Sometimes, in order to figure out what you want, you have to figure out what you definitely do not want. So, much like you feng shui your way to more love, success and happiness in your surroundings, it’s time to take stock in my mind and clear out some garbage.
I have proclaimed this to be the Greatest Summer of All Time, I’m just gonna call it GSAT from now on, like prepping for law or grad school but infinitely more fun. Here’s a list of things I will definitely not be doing during this GSAT.
1. Those ladies of “Sex and the City” will be cavorting their way back into theaters to kick off the summer with the second version of their crappy-ass movie. Now, I really enjoyed this show—it was cute and pithy and, at times, relatable (i.e. the characters did not always get what they wanted). However, I am officially done with it. They never should’ve made the first one, which was so ungodly horrible, that I was squiggling in my seat, praying for that two-hour-plus Botoxed Viagra-fest to come to a merciful end. And now, upon viewing the trailer—which trots out the same clichés (shoes! Free stuff! Cute guys!), plots (oh, Mr. Big, why must you flirt with hot Penelope Cruz?) and even lines (“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”). No fucking shit. We’re in hell. A hell that, if the advance ticket sales and rumors of a greenlighted “SATC3” are any indication, we’ll be subjected to until they’re hags rolling around in wheelchairs, taking out their colostomy bags to fuck. Like an old, gimpy horse that needs to be taken out back and shot, I beg of Hollywood, put it down! Put it down!
2. Attend any sort of Williamsburg-related outdoor music event/pool party with Hipsters wearing neon/headbands/fedoras/leggings/gladiator sandals/muumuus and/or jellies.
3. Knitting, making of arts and crafts, or participating in any conversation about the making of arts and crafts.
4. Miss the third installment of the “Twilight” series. Yes, “New Moon” sucked. Do I care? Not really.
5. Attend any large outdoor music festival in other cities (i.e. Lolla, All Points West, etc.) in which the only form of relieving oneself is a porta potty.
6. Go to Queens.
7. Attend a Mets or Yankees game. I’ve done both—they’re both way overpriced and the stadiums are a pain-in-the-motherfucking ass to get to, unlike my beloved Cubs, with Wrigley pleasantly plopped alone the shoreline. However, I will attend a Staten Island Yankees game.
8. Pay for sex.
9. View porn at work (in the morning).
10. Go to the Jersey shore. But I will be up for watching the second installment of this MTV juggernaut, when those tanned, taut little Neanderthals go to Miami, as well as scrape together the asking price to hire Snooki to make an appearance at a party. Anyone else in?