Originally Posted by Irishguy
OK... Another story...

Boho and I got married in Jamaica. (No I'm not sure if we are really married, but we get along like we are and we have the prettiest and most colorful marriage license you've ever seen.) In jamaica you have to be in country for like 3 days before they will marry you. So we spent a week or so at an all inclusive adults only beach resort in Negril. (Couples Negril. And yes you should go there.) We get there and get settled in and Boho, being who she is, immediately wants to go to the nude beach at the resort, which just happens to be right through this hedge that's just outside our ocean view room. Me... Not so much.

Well... after a day (and enough free flowing booze) I finally give in, because I love her and I want her to marry me in a couple of days. We put on our nice bath robes they provided for us and walk over to the nude beach. It's pretty cool actually and has it's own fully stocked Tiki Bar. I guess to keep from causing permanent psychological damage to some poor Jamaican, the bar is totally self service. So I'm kind of digging this at this point. I'm mixing drinks for us like some crazy, naked bar tender and we're having so much fun we meet these other couples from England and Georgia, I'm making drinks for all of us and we've just having a good time. So much so that we end up spending most of the rest of the Weddingmoon on the nude beach. Anyway... back to the jet ski... There's a jet ski in here somewhere...

So one of the nice things they provide are these floats. So Boho and I are feeling pretty good by this point and totally comfortable in our public nakedness. We go out into the ocean on these floats and are drifting off into tropical bliss with a good buzz and drinks in our hands. Out of the blue this Rastafarian lookin' dude come riding up to us on a jet ski. My first reaction is who is this dude and why is he bothering my fiance and I. Visibly annoyed in my naked, buzzed state, I try to wave him off and let him know in my limited pidgin English that we don't want to rent his jet ski. He looks at me rather incredulously shakes his head like, "No man. You've got me all wrong." and makes this universal sign language of pinching his fingers together, putting it to his lips like somebody hitting a dooby. We both instantly realize why he's out there. I just laugh at that point at the absurdity of the whole thing. Us being a few hundred feet off-shore, naked, half drunk and Bob Marley's cousin out there on a jet ski trying to sell us some dope.

Boho got kind of pissed about it after he moved on and I looked at her and said, "Hey don't get made he's probably got the greatest job in the world... Riding around on a jet ski in paradise selling weed to naked hotties like yourself."

So listen to Uncle Hershel and skip the jet ski, go to the nude beach and have a drink.

Where did the jet-ski dude think you guys were keeping your $?

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