ON TUESDAY, major league baseball will celebrate its midsummer classic. The MLB All-Star game and festivities are a staple of an American summer, like picnicking, and days at the beach, and family holidays, and a tugger from a camp counselor. But the summer is not all sun, fun, and innocent petting. There are dangers lurking in the quiet corners of July. There is menace in the recess of August’s reverie. And I’m not talking about a sunburn on your junk, thought that is certainly a danger and Headshots recommends a sunscreen with a SPF measurement of no less than 50.
No, we’re talking about dangers that could lead to serious psychological scarring, injury, and injustice. Like a date with Amanda Bynes or voting for Rick Perry. We might have been inclined to kickoff such a column, or dedicate an entire one, to the dangers of accepting an unpaid summer internship, but we didn’t want to discourage the slave labor upon which our inflated salaries and sense of self worth are built. Not like I can pay someone to get me a coffee and clean my yoga mat.
(I kid, I kid. I love all my interns. Some more physically than others. Relax. You’re all getting a $511 honorarium, a letter of reference, and an STI at summer’s end, just like we told you during the interview.)
So before you get too deep into the July, Headshots presents five dangers of summer, one of which may or may not have been written entirely by the interns.
1. Jam Bands
“Hey man, let’s go see Phish at Red Rocks.”
This kind of careless proposition appears innocent, but evil lurks within. Look, we love the Dead. Love. But they spawned a hellfire of wannabe, mud-dancing, 16 minute guitar solo, vegan raw foodist jam bands that are a scourge to the nation during summer touring. Umphrey’s McGee, Keller Williams, String Cheese Incident. It’s all the same mistake. You think you’re going to catch four innocent hours of b-side unworthy stoner rock, but instead you’ll find yourself trapped in a pen of white people with dreadlocks, low-potency outdoor weed, Birkenstocks, hacky sack circles, and fine arts dropouts. You might as well go buy de-licing and bedbug ointments now.
2. Underwater Sex
There is perhaps no bigger lie in softcore porn or romcoms than underwater sex. Oh, sure, Jonny and Jenny are frolicking in mom and dad’s pool when all of a sudden we’re skinny dipping and dipping our skimmer in the pool filter. Bullshit. Underwater sex is damn near impossible, not really all that enjoyable, and could kill you. That’s right. It could lead to urinary track infections, yeast infections, some small organism can swim up your urethra and eat your insides. And you know you can’t get a condom on underwater, so someone’s getting pregnant. Trust us: get wet in the pool and get laid on land.
Camping is incomprehensible to those of use in the Headshots offices. Air conditioned, comfortable, electricity equipped offices. Why in the name of Henry David Thoreau would you want to sleep in a tent in the woods? Are you unemployed? Are you a sadomasochist? Are we indigenous peoples before Columbus rediscovered America?
Pretend for a moment we’re dating, and I ask you to spend the weekend with me in a sweaty five-by-five enclosure where we’re sure to get eaten alive by mosquitoes, wake up wet (and not in a good way), eat canned shit not suitable for bad dogs, and shit into a hole that sits above a pit of shit. Are we still dating at the end of that sentence?
4. Drinking Too Early
A common danger of summer is down time, time we often fill with drunkenness. But one needs to be wary of drinking too early. No one wants to be 3am drunk at noon on an August afternoon. Okay, some people do, but those people are alcoholic, at least not the high functioning alcoholic that makes up the base of Headshots’ demographic. The problem with drinking too early is that you miss out on important summer events that predominantly occur at night, like skinny dipping, drunken sex, Hold Steady shows, and unexpected roadtrips to Branson, Missouri to see Rich Little. In the Headshots family we have a rule, no drinking before 5pm, 3pm if it’s a special occasion (birthdays, anniversaries, Tuesdays).
5. Summer Flings
Some asshole may have sung “Summer Love” but it’s bullshit. The interns did some research and ascertained that no successful relationship has ever begun during the summer, summer romances are 67 percent more likely to include a psychotic sociopath who at first seemed normal, and that 89% of STIs are contracted during the summer. While it’s okay to engage in summer dalliances (the aforementioned camp counselor tugger, a quick “how’s did you enjoy the opening act?” in a Porta Potty at a Wilco show, going down on a high school girlfriend who’s in town for the weekend and who’s in an open marriage with the father of her three kids) to expect the summer fling to lead to autumn love is folly. July and August are for experimentation, self-discovery, and guilt free lovin’ with the cutie at your summer job who you’ll never see again. If you’re looking for love, wait until Labor Day, or better yet Canadian Thanksgiving.
So, be careful out there Headshotters. Wear sunscreen and two condoms. And for the love of god, don’t go see the Dave Matthews Band.
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