Let me paint you a picture of what this photo could have been. You and your family take an exciting trip to Oregon to see the ever so famous ‘Canon Beach’. As the sun sets you sit there taking in the view thinking about how life isn’t so bad and you might not send your son to military school anymore. *sniff* is that kerosene? *sniff* You turn around to see a blonde haired young man, who can only be described as deviously handsome, and his friends pouring lighter fluid all over a stick. One of the young idiots pulls out a lighter and flicks it on to attempt to light the janky torch as your wife watches with infatuation. *woof* the torch lights … as well as the blondes pants. The flame casts light on to the young man revealing that he’s a 7.5 at best - your wife turns away in disinterest. He flails and rolls around in the water as his friends run in circles like cartoon characters not knowing what to do. Your toddler starts crying at the sight. You’re a man of action so you scoop your kids and grab your wife’s hand to rescue them from the monstrosity that has unfolded at the 47th most visited tourist destination in America. You run to the nearest seafood restaurant like Godzilla just emerged from the ocean behind you. They sit you at the second last open table. *sigh* the family is calm now. You wish they gave you the booth but this will do. Your kids sip Shirley temples and your wife smiles at you like she loves you more than her assistant Kyle for the first time in years. Life is good. It’s actually good. The waitress comes to sit some people at the booth you wanted. It’s the damn blonde kid and his friends. Soaking wet, covered in sand, smelling like burnt khakis. How the f*** did they let him in here? You start to shake as you see them all order the seafood hotpot your wife talked you out of ordering. “Honey are you okay?” You can’t even respond as your mouth is hanging open watching a singed group of 25 years old big dog your bill. Blondie blissfully bites in to fresh bread as his friend runs to the bathroom to throw up from what can only be emotional trauma (or norovirus). You shoulda just gone to Disney like Dan from HR said