Champagne Problems

Make-out Monsters For America

Hey there lovers of everything summer! If you haven’t experienced a healthy make-out sesh in a while, I’m here to tell you to get on it ASAP. But why? What’s the hurry? Well, there really is no hurry per se, and I certainly have no right to tell you how to live your life considering I’m a walking (adorable) train wreck, but I just feel like you deserve a treat and what better time to throw caution to the wind than the opening week of the hot n’ sweaty season honored by a delightful lip-lock? Now, no need to go balls-to-wall here and jump ship on your happy relationship. I’m just saying if the mood is right while you’re BBQ-ing it up on a rooftop and that cute boy that works at the Italian deli down the street makes his way into the party and your inner M.O.M (Make-out Monster) knocks on the door… then ding dong, “I’ll have a potato salad and also a “smootchie smootchie,” cute young deli boy.”

“Okay JC, we hear you. But why all of a sudden is this a topic of interest?” Well, a bit about me. If you need to know anything about how I roll, it’s like this: I’m about four witty broads deep, always pocketing dental floss, and absolutely alert for a cutie-patootie to be my arm candy when summer strikes.  “So what, do you like, hide under people’s beds at night, then attack their boyfriends?” What? No. (Although I would do it if you promise I wouldn’t go to prison, just sayin’).

You see, a “make-out monster” is somebody with lower standards than of all your friends combined (Ouch.) No, that might seem offensive, but I assure you, be proud of your self-given, made-up title. The reason? I’ve come to find in my years of traveling, performing and sitting in hotel rooms alone, that I really like bits and pieces of potential make-out partners, but as a whole,  I can’t be in a room with them too long.  That’s why I don’t bother getting to know the nitty-gritty that is the true “cute boy that came to my show last night,” because truth is, I merely want to “make-out monster” with you as the person I have made you out to be in my head. Comprende? No offense-eh?

Now sometimes, not always, but sometimes my inner “make-out monster” gets rejected. GASP. I know, rough right? But it happens. And when that happens, it ain’t nothing a Negro Modelo (if you’re of age)  and a pound of summer strawberries covered in sugar can’t rectify. So what are you waiting for? It’s summer and everyone’s in heat! And, if the person you “make-out monster” with is actually not in heat and a bit offended by your presumptions that he/she is in heat, then send them my way and I’ll tell them the Republicans made you do it.

Image via Northern Sun

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