Some girls can’t wait to slather on their Hawaiian Tropic SPF 0, touch up their brazilians, tie on their g-string bikinis and hit the beach. Me, not so much. Just like a landlord, I require at least 30 days notice. There’s no way I could go to the beach without some major body and wardrobe prep. I have to spray tan, diet, shave, wax, get laser hair removal – and that’s just for my chin. I end up going to the beach in a huge hat, and a tunic (maybe we should call it what it really is -- a mu-mu) the size and coloring of termite fumigation tent. So imagine how thrilled I was when I discovered some great excuses to avoid the beach.

Marine Scientists have found giant blobs of sea mucus in our costal waters. No, I didn’t see this on the Sy-Fy channel. This is real and disgusting, just like that curmudgeonly Mr. Mucus cartoon glob from the Mucinex commercials. (As a sidebar, Mr. Mucus recently got married which proves I still have a chance of finding a mate.) The sea has massive clumps of living and dead organic matter that’s collected into noxious, gooey masses. These blobs are teeming with infectious viruses and bacteria, including the ever-popular E. coli virus. Salt water taffy anyone? Try our newest mouth-watering flavor, strawberry influenza.

I can hear you saying, “You can still go to the beach you dumbass, just stay out of the cootie infested water.” But wait, that’s where you’d be wrong. (And by the by way, I don’t appreciate you using that tone with me.) A picnic in the sand is no picnic according to the American Journal of Epidemiology. Sand at many U.S. beaches contains toxic bacteria and potentially unhealthy levels of fecal material. Beach combers beware, there’s poop in them thar sand dunes.

Frankly, I’ve never liked the beach, however, I love the idea of the beach. And that’s why God made burger restaurants like Islands so we never have to actually go to the shore. I’m grateful I have an excuse to avoid the beach, even though some die hard beach bunnies will say I’m paranoid, alarmist, and ridiculous. If paranoid means I don’t want mucus or caca on my Fit Flops, color me paranoid. The closest I’m getting to the beach is a tub filled with bath salts.

That’s why I’m grateful I have an excuse to avoid the beach.