Guest Post of the Week: “Ain’t No Cure for the Summertime Blues”

DUTCH FISHING BOY TALES, Journal Entry #627:
by Bobby K

Dear Diary,

My buddy Mike is coming over in half an hour, but I still gotta get the grass cut so my mom doesn’t get pissed at me, especially after that last fiasco when I said I’d take out the garbage, but I forgot to do it for like 16 days or something, I can’t remember…

I’m gonna get high as fuck first, and crank out some unintelligible screamy tunes. Gonna play my shit loud enough to wake the deaf comatose old fucks at the hospital. Gonna be awesome!

Oh fuck.

Umm, as I was finishing the lawn, I crossed the walkway to the neighbour’s apartment. I totally smoked their welcome mat! It blew out the side of the mower like a flock of angry birds trying to escape the pits of hell.

FLOOOMP!!

Shit, I gotta remember that word when I tell Mike this story. It was more like…

FLOOOMPHH!!
Yeah! That was the sound!!

He came over and said we should just find the pieces and put it back together, and no one would notice.

We did our best.

But now it just says CUM.