Time. What is it? And who, other than Joni Mitchell, is to say? With the temperatures fluctuating 20 degrees every other day due to what the woke mob is calling “global warming,” one can no longer reasonably rely on seasons to delineate time. Starbucks released its fall menu in August, historically a summer month. Fools?! Maybe—but only the unenlightened remain bound by the human-created confines of time. Like Starbucks, I’m busting down [the] union [of temporal logic] to declare something right here on this ol’ blog: September is a summer month.
Oooh is that scary to read? Did you shiver under the mock turtleneck that you dug out of the back of your closet way too early? Are you quaking in the black ankle boots you’ve insisted on wearing, despite it still being 80 degrees out? I’ll write it again: September is a summer month. Technically, September is 75 percent summer anyways, as the first official day of fall isn’t until the 20th, idiots. That’s right, the law of nature is on my side. Who even made up the Gregorian calendar? A man? Named Pope Gregory? And you call yourself a feminist...
We aren’t little kids who “go back to school” after “Labor Day” anymore. We are grown adults who have to Google “prescription strength antiperspirants” when the summer sun is still beating down on us in the ninth month of the year. And since when do kids have a say in running the schedule of the world? We literally tell them when they can eat, sleep, and cross the road. But you want to give them the power in telling me when I must stop having a [insert adjective] girl summer? Grow up.
Let’s just go full Sheryl Sandberg and lean into it. Let’s stop talking about Gilmore Girls and intravenous pumpkin spice treatments and just go to the beach a few more times before the seasonal depression kicks in. You freaks are so eager to say goodbye to the joys of summer, I have to wonder what you’re running from. Are you afraid of having a great time with your friends? Do tan lines scare you? Summer Fridays too much of a stray from your schedule? With the destruction of the world’s ozone layer comes the perfect opportunity to just sit by the pool a little bit longer. Summer, as it is, is too short anyways. There are one billion weddings you have to attend, and sometimes when you take a nap on the beach, you run the risk of waking up three full weeks later. Extending summer is believing in the possibility of a better world.
And before you sycophants go tattle on me to the press and spin my story like one of those Flutterbye Flying Fairy Dolls, know that I’m not saying I hate fall. I actually like fall, but I like it to start in October—a solidly autumnal month. Timmy Clamchowder said it best: “Societal collapse is in the air.” The rules? They’re not real, and they don’t count. Enjoy your Labor Day, and know that summer, the most glorious season of all, is sticking around a few more weeks.