Blackmail is Such an Ugly Word

It has become common occurrence for Ty and I go to out to the lake or river at least once each weekend. Sometimes we're with Klint. Sometimes we're with Walt and Nancy. We always have a good time.

When we go to the lake, we're usually very active. Everyone (myself excluded) takes turns surfing and we cruise around the lake. But when we go to the river, we pretty much just sit in the water and hope nothing rubs up against our legs. Drinking beer makes me less paranoid about that happening. Those who know me well would consider it a miracle that I get in the murky waters of the Mighty Red at all. But like I said, we have a good time.


My best example of the good times is the Fourth of July. We had two boats filled with people and food. Chicken, pizza, sub sandwiches, ribs, fruit, chips, etc. The girls ended up having a dance party in the boat. The guys pretty much just laughed. And one person snapped pictures the entire time. Some are acceptable — and posted online — but the others have become a source for blackmail. There's nothing raunchy. But the fewer images of me and my friends dancing in our swimsuits, the better. I'm modest, remember!

I believe I have done enough pleading with my blackmailer to save myself for now. But for the time being, I live in fear — and my cover-up.