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When Blonde and Brunette were on vacation in Indonesia we spent the last five days at a very secluded private island resort. We had our own gated villa with its own private splash pool. Blonde and Brunette tend to be scornful of so-called splash pools as they are too frequently really slime pools and not suitable for Blonde’s aquatic antics or Brunette’s serious lap swimming. (OMG Note to self: must do a post called “lap swimming” but it won’t be about a pool.)
However, we were delighted to discover that this pool allowed for modest swimming for small people. Those qualifiers are to ensure that, should he read this post, Michael Phelps won’t head off to this resort, do one Butterfly stroke and end up splatted on the concrete at the end of the pool. Our Olympians are national treasures, especially the ones who end up all over the internet smoking weed through glass bongs. That young man has amazing and versatile lungs that should not be splatted in Indonesia as the result of a blog post lacking needed specificity.
Whoops, digression. OK – back to the topic.
The photos with this post show the extremely revealing attire Brunette was wearing on the island as she headed to the gate at our villa. You can almost see her ankles and part of one hand. She was wearing the edgy new Rash Guard Burquini, topped off with a hat that suggested she was still looking for Dr. Livingston. She is not one for revealing garb. Her idea of a wardrobe malfunction was the time she vomited in her crotch in Tuscany not a nipple being flipped to a an unsuspecting global village.
However, there’s a little blonde in this brunette (and a lot of brunette in the blonde but we won’t discuss that here). Brunette, knowing her winsomely snoring sister can sleep for very extended periods of time, got up each morning and took a skinny dip in our private pool. Toward the end of the stay Brunette confessed that she had been indulging in this licentious behavior.
Back home in the U S of A Blonde told her friend, Jim, who had both recommended the resort and knew Brunette, about Brunette’s adventures in au naturele aquatic activity. Jim promptly sent an email to Brunette saying that he saw the picture of her swimming in the nude when he looked at the resort on Google Earth. Blonde and Jim thought this was fabulous laff-fest material.
When a couple of days had gone by and Brunette had not responded to the email from Jim or mentioned it to her sister, Blonde inquired as to why Brunette had not responded.
Brunette said’ “Oh I was sick about that and didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t sleep because I was worrying about it all night”. She was amazed that, with all of the foliage on the island, she would be revealed and identifiable. There goes that substitute teaching gig in rural Pennsylvania!
She was serious.
Jim wasn’t.