They love their chromed-out motorized homes and lawn chairs, atrocious jelly-sandals and larger than their faces sunglasses, brightly colored political fanny packs and blues rock music. They look like slow-melting seals and wrinkled, hairless tigers, their droopy nipples and disgusting sausage links look like weird blood-swollen baby arms. Flapping pancakes and a dark stomach, a regal man in an open bathrobe fumigating the Collie next to him with Old Spice cologne, a plump granny looking at her hot pink phone, the thatch of silver and white fur would make Einstein blush, hungry tongues, they're just sad old people who want to have orgies, that's all.