Spring break is nearly upon us, which means hordes of Aggies are getting ready to head off to exotic locales for a week of relaxation and recuperation from the strenuous scholastic year.
Or at least, that’s what I used to think. I’m on to you people now. I recently read an article that revealed the bitter truth to me.
Apparently spring break activities traditionally include binge drinking, recreational drug use and casual sex. This is news to me. I traditionally spend the entire week asleep to catch up on all the lost hours leading up to midterms. I suppose spending the entire week in a state of unconsciousness is about identical to what y’all will be doing, except I won’t wake up with the name “Bubba” tattooed across my posterior (or, for that matter, with Bubba himself.)
So the question I really have is, why can’t students do this where they already are, instead of making expensive trips out of the country? I mean, I’m pretty sure that binge drinking, recreational drug use and casual sex will be just as casually, druggily bingeful on my couch as they will in Cancun.
That’s right; you, too, can make irresponsible, life-changing decisions from the comfort of your own home. Why waste time, money and effort to travel? Just sit tight and I’ll walk you through the process of having the best budgeted spring break from your recliner.
If you can’t make it to the beach, just bring the beach to you. Throw some sand on the floor and bust out the wine coolers. The best part? It can be whatever kind of beach you want. I decided mine was a tropical nude beach, but now my roommates won’t speak to me.
What else do you do to celebrate spring break at home, you might ask? Why, casual sex, of course. Unfortunately, I can’t be a whole lot of help in this department because I’ve never really understood this phrase. “Casual sex?” I’m still trying to figure out the “casual” part. Is this like “casual reading” or “casual games,” where you pick it up for two minutes and then leave to go do something else? Well, I guess it would beat casual Sudoku in the back of class. “No, I don’t have a question, I was just, umm..stretching.”
Here’s what I don’t understand: “casual” as opposed to what – “professional?” (Becoming a prostitute to raise enough money to go on spring break would be a good idea – I mean, it’s what you’ll be doing over there anyway, right?) So I guess casual sex is like the minor leagues, full of amateurs and hobbyists, while serious sex is the major leagues, where you have trained professionals and collector cards with stats and million-dollar endorsement deals. I guess with all the binge drinking and recreational drug use, spring breakers can’t risk the screenings for performance boosters.
While I admit I’m still confused as to the definition, I’m doing all I can to make sure my spring break is as casually sexy as possible. For example, I plan on shooting my own “Guys Gone Wild” video in front of my bathroom mirror. Here’s a thought: why is it that if girls run around getting drunk and flashing people, everybody’s like, “Hey let’s make videos of this and sell it to middle-aged divorcées!” but if I go around offering the exact same performance, I get arrested?
Once you’re all casually sexed up, the next order of business is to get sloshed out of your mind. It’s not really spring break unless you don’t remember anything.
It’s like those bumper stickers that say, “If you remember the 60s, you weren’t there.” I don’t remember the 60s, so I guess I must have been the life of the party. In following this rule, I must have spent the earliest years of my life in a state of perpetual sloshedness. What can I say except, “those wild days of youth…”
I don’t have any recreational drugs, but I do have some strange-looking weeds growing out of the compost pile in my backyard, so we can smoke those and see what happens. My guess: dysentery. And there’s also… well, they’re not mushrooms per se, but there is something of a fungus-like nature growing back there, too.
No matter how much you experiment with herbal concoctions, it’s just not spring break without copious amounts of alcohol. “But James,” you say, “alcohol is expensive. How can I hope to achieve amnesial intoxication for an entire week whilst keeping within any kind of reasonable budget?”
To which I say, fear not, for I have found the perfect economic alternative to drinking. I sneak up behind you, hit you over the head with a hammer, then take all the money out of your wallet. The effects are exactly the same: you wake up with a headache, can’t remember what you did last night and are significantly poorer. Just think of all the wear-and-tear you’ll save your liver.
Now if you could just look over there and hold still for a second…