I was at the beach on Saturday and catching some rays and although my skin felt a bit hot I continued to lounge about, sometimes dragging my fingers gracefully through the sand, when all of the sudden I felt something hard and pointy stab my plump left thumb. I raised my head, careful to keep my face correctly positioned toward the sun and strained my right eye to the right in hopes of catching a glimpse of the assassin object. OMG it was a pellican beak, still somewhat attached to a small decomposed hunk of feathery flesh. I screamed gently and hurled my body 67 degrees to the left, landing in the middle of a group of Spanish tourists who were snacking on Tuna Tapas. My heart was skipping faster than an LP on 45. I wiped the sand from my dry lips and whispered loudly "hola". Pedro, the V-cut Catalan hunk, lifted my shaggy head gently from his hard torso and poured Sangria into my desperate mouth.

What trauma did you suffer this past weekend?