Graduating Super-Senior
POINT: I Can’t Believe It’s My Last Hot Girl Summer
Five years gone. They really snuck up on me. Is this really the last summer I’ll ever have? That’s all I can think about — will I ever have another hot girl summer after this one? It’s paralyzing me. I’m writing this from my bed, which I haven’t left in two weeks. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t go to class, all I can think about is the death of my youth. This is the end of my childhood — I am no longer a 22-year-old teenage girl. Rather, I am a soon-to-be 23-year-old woman.
My friends tell me I should make the most of it, but I can’t. How can I look them in the eye and act like everything’s alright? Soon we will be saying goodbye forever. We are doomed to drift apart, our connection severed, a slow torture wrought by the ever-eroding sands of time. I’m not ready to accept the end of the only time in my life I’ll ever live in a walkable neighborhood or less than a mile from the beach. I can’t frolic in the sand like a free bird anymore — not when I know my hot girl summer will be taken from me too soon.
Above all else, I can’t believe I’ll never be pretty or hot ever again. Once I graduate, it’s a slow slide into oblivion and irrelevance. My MILF era can’t come fast enough.
Perspicacious Peasant Wife
COUNTERPOINT: Thou Shalt Have No Harvest
Prithee, child of my child’s child, thou art a fucking fool. I am barely two-and-twenty years, anon to beest three, and I am with mine third child aft’r five years of feather-bed. That’s marriage for thee modern lily-livered fopdoodles, who is’t has’t the timeth to waiteth until thou art readee. Girls art to beest covet’d and did wed for their maidenhead, and if’d be true I were to chaseth mine own sexual pleasures I wouldst beest shunned, or far worse. There was’t nay hot wench summ’r for girls of any age in mine own timeth. Forsooth, if’t beest true I were to spendeth all mine own timeth wallowing as thou art, there wouldst beest nay food cometh fall, for tis mine own occupation to tend the fields. Thee wouldst not beest alive as thine ancestors wouldst beest with the Lord, may God rest their souls.
Spendeth thy time in pleasurable company and enjoyeth earthly comf’rts, for thee knoweth not what dram youth I has’t hadst, all the kings in all the lands knoweth it hast not been enow to leaveth to spoileth. I has’t nev’r seen the ocean, and in the rest of mine own short life I shall nev’r has’t been more than 10 miles from the lodging I wast born. Thee has’t foods of the New World which art rare delicacies in mine own timeth. Thee has’t the privilege of a high’r education and I shall nev’r learneth how to readeth. Enjoyeth it: thou art a common bitch with riches at thy fing’rtips.
Kaz Nuckowski is a Copy Editor for the Muir Quarterly. They are usually found in Half Dome laughing and encouraging students to share their wit or giving their own suggestions to make everyone else laugh. Never doubt Kaz and their skills because they will surprise you, especially when the spread has a comic open and they are feeling inspired!
