The Jugs at Jolly Harbor

If you're ever in Antigua, go to the beach at Jolly Harbor (absolutely beautiful). And if you were there on the afternoon of September 20, 2006, you saw my wife's titties. It happened like this:

After performing aerials the likes no one has ever seen...on a wave runner...through jelly fish infested waters (I shit you not!), my wife and I headed back to the beach. I went for a swim and my wife went shell hunting. About 10 minutes after I got in the water, the waves started to increase in size and frequency, crashing with quite a bit of force against the shell cover beach. My wife, too engrossed in the hunt, failed to see a wave that had been hunting her Midwest pastiness. It crashed into her legs, buckled her knees, and took her down to the ground. She got up after being hit by two subsequent waves and calming herself from laughing.

Now, you'd think my wife would have learned her lesson from the first crippling blow...but that's not my wife. After a few minutes a mammoth wave, one of the biggest of the day, came rouring past me, clearly with its sights on my unsuspecting wife. I gave a quick shout of warning...but it was too late. She turned and faced the wave head on, ready for battle. The wave hit my wife with all its might, but she dug her feet in the sand and held her ground...except...she forgot to hold her top and the wave ripped it down, flashing her boobies to everyone on the beach, including a 12-year-old kid (who at that moment had the best family vacation ever). Congradulations sweetheart--you've made it into an adolescent boys spank bank.