Several large goldfish and an electrical monobrow.

Hello everyone. I shall dispense with the usual apologise and such, and get right down to the nitty gritty, and dish the dirt you all want to know.

A starfish is not a toy.

While on holiday in Jamaica, my sisters made the acquaintance of an unpleasant American teen (I forget the name...probably something like Cliff). He had bleached blonde hair, wore a necklace - the 'surfer' type. After doing ridiculous somersaults on the floating trampoline, while I watched with scorn, he mentioned to my sisters that he had found a starfish, and would they like to see it. Naturally, they agreed.

So he led his little expedition of my mother and sisters out a bit into the water, while I followed discreetly, allowing only my eyes above the water. He found his hapless quinteped victim, and plucked him out of the water, crowing with triumph. My sisters oohed and aahed, but my horror grew the longer this pimply faced ruffian held the poor creature in the air. I could almost hear it calling in pain, as the water rapidly evaporated from it.

However, this theatre of horrors did not end there. He offered to leave it on the beach, so it would dry up and die, and they could have it as an ornament. I was stunned, but luckily my sisters refused, as it was 'not nice'. He then remembered he had seen some stingray over somewhere else, so dropped his captive back into the ocean and swam off with my sisters.

Realising the danger it was now in, I decided to relocate my spiny little friend to a place where it would not be disturbed. I picked it up and swam (holding it under the water all the while) to a place further out. I panicked when my foot touched something slimy which I could feel moving, so I dropped it there and fled.

I can only hope it survived, and continues to...do whatever starfish do, safe from marauding American teens.

More rants another time.