5 Reasons We’re Glad Summer is Over
Because it turns out that the only thing worse than winter is summer.
We’d be lying if we said there weren’t a lot of things that we’re going to miss about summer, but this Labor Day, we’re looking on the bright side of the impending change in seasons. Because as these five things prove, the only thing worse than winter may actually be summer.
Shitty Takes on Summer Food
Truth be told, we’d barbecue pretty much any creature that was pronounced dead by our local butcher – and love every last bite. But in some other countries, grilled summer masterpieces are a little more terrifying. Recently, Japan gave hot dogs a bad name by introducing something called the Black Terra Hot Dog as a delicacy in local restaurants. Complete with a rubbery, 20-centimeter slab of meat stuffed in a blackened bun – supposedly achieved through the use of injected squid ink – we’re confident that the charred steak we accidently dropped in cat litter would be better than this. Some things (hot dogs) are perfect just the way they are. Do not fuck with them in the name of summer or anything else.
Disgusting Public Pools
Photo: Daniel Kulinski/ Flickr.com
If you don’t have the luxury of owning your own swimming pool, you may have a select few options when it comes to keeping cool during those neverending summer heat waves: sleep in your freezer, remain indoors (with air conditioning) at all times, or, if that’s not cutting it, head to a public pool. The latter sounds pretty promising: a large water cooler filled with hot girls in barely-there bikinis and in need of sunscreen assistance, but as soon as you step through the mangled wire fence, you face an unfortunate reality. Not only are screaming children swarming the deck, but those hot girls you were dreaming about don’t even bother to look up from their sunglasses. And let’s not forget the suspicious yellow froth coating the pool’s entire surface area. Hey, what’s that weird floating—oh my god, it’s a turd. An actual turd. Perfect.
The Downfall of Happy Hours
Photo Courtesy of Fox
It’s no easy feat to ruin something as inherently spectacular as happy hour. Sure, there’s been a few drunken altercations with your boss, and you had to wipe puke off your shirt once or twice, but nothing beats a cold, cheap drink after a trying day at the office. Especially when it’s 100 degrees outside, right? Wrong. Thanks to summer weather, shorter office hours, and crowds of paying customers who would give their left nut for a seat on the patio, the whole happy hour market has shifted. Bars don’t need to offer deals to get people inside. And now, your only discounted drink options are a Sex on the Beach and a Watermelon Margarita, both of which sport a mandatory neon umbrella designed to deflate your manhood. The good news is that as soon as the leaves start falling, people will get all depressed and choose to drink alone at home, instead of trying to make happy hour happen. Welcome back, Twofer Tuesdays!
Overpacked, B.O.-Filled Commutes
Photo: Ianqui Doodle/ Flickr.com
Nothing beats a rank-smelling riding companion, especially when you’re on the delayed train to work and some asshole insists on squeezing into the already packed car. Of course, this tends to happen year-round, but in the sweltering hot days of summer you’re bound to be stuck with a guy whose sweat is dripping onto your arms, and who smells like a foot – because almost everybody smells like a foot in August. Oh, and that lingering stench won’t be letting go easily, despite using an entire bottle of Old Spice. Hope you have a private shower at your office, because otherwise you might as well just go home and start over.
Horrendous Summer Clothing
Photo: Marisa McClellan/ Flickr.com
While hot summer days are filled with scantily clad girls, they’re also filled with men trying to replicate that aesthetic by squeezing into an equally revealing pair of shorts. Gross. But while the scene is pretty nauseating it’s somehow not as bad as the throngs of morons who sport duck-filled khakis, patterned boat hats not even LL Cool J would touch, and “Hawaiian” flowered T-shirts you have no business wearing unless you are actually someone’s retired grandpa. Needless to say, we’d rather go naked than slap on any of these so-called trends. Although, the last time we opted for public nudity, it didn’t go over so well. Let’s all hold hands and pray that heavy overcoats and sweaters will make a speedy return now that summer is finally over.