While we realize we've been bitching about the lack of snow, now that it's here we're pining for summer. As we sat down to post- the grey skies glowing through the coffee shop window, offsetting our sallow skin in a really lovely shade of Forgotten Salisbury Steak- we had no blogging inspiration. And then just like that time the Ouiji board totally moved on its own (seriously, it did you guys) our screen was glowing with vintage shots from Ocean City. Flipping through these images made us nostalgic, warmed our weary winter souls, and helped us forget about the mouth breathing jerk sitting next to us who actually refused to share the only nearby outlet and is offending us even more with his shockingly audible eating habits.
Ocean City may not be Saint-Tropez, but its 142 streets of junk food, receding beaches, Scopes girls and hungover life guards sound fabulous right now. What could be better than reading a sun block-greased book, clandestinely sipping on a warm sandy beer and digging your toes into the cigarette butt-dotted beach?
Fuck off, Winter and the guy sitting next to us.
(All images courtesy of The Baltimore Sun)