Fuck all those people. You know what's depressing? August. Fucking August. Is there a shittier month than August? Yeah, I know my mom's birthday in August, and without her, my existence probably wouldn't be fact. But seriously, August sucks.
- There's no fucking hockey to speak of. By now free-agent signings have largely been reduced to AHL fillers. Preseason is still weeks away. I want my hockey damnit.
- There's no football. Sure camps are starting and all that crap, but who really cares. There's nothing interesting going on until the games that count start. Nigbayadi Gumeniauois, the seventh round draft pick out of Eastern Uzbekistan State got cut, YAY!
- Baseball is about twenty games away from being relevant/interesting if that ever even happens any more.
- NASCAR, not that interesting to begin with, is in the dreary middle of the season.
- My softball coaching season is done.
- My inline hockey season is done...except this year it isn't! Yay fall session...even though it isn't actually fall.
And then there's the weather. Now I know that August is different for some of you readers, but I live in New York. That means that it's still fucking hot. Look, I'm about five feet, ten inches tall and roughly negative eleven pounds. I'm better equipped to deal with the heat than the average American, and I fucking hate it. Masturbating is not that vigorous an activity. I don't need to sweat while doing it.
And you can't beat the facts. Statistics show more people that are me contemplate killing themselves in August than in any other month not named February (it's not even good enough to have thirty days!). Truth.