School’s almost out! The time for feasting and merriment is nigh! Two months of idle reading and ill-advised buffoonery are upon us! Strike up the band and have them play the stout, patriotic songs we cherish most!
But wait! Halt the proceedings! Silence the infernal bleatings of the Pleasure-Goat!
I have decided to take two college courses this summer to complete a second Bachelor’s degree. Turns out my summer will be spent reading yellowed periodicals in the musty coves of my university library. Instead of doing daredevil double-decker deeds on a blazing-fast waverunner, I will be hunched bleary-eyed over my laptop writing twenty page papers.
Let it be proclaimed across the land that this summer shall suck at the chafed bosoms of Ursula the Sea Witch. All is lost. The handsome Prince Eric must now be shot in a ditch alongside Lee Greenwood as a grotesque, disproportionate symbol of my summertime inconveniences.
When school commences again, I shall officially be a highly-credentialed educator with an gleaming résumé and increasingly sizeable debt. I will be fully versed on the powers of the executive branch and theories on women and politics, which as you all know, are completely relevant to everyday life. The only price I must pay for this professional upgrade will be a disturbing level of physical deterioration.
Seriously, by the time summer is over, I will make Tommy Lee Jones look like Justin Bieber.
And I said silence the Pleasure-Goat, not muffle him! I mean for you to shut him up permanently, using the most slow, violent means possible! If I’m going to be unhappy this summer, at least let me take a damn goat with me!