Other Reasons Bananarama Thinks That Summer Is Cruel But Couldn’t Squeeze Into Their Song Regarding Same, Unlike the Man at Bananarama’s Pool Who Perpetually Squeezes Himself Into an Ill-Fitting Leopard Print Speedo Most Summer Afternoons.
Bananarama finds large people in tube tops and short shorts positively revolting.
Bananarama is so tired of listening to friends talk about how cool camping is. (Though sometimes Bananarama secretly wonders why friends don’t ever invite Bananarama to go camping with them.)
Bananarama detests mosquitoes.
Salt water makes Bananarama’s skin itch like a motherfucker.
Bananarama believes Crocs are an abomination.
Bananarama loathes the urgency and breadth and scope of summer time hair removal.
Bananarama thinks the whole season is really just a very subtle extended contest between Bananarama and everybody else. Days are longer and Bananarama has fewer responsibilities, so each day becomes a series of passive-aggressive skirmishes punctuated with hyper-compressed humility and backhanded boasts and compliments regarding who is capitalizing the most on all the fun they should be having. Failure to capitalize on the limitless opportunities for generating mirth fosters feeling of inadequacy in Bananarama.
Bananarama hates it when its leg fat gets stuck to the vinyl seats in Bananarama’s car.
Bananarama has an aversion to the general smell of people.
Bananarama has no use for kids who cannot seem to get the hang of eating popsicles or ice cream cones no matter how often Bananarama explains to them the importance of eating with alacrity and awareness.
The humidity gives Bananarama’s hair a mind of its own.
Bananarama despises feet; hates the summertime ubiquity of feet; hates looking at people’s corns and bunions and toenail fungi and the general blistery podiatric mutilation.