Summer Sucks

I lied to y’all.

I hate summer. I know I told you weeks ago that summer in Norman is awesome, what with the hipless 20-year-olds in ass-hugging cotton shorts and colored bikini tops under sheer wife beaters strutting around Target on a weekday mid-afternoon. But the shitiness of summer trumps the hot ass.

Summer didn’t always suck. But gone are the days of spending 6 hours at Briarwood Pool hoping that Jenny or Kelly would actually “go” with me. No longer do I shack with my sig other after 8 hours of drinking Keystone Light at the Commons poolside hoping that we can move from hand to mouth. Now it’s long pants, ties, and depositions. Which leads to the real Oklahoma summer offender: Swamp ass.

It is 2008. You would think Express or Banana could perhaps develop a long pant that won’t turn my crotch into a tropical rain forest after 90 seconds in the “dry” Oklahoma heat. Honestly, I don’t even know why I bother showering in the morning. By 9:10, my ass is sweating like Robert Allen … breathing …

And there’s no way you can shit when you’ve got a steam room 6 inches from your bolls. But if nature Bricktown Burger calls, you spend as much Cottonelle wiping the ass of sweat as you do cleaning up.

There is nothing good about summer after you’ve turned 24. No vacations to Disneyworld Frontier City. No 15 weeks without work or school. No lazy Mondays at the pool. No all day drinking fests on June 19th because you wanted to have an all day drinking fest on June 19th.

It’s hot. It’s long. It’s depressing. It’s like my deeeek (minus the depressing part).