poop

Brandy & I stealthy entered the Marriott to lounge on their section of A-Bay. We had a great time reclining alongside sunburnt tourists and pretending to be rich! The hotel and beach were beautiful, but also quite disgusting. I'm not just saying that because everything, including our presence, seemed so artificial and rehearsed. You see, on the way back to the car, as we climbed the carpeted staircase that leads to the glorious lobby, the bellhops warned us of The Shit. Each of the last few steps boasted a droplet of doodoo, and then on the landing, BAM! A pile of crap. The irony sent us giggling. Who would do such a thing? A subversive anticapitalist? A jealous local like myself? A spoiled tourist whose money allows him to relieve himself wherever suits him? A baby with ample ammunition? Whoever you are, I applaud you for having the balls to poop on the plush carpet of a five-star hotel. Oh, I'm kidding. LMAO!!


a fancy mirror at the Marriott


Queen K