Summer is right around the corner. Figuratively of course. It’s not like you could walk around the corner of where you are and all of a sudden things will be sunny, scorching, and filled with murders. Most murders take place during the summer. Yet another reason to hate it. Summer is easily my least favorite season of the year. As a person who dresses like an overweight goth, it’s tough to survive. Whether I like it or not, summer will be here. I’ll have to come up with a plan to survive and actually get something productive done. These are my summer plans.
Originally I had decided I would spend this summer in Australia. Did you know their seasons are the opposite of the rest of the world? I’m not sure how much of that is true and how much came from an episode of The Simpsons. I seem to be getting a lot of knowledge from that television show lately. My trip to Australia was cancelled when I realized I’d have to leave my apartment to get there. Ugh! No thank you. Australia is one of those countries that seems fantastic, in theory. I know I wouldn’t fit in whatsoever. Everyone there is tall, slender, and tan. They’re like pretzel rods. I’m more like an undersized marshmallow. If I ever enter Australia the Prime Minister will shove a stick up my ass and roast me over an open fire.
(This isn’t actually me naked, but you get the idea. I wish I had the posture of a marshmallow)
People tend to go “down to the shore” for summer here in New Jersey. Not me. Remember that thing I said about looking like a marshmallow? Doesn’t go well at the beach. I already went there in mid-May and last week so I’m about good for the rest of eternity. My grandma used to own a beach house where my family could flee to during the summer months on the weekends. I don’t remember much about this. Honestly I remember going twice ever. The first time I ever swore was at the beach house. I was playing with my action figures and the green guy told Alf that he was a son of a bitch. My dad walked in and asked me what I said. I blamed it on Alf. Probably not the best thing to do. Alf received a good beating with the belt. He also had to go to bed without any dessert which was really tough for him because we were having cats.
(This picture is so cruel. They should have at least killed the cat first. He’s going to be so embarrassed)
The worst thing about this summer is I will be alone. No girlfriend. No nothing. That is why I plan on having a cool Grease like summer romance. I doubt my planning will go any further than actually planning. Kind of like a bomb threat in a way. Or when terrorists sit around at their kid’s birthday parties throwing out different historic landmarks to drive boats into or whatever strange attack tactic they’ll move onto next. I think I’ll just go up to every cute girl I see, poke her in the chest, and ask if she wants to make whoopee. If she doesn’t know what I mean by that then I’ll know she’s not mature enough for me. Only old people know what whoopee means. And I’m not about to go having an affair with some dumb kid.
(No. Not you)
Last summer was not all too bad. I don’t remember much about June at all. That must mean I enjoyed myself. July all I remember was being really sweaty. That was also the last time I called out of work sick. I spent my day off watching True Blood and eating snacks in my boxers. Suddenly I knew what it was like to be a fat girl in college. No straight guy should sit around watching True Blood. Vampires are gayer than cats and cats are very gay. August too was a big blur. I know I restarted with this here blog that month, but I’m not sure what else I was doing. I remember in the middle of the month my neighbors above me left their air conditioner on for so long it started to drip down my wall. I was sure someone had been killed in their apartment and the air was left on to cover up the smell. To my displeasure, they’re walking around up there right now.
(Her gap tooth almost makes it look like she’s constantly got fangs out)
Of course like everyone, my summer involves a lot of “getting in shape.” I think I’ve been trying to get in shape for 22 years now. What am I doing wrong? Are my pink dumbbells not really 5 pounds? And when I say in shape I don’t mean presentable to the public. That’s easy. I want to be in the kind of shape the people we know who never workout and are gorgeous are in. I hate those people. They’re like people on TV who only ever lightly walk on a treadmill for their workouts. I’d probably need to take steroids or be meaner to women to ever be the Greek Adonis I strive to be. Instead this summer I’ll make it my goal to just not get fatter or weaker. I think it’s time to purchase a pair of 7.5 pound dumbbells. I think those are colored purple.
(No way a guy who does mostly underwater cardio could pack on this much muscle. He needs resistance training. Something impossible to obtain whilst underwater. The Greek’s are highly inaccurate)
What are your plans for this summer? Really, I don’t have much planned at all. Not because I’m one of those people who “takes life as it comes” or “lives in the moment” or “hopes everyone dies.” I’m just not someone who appreciates bees, mosquitoes, or body odor. I hate you summer. I’m going to burn some fossil fuels every day while you’re around hoping to usher in a new ice age.