Summer: The Season of Murder, Decay, and Warm Beer

My calendar tells me that summer is coming and other events I’m looking forward to, including “Testicle Scraping”, “Trepanning with a Sharp Stone”, and “Prostrate Exam at Local Prison.”

Summer is a shit time of year.

In Baltimore, summer means three H’s: hazy, hot, and humid. It also brings the three M’s: murder, murder, and more murder. Yes, everyone is outside, slinging drugs and shooting each other in the face. Of course, a host of innocents will be wounded or killed for doing nothing more than sitting on the steps outside of their homes – ain’t the summer evenings a sweet time?

Oh yeah, don’t forget that the warm weather in Baltimore brings out those jolly; devil may care “12 O’clock Boys!” (Leave it to some fuckwit “documentary filmmaker” to romanticize people who openly break the law.) This group of degenerate assholes rides illegal motorcycles all over the city!

Imagine the summer air perfumed with exhaust, screams of pain, and the nerve-shattering whine of two stroke engines. Let’s all go promenade around the fucking park! Sometimes they’ll even run over people, and the Baltimore police have a “don’t chase” policy.

These rascals love to idle their bikes and kick your cars while at stop lights. Golly! What a bunch of rogues. If I could install a few .50 millimeter machine guns in the Fozzmobile, I would turn them into pate, and feed them to the crabs. Fucking scum.

Along with these signs of summer is the release of children from institutional learning facilities. Oh what a happy, sweet joy! The oldest and middle Fozz Spawn will be sleeping late, fucking with my schedule, attending camps, and bitching about the weather. Maybe I can convince them to open up a bourbon stand for the little asshole snowflake kids in our neighborhood.

You can goddamn well bet that the joy of family vacations will be visited upon me, and every other sad son of a bitch who calls himself ‘dad’. Vacations are indeed delightful; you can escape the mundane world and visit the beach, the mountains, the valleys, tourist attractions, and a host of other slag pits filled with the reek of desperation, crushed dreams, and screaming goddamn children.

Outrageous prices, scalding temperatures, and holding a grudge against survivors of the Bataan Death March are sure signs that you’re on vacation. The kids won’t appreciate a goddamn fucking thing and Mrs. Fozz will look longingly at me, with the most wonderful visions of murder dancing in that sweet little head of hers.

Forget that long tortuous drive, you can always count on the neighborhood pool for refreshment from those hot as a motherfucker summer days! Crowded with screaming children, babies shitting in the water, old people who bare too much of their saggy, wrinkle ridden flesh, and middle age mothers.

This last bunch of sexually frustrated bitches are God’s worst creation – right after Patriots fans. They spend the entire summer poolside, judging and bitching. Their husbands are hard at work – lawyers, financial advisors, strip club owners, shit sucking scum all of them – and still they sit complaining. And if you happen to splash one of them, or their fucking degenerate spoiled fat snowflakes, it’s as if you pierced their eyes with a K-bar.

I also notice that rednecks seem to thrive in the summer heat. I don’t know why, they’re just more obvious. Horrible tattoos, stringy tangled hair, flubbery fish belly white bodies, proud racism, and loud obnoxious voices are the trademark of this pathetic group. Every year a few of them drown, making the gene pool that much cleaner. I’d like to wrap a moldy Molly Hatchet shirt around their pinheads and set it on fire.

So there’s summer, in all of its fleshy, sweaty, violent glory. Fuck it. I’m going down into the basement and lay on that glorious chilly tile. Cool as a cucumber, with bourbon close at hand and a pipe of the good stuff smoldering in the air. Don’t bother me, I’m not coming out into that hideous, flesh-searing glare.

Dear summer, go get caught in a rip tide and die, motherfucker.

Thing that Made Me Smile this Week

Middle Fozz scored a goal, he’s a long stick defender so that’s rare, and was awarded the game ball. Also, a group of DFOers managed to piss Sill off, good job you deviants.