I am laying on a beach in Montego Bay, Jamaica. To my left, a heavyset man on his fluffy white bath towel sips gingerly from his pina colada as his pasty white man-boobs develop tell-tale red splotches. Past him on his horizon of a belly, countless other American folk bake in the sun, either sporting extremely large straw hats or torsos idiotically slathered in tanning oils, but all similarly sprawled out on bath towels that are blinding white, riddled with offensive quotations, or a neon color bright enough to assault the eyes. Conversation in English surrounds me, the American accent tinkles
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