I spent some time last summer at Revere Beach, just north of Boston, and tiny bit west of 1985. Revere Beach is tied for the shadiest beach on the planet with whatever beach the douchebags from Jersey Shore happen to be on at any given moment. There was so much hairspray in the air you could actually see the ozone crying. I witnessed a hermit crab that had outgrown his shell only to take subsidized housing in a used syringe. He had an almost finished bottle of red wine in one claw with the other claw free to pinch unsuspecting beachgoers in the booty. He was drunk and making lewd comments to passing ladies such as “you ever been with a crab before, baby cakes?”, and “hey hotpants, this will be the first time you’ve gotten crabs that didn’t make you go to the free clinic for prescription ointment.”, and “hey foxy mama, I’ve got 6 claws that can make you feel good all over, and refill your drink at the same time.”