.

She spoke to them all, bought from almost all of them and promised the rest she would be back. She did “bargain” with them but I bet the final price was not a bargain and the “real” silver jewelry was anything but.

What should I do? I think she’s a beach shopaholic!

Save My Retirement

Dear Save My Retirement,

You can’t fool me. This is not a letter from a random reader. This is from my Appalachian-born, Vietnam vet-bred, mojo-loco brother-in-law who is trying to get me in trouble with my wife!

Yes my brother-in-law Geno is a walking contradiction. He is one of the most talented, conflicted persons of character I have ever known. But Geno you’re not going to use your special ops mind techniques to force me into saying anything negative about my beach shopaholic wife….oops she’s not a beach shopaholic…she’s a wonderful caring careful shopper…who…stop it Geno…I am not going to talk smack about how much my wife spent buying beach jewelry and then forgetting all of it in the hotel when she packed…damn  you Gene!

Stop messing with me. Go back to watching “Finding Bigfoot” on the Animal Channel.

Geno…Ouch, stop twisting my nipples! What’s wrong with you? Wait what, that’s not you? Then who is it?

Oh oh….

Got to go.

Old Phart

3 thoughts on “Life’s a Beach

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