I've Been Putting It Off/I'd rather be golfing

"Twenty-nine, all I've learned
is how to fall when the tables turn"

When did my life turn into Bottleneck's Late Nights, Early Mornings album? I love that album, but if I was going to pick an album for my life to mirror, I'd rather it be, I dunno, Prince's Batman soundtrack or the Andrew Vincent & the Pirates' I Love the Modern Way or something. Something a little more PARTY-FRIENDLY, something a little more, I don't know--something a little less LIKE MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.
SIGH.
I hate June. I used to love June, because, y'know, SUMMER, Mayfair Pool all day everyday, long evenings on my bike going deeper and longer into the city and the riverbank. Now, it's just another month that goes by too fast. Though, last June, there was the High Dials show, followed by Batman Begins like the very next night. So that was cool. But in general, June is just a reminder that I've let another May slip by.
So, I was walking home the other night, and I saw a car with a bumper sticker that said, "I'd rather be golfing." And that got me thinking.
That's kind of a shitty bumper sticker to have, because, y'know, what if, like, you're at the hospital watching your child be born (I should maybe note here that I imagine only a man would have a bumper sticker that says "I'd rather be golfing"--not that women don't love the golf, but y'know, ahhhh, men: we're shitty), and like, here's your child being born, meanwhile, your car is telling the whole world that you'd rather be golfing. Poor kid.
Or what about when you ARE in fact golfing?
As I walked past this car, which was parked near the YMCA on 13th Ave, I thought about what I would do in the unlikely situation that I would find myself at a golf course parking lot, surrounded by cars bearing such a bumper sticker. I imagined myself losing my branez, screaming at the top of my lungs, "You ARE golfing, you whiny brat!"