Dear Spring Breakers,

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Dear Spring Breakers,

I know it’s only Monday, but enough already. The reality that my parents don’t love me already smacks me in the face every morning when I wake up in a shit hole apartment that smells like a combination of burnt pizza and weed. I don’t need to spend the whole week being reminded that they wouldn’t fund a trip to a beach so I could get irresponsibly drunk and almost drown. Instead, I’m watching tv with my family until they all go to bed at ten, and I’m left taking shots of shitty vodka alone in my childhood bedroom.

Also, I hope the realization that you actually hate 90% of the people you went with sets in soon. Because let’s be real, 15 people crammed in 3 hotel rooms and getting shitfaced all day and all night will inevitably lead to a fight. Girls, I can’t believe you thought you would make it the whole trip without bitch slapping your roomie. Get real. Boys, it’ll take 10 shots until you’re in a fist fight about who gets the blonde and who’s stuck with the brunette. (Sorry, girls. Blondes actually do have more fun. I’m a living testament.)

Anyway, I hope you all come home with a sunburn that’s more painful than the one I got in a sketchy tanning bed today. And even worse, I hope you have to make the whole trip home sitting next to the girl/guy you beat the shit out of for no good reason. But hey, thanks for posting all those pictures and statuses about how much fun you’re having! I’m having fun too making a list of all the guys I went to high school with that might still hook up with me while I’m home. So cheers to you, spring breakers..  At least my mom can be my sober driver to Taco Bell tonight. You guys are screwed.

Sincerely,

I wish Missouri was closer to the ocean