5 Reasons Summer Is The Best Season

1. Weddings and Engagements

I love love. I wanna live vicariously through that love on Facebook and then again for the bass-drop when the actual wedding goes down. If I don’t get invited, I tell them I’m in photography and offer my services at a ridiculously competitive price, then I’ll hire professional photographers and pay for half. I’m usually paying $15k out of pocket depending on location, plus an extra $400/hr so I can occasionally guide the photographer’s angle. $200/hr and he’ll nod but keep the same angle. The important part is what’s happening beneath the surface:

The groom and the bride are surrounded by all the people they’ve blacked-out with or worse, which mixes adolescent nostalgia and friendship over a Bunsen burner of love and alcohol. That’s why I stopped taking ecstasy before weddings – it was too much. Dance floor aside, people thought it was weird that I was happier than the couple.

2. Borderline Nudity

There’s something special about it. It’s reminds me of how our ancestors probably lived: carefree, exposed without the cultural norms we layer for a reason we get too hot or pale to care about. It’s that sense of community you feel when you realize you’re not alone, everyone has a belly button.

In fact, a belly button might be the best anatomical symbol proving we’re all meant to be ‘connected’ in some intangible way, we all came into this world connected to someone and thus we strive to connect with others. Maybe that’s just the way I’ve chosen to rationalize body shots.

3. Butterflies

These things are sweet. A couple shots into Memorial Day I recall someone saying they were going to Costa Rica to work with butterflies. At first I was like, “That sounds awesome,” but when the edible kicked in I decided this Costa Rican butterfly job isn’t just scary, it’s downright dangerous.

Let’s assume you’re getting the recommended 8 hours of sleep. That means you’re waking up in the tropics, out of a dream, to walk through an atrium of butterflies. The line between reality and the dream world blurs and pretty soon you don’t know what’s real. You’re asking some tough philosophical questions like, “Is all reality created in the mind?” or “Have humans always been able to ride butterflies?”

The butterflies couldn’t care less – they know they’re blowing your mind because that’s what they do. Blowing minds is why they’re still around: they lull you into a daze with their psychedelic-patterned wings and wait for other things to eat you. It’s kind of badass.

4. Sun Induced Mania

The sun is a sneaky gypsy-whore. She fires rays of light across the lawn, through the dewdrops and into your eyes as you stare out of the break room window. What you don’t know is that the sun is hypnotizing you, challenging your beliefs and choices with it’s light. It’s like the sun is pelvic thrusting on the edge of a pool filled with beautiful women saying:

“Dude, how sick is this pool party? Why are you inside? Inside’s so lame,”

You just sigh and drop your shoulders, oblivious that Steve is standing inches away from you under the same hypnosis,

“What a beautiful day,” Steve says.

“Sure is, wish I was out there…”

“Me too…”

Hidden between those words are undertones of mutiny, a stirring rebellion to reclaim your independence. Your other coworkers file in behind you like soldiers, pledging an oath of fealty to that whore’s crown. Then the boss enters the break room to see what the fuss is about,

“What’s going on out there? What are you all looking at?”

You and your fellow warriors turn towards your boss with manic smiles, eyes still glinting with sunlight.

“Nothing boss, it’s just such a…beautiful day…don’t you think?!”

Your boss gives everyone the day off, runs shirtless through the sprinklers, gets fired, and you get promoted. All because of that dirty, Dionysian gypsy-whore we call the sun.

5. Bees

Yes, bees. Remember the first time you were stung by a bee? It was probably when you were a kid and the world was your oyster: you were having a water-balloon fight at the park when a bee stung your foot. Shock, pain, tears, screams, confusion, and for the first time in your life you lost faith in the world. You were brought up to believe pain was only inflicted when deserved, but that bee changed everything.

Now you’re an adult with decades of life experiences layered atop that painful summer day. You’re watching your kids play, reflecting on your new role as a parent when those beautiful thoughts are interrupted by a bee buzzing right into your face.

Your face now stricken with terror and your arms batting the sky, your spouse tells you to stop swatting at it because you’re making it angry, which is bullshit because how could a stupid insect have emotions? Then you start pleading with the bee, promising it you’ll leave him alone. You regress back to your childhood self and everyone laughs – a moment of sheer panic for you becomes a hilarious display of humanity for everyone else.

It’s gone. Calm down. Regain composure, you’re a fucking adult.