"Every October, hundreds of witches appear on bodies of water across the United States, floating on lakes and bays, ponds and harbors."
The true nature of stand-up paddleboarders is finally crystal clear. When Laird Hamilton introduced the concept to the masses, some decade-plus ago, some considered a regal. There he stood like Poseidon on the sea. Dipping his stick into the waters. Others thought they might like to try. Imagining themselves to be like him.
Then stand-up paddleboarders began appearing in lineups. Their pilots, gangly and awkward, caught waves they had no business catching. They would stand wide, furiously stroking the sea only to stand wider, gracelessly steering their mid-sized ocean vessels. Surfers in their way feared for their very lives. The whole thing entirely messy.
Then a man from Oklahoma with a magical wetsuit of armor appeared. Erik Logan stormed onto our scene, paddle in hand, as the president of the newly formed WSL Studios. He was open and flamboyant about being a stand-up paddleboarder, littering his social media feeds with pictures and videos of his barbarian days.
A SUP life.
Logan was promoted to CEO of the aforementioned WSL though continued to be loud and proud about his affinity for the Great Ugly. His fall from grace not even dinging his dong as the first sighting of him, post-firing, was stroking through the Manhattan Beach pier.
Are SUPs Satanic?
While considered dangerous and unfortunate for much of the past five years, there are new questions as if to stand-up paddleboarding is actually evil. The New York Times, bastion of modern liberalism, recently celebrated godless SUPers in an eerie think piece titled Something Wicked Paddles This Way.
At first, the silhouette looked familiar — a person in a pointed hat with a long robe holding a broom-shaped object. But the setting felt out of place.
What would a witch be doing on water, of all places, let alone with an entire coven?
Every October, hundreds of witches appear on bodies of water across the United States, floating on lakes and bays, ponds and harbors. Instead of brooms, they glide on stand-up paddle boards. And while these events are known as witch paddles and number in the dozens, the participants are not on the water to menace. Some of the witches are paddling for charities, and some are just having fun.
Having fun terrifying children which, in most countries, is considered abuse.
Might the time be ripe for us to fund a Sound of Freedom except anti-SUP instead of anti-baby trafficking?
I think yes.