My shoulder is suffering from moderate dysfunction at present. This means I was something of a voyeur on a trip to Vancouver Island this past weekend.
Tess, Lea, and Eric have their seal disguises on and are ready to tease the sharks.
While I could not surf, I was able to reflect on academic postulations and hypothesize liberally. And bury Olga in the sand.
Olga is difficult to find. Use your mind to draw a line from each of my pointed fingers out away from my body. At the location where those mind-lines intersect, Olga lies in wait.
A pursuit of gnar led us to a danger log of doom. Lea was unphased by the pool of phytoplankton lying in wait to devour her.
Nerves of steel.
Then we rode on a boat.
Sunset glam shot.
Contrary to appearances, this was an incredibly happy moment. I was experiencing joy.
It was very windy so we decided to unwind with some yoga.
Eat Logical Sentences 
I like Tess’s surfboard. And your shorts, Kaan.
…in no particular order.
Yeah, she’s a beaut!
zooplankton, surely?
phyto. I’m pretty sure. The malevolent florabeasts seemed poised to osmotically absorb bodily minerals with reckless abandon. We could see algae blooms where hapless travelers had, no doubt, recently been reclaimed.
Yes, I know: your name is not Shirley, to be Frank. Yes, I know: my name is not…