Whale Shark Hunting, or Why Am I So Alone

Today, L-Nasty's heart shattered into a million little pieces. These are not the kind of pieces you can pick up and reassemble. Nay, these pieces have ended up all over the place, like under the couch, and that stupid dresser that has the half-eaten sandwich stuck under it, and it makes you so angry, because, like, shit, it's moldy and it smells weird and nobody wants to visit you anymore because of the gross smelling sandwich under your dresser, and then even your cat leaves you (!!!), and then your therapist because one day you just ask her to hold you for the duration of your session, and you have NO ONE. NO ONE. That was the kind of shattering that happened to L-Nasty's heart.

Abandoned by R-Nasty, L-Nasty decided to take a restful and recuperative trip down to the Caribbean. This trip was completely by choice, and not at first strongly encouraged, then ordered by her therapist, and then she was not dragged away from R-Nasty's door by the local police. Whatever. Anyways, she took this trip down to the Bahamas of her own volition. So she decided she could win R-Nasty's love and affection back by finding a whale shark, then putting a leash on it and taking it home to R-Nasty, who would give her great big hug and make her some oatmeal cookies that smelled like a mother's love or something stupid like that. So one evening, she left the house under the pretense of taking a relaxing sunset beach walk, whilst in fact setting out on a journey of a lifetime. She walked for miles, becoming more and more addled and confused. Where was this godforsaken whale shark?

Embarrassing.

Was this my whale shark?

No, this was not my whale shark.

Was this my whale shark?

No, this was not my whale shark. I think it's a branch, maybe.

As she wandered, she made several friends. One was a small land crab, who she tried to cradle, before it bit her hand and ran off. She also become closely acquainted with an elderly couple from Wyoming (the equality state!) that asked her if she could direct them to the beach club. When she responded by hugging them desperately, they appeared concerned and tottered off.

Then! As she stood adjusting her hair for maximum blowability for selfie purposes, she saw it!

If you were wondering, our hair tip is that we don't really shower. Tell us how you feel about a possible beauty column.

The mythical whale shark! I swear she saw it! It looked a little something like this:

If you squint, like a lot, we're pretty sure you can see it in the photo of L-Nasty. Right beyond her ring finger. See it? Yeah, we thought so.

She immediately starting touching up her makeup so she could take a really great selfie with the whale shark so maybe then R-Nasty would think she was pretty AND love her. One can only dream. As she was applying my mascara, she accidentally stabbed herself in the eye. When the tears and blood finally stopped, Miguel, her whale shark and ticket to R-Nasty's heart, was gone.

Photos will never begin to express the agony we felt inside. Except maybe this one. It feels extremely accurate.

Emotionally Destitute: A Self-Portrait by L-Nasty

She fell to the sand and beat her fists against the unsatisfyingly yielding ground. She punched a rock. It hurt, like a LOT. She cursed the heavens. But we have returned, with more rage and determination than ever. We will find you, whale shark. We will find you, and THEN WE WILL TREAT YOU SO NICELY, BUT NOT BECAUSE YOU LIKE IT. BECAUSE WE LIKE IT.