The season of self tanner and cellulite cream. Spanx and double chin distracting highlights. Cold beer and bonfires.
Everything I love and hate…all wrapped into one hot, sticky, pain in the ass season.
My biggest summer issues…besides being freakishly concerned that every picture taken of me in the summer is of me standing up, not sitting down, because even God knows you are way skinner standing up than you are sitting down…like a chubby, sweaty toad…with back fat…and smooshy thighs…
I could go on and on.
Shorts. Shorts was, um, the point I was trying to get to up there.
I’m the girl you don’t want to see in shorts.
Unless you are comfortable watching me picking denim out of my vagina and ass crack every 30 seconds.
Plus, things get all chaffey up in there.
I’m a sweater.
So, it’s just jeans and dresses for me.
And the only way I can even do dresses is if I wear a pair of my husband’s boxer briefs underneath (summer survival tip #9485).
Keeps things dry and un-chaffey.
Plus, I kinda feel like a dude, which is ironically hot while wearing a dress. So, I just spend the day walking around, turning myself on in my man underwear.
But, I mostly opt for jeans and a tank top.
Except it is super annoying when skinny girls in shorts get all, aren’t you hot in jeans, it’s super hot, I love shorts, look how sexy my legs are in these shorts, I’m a giant whore bag, I blow homeless people, Jesus loves shorts, did I mention it’s hot, you could park a van in the gap between my thighs. And I am all, hot? No way, the breeze is totally great, I’m not hot at all, if anything, I am a touch chilly.
I get it, you can wear shorts, with heels, and those cute little camis with the built in bras so your don’t need to have a bra strap showing, which, btw, can also kiss my ass. Shelf bras are a joke. All they do is give me one giant uni-boob that sags so low my uni-nipple touches my belly button.
Annnndddd……this is why I drink in the summer.
So I don’t attack skinny girls in shorts who don’t require under wires or baby powder between their legs.
Christ, I’m chilly, do you think it’s chilly in here?
Thank God I’m wearing jeans.
Plus, I haven’t shaved above my knee caps in three weeks.
Where’s the keg?