How to Have a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Summer
A seven-step guide
With a mere few days until summer officially arrives, the time is nigh to kick up your feet and have a very bad summer*. Below, our seven-step guide to doing it right.
- Get plenty of summer television. Close the blinds and watch every episode of BrainDead thrice over. If asked what you’re doing, say you’re getting ready for the general elections. Watch Uncle Buck. Ask yourself, what would John Candy do? Counterpoise screen time with midday naps. Make sure you have black-out blinds.
- Exercise only the moment you’re at the beach. Pretend you’re McConaughey. Compare yourself to others. Find the hottest plot of sand then walk your hands out to full plank and see how long you can last. Suggestively grunt at passersby.
- Never wear sunscreen, ever. In fact, tape one of those aluminum sheets that women in New Jersey use to tan on the sidewalk in front of their apartment building around your neck. Then get nude and walk around barefoot.
- Wear black. Always black. Make sure it’s a conservative black. Not charcoal. Not jet black. Not “You sure that’s black?” black. Just plain flat black.
- Practice portion neglect. Allow yourself a steady diet of twist-off beers and lorne sausages. Go to the state fair and pet ponies and find something fried to eat. Feed the ponies cotton candy. Snack like you won’t be eating in a few hours, and then eat dinner alone after 9 P.M.
- Share your summer with others … but only via social media. Keep a close eye on your mobile phone and check your text messages over and over. Buy a drone but don’t tell anyone. Learn how to fly it then post a sick video via a studiously timed Snapagram that will run before lunch but not too early before lunch because then no one will see it. Put a filter on it.
- Don’t make plans. Make plans come to you. Let summer be a spontaneous rupture of zero plans. Find a small group at a party and let them know you haven’t been out of the country in a while. Ask for their travel recs. Ask them where they wanna go. Ask them when. Then walk away, go back to Step 1 and repeat.
*Don’t actually do any of this. Do do our 37 Things a Man’s Gotta Do This Summer instead.
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