As many of you may know, Texas has been the proverbial hair in the Golden Corral dinner that is the 2011 heatwave. I don’t know what proverb that comes from, but what I mean to say is that Texas is smack dab in the middle of one of its worst heat waves in decades. With autumn fast approaching, one can only hope the sun will soon get off its power trip and go see a therapist instead of torturing all us Texans with its evil rays. It’s not Texas’s fault your dad never loved you, Sun.
Much mayhem (not the All State kind) has occurred in this summer heatwave, including fires, sunburns, and car steering wheels reaching the temperature of frying pans. So let us grab a cold beverage and review the highlights of this passing, scorching summer.
I wrote this, most likely on some kind of sugar high the day before it was due, for part of a writing “packet” I had to turn in as my final when I took a creative writing class. It’s loaded with marching band references most people won’t understand, and if some people with marching band experience read this, they might not find it terribly accurate.
The bus pulled into the Canon ISD Stadium at 8:00 am for the Canon Marching Band Festival, but Mr. Avery wasn’t letting us get off yet. Most kids were asleep. Megan and Adair were sitting behind Chase and me. They were both listening to Megan’s pink iPod and they kept kicking the back of our seat to the beat. I knew they were listening to “Party in the USA” because I could hear it. I wished they would quit it; my back was staring to hurt.
“Miley Cyrus sucks,” I said.
“Yeah,” agreed Chase, “but she’s kinda hot.”
I frowned. To me, Miley Cyrus looked like she was ten. “Gross.”
“Charlie, did you just say Miley Cyrus was gross?” Megan gasped, poked her little black-haired head up over our seat and yanked the headphones out of her ears.
“What about Miley?” Adair shouted over the music only she could hear.
“Miley Cyrus is a famous singer and actress. She even has her own clothing line. I’m pretty sure that makes her cooler than you two losers.” Megan stuck out her tongue at us through her purplish lips.
“Not for long!” Chase got excited. “Not when our band gets discovered!”
It wasn’t much of a band. It was Chase, our Mexican pal, Ricky Martinez (Ricky Martin when we felt like being mean), and some guy named Jed he met at the bowling alley who was like thirty years old. One day Chase told me I was the manager and since then I’d been going to his house every Sunday night for band practice. So during every practice, I ate my weight in Cheetos while sitting on Chase’s couch and watching the band, or “Attack of the Weasels,” play Guitar Hero, the real instruments lying in the background untouched. I’d stopped going recently, though, because Jed was starting to creep me out. I thought he’d been going to Chase’s house to hit on his mom, but it was starting to seem like he was more interested in Chase.
Who woulda thought that the “forever” in Forever 21 was actually an acronym? Below, you can find the top secret meaning of the store’s title that the clerks don’t want you to know. For your convenience, I’ve attached links to the website in case you want to buy a present for that special shithead in your life.
- F stands for Fugly, as evidenced by this sweatshirt showcasing the retired Walmart smilie wearing a geezerish bowtie. His eyes have changed into hearts over time due to him relentlessly staring at little boys.
- O stands for Overseas. While I appreciate the fact that Forever 21 is desperately trying to be Takeshita Dori– and in Japan, Minnie Mouse is totally badass– in America, Minnie Mouse gear should be reserved for girls age 10 and under. If you are in your teen years or older and wear this, I will personally see to it that I punch you in the face. (more…)