Asshat of the Day: Autumn Beach Bliss-tered
Published: October 30, 2025
#AsshatOfTheDay #BeachZombies #SocialMediaFails #BluntCloudsAndBluetooth #ADHDPitbulls #LocalsOnlyEnergy #ObservationalHumor
When your relaxing beach day gets hijacked by content creators, pitbull zoomies, and secondhand skunk clouds.
It’s October. The tourists are finally gone. No more inflatable unicorns. No more screaming about sunscreen. No more dad-bods in neon tank tops trying to parallel park.
The beach is calm. Locals are reclaiming their natural habitat — towels spaced out, dogs chasing sand ghosts, people reading books that don’t require ring lights.
And then…
They arrive. Dragging tripods, filters, and more main character energy than the sun can handle. Social. Media. Zombies.
A woman in a flowy, linen cult robe — sorry, “maxi dress” — is doing a dramatic slow-motion spin next to the tide. She’s barefoot but clearly wearing a full face of stage makeup. Her boyfriend — let’s assume unpaid intern — is filming her with the seriousness of a wildlife documentarian. She shrieks, “NOOOO the wave wasn’t BIG ENOUGH,” and resets for take seven. Nature stares back in silent judgment.
Not to be outdone, a shirtless crypto bro is pacing in the shallows with a wireless mic, podcasting into the void:
“You gotta manifest wave frequency into your mindset if you wanna rise like the tide.”
You hope Poseidon himself will snatch the mic and drag him to Atlantis.
Then, the soundtrack kicks in: TikToks. On. Speaker. Because nothing says “peaceful coastal recharge” like 90 seconds of poorly lit prank content and a laugh track made entirely of trauma.
A couple is nearby, performing a “spontaneous romantic splash moment.” She fake-giggles. He fake-lifts her. He slips. She screeches. They argue about camera angles while you consider walking into the sea like a Victorian widow.
Just when you think the cringe parade might be winding down… you smell it.
Not the ocean breeze. Not the salt air. Nope. Blunt. Thick. Skunky. Instantly hostile to the senses.
You turn, already regretting it.
There he is — urban beach disruptor with dreds, a blunt, and a Bluetooth speaker. But that’s not all. He’s also holding his phone up, vlogging the entire scene like he’s filming a beach day highlight reel for his 200 followers.
“Aye, he wildin’ right now — look at my boy go!” he laughs into the mic, camera trained on his unleashed pitbull tearing across the sand like it’s qualifying for the Daytona 500.
The dog? Eyes wide. Tongue flapping. Running like it just got paroled from the apartment. It launches across the sand, skidding through towels, kicking granules into eyes, mouths, and sandwiches. It charges the shoreline like it owes the tide money, splashing strangers and spraying water like a wet grenade.
Then it circles back — wet paws, sandy belly, joyful chaos — and repeats the loop, faster and with more enthusiasm. An emotional support blender powered by chaos and pitbull joy.
The guy? Still narrating. Still puffing clouds like a sea witch. Still vibing like he’s bringing culture to the coastline, completely unaware that his dog is turning the beach into a sandblasted obstacle course behind him.
Your lungs are full of secondhand skunk. Your towel is wet. You’ve been exfoliated against your will. You came to heal — now you need to recover from this recovery attempt.
Public Service Announcement
The beach isn’t your stage, your studio, or your blunt lounge. If your “me time” invades everyone else’s peace, you’re the problem. Pack up your ring light, leash your dog, and let the locals vibe in peace. We’ve earned it.
🖼️ Firefly Image Prompt
"Sunset beach scene with dramatic influencer in flowy dress filming by the tide, shirtless man podcasting near waves, dreadlocked man vlogging with phone while vaping a blunt, unleashed pitbull running in circles, chaotic sand kicking, annoyed locals watching."
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