Coming up on mid-August, I’m officially treading in the deep end of this year’s summer. I have, by now, developed an efficient schedule for the settings on my window fan and also the appropriate times to wear socks. With California’s absurdly constant weather, most of this came with ease.

But there’s another summer staple that’s poking me in the back of the knee, and I’m talking about this summer’s complaint: gas prices. Man I love complaining about gas prices. I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it. Exxon/Mobil pulled in $40 billion in profit last year. Oh, and I also joined some groups online and we’re totally not going to buy gas at the end of the month. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we send them out of business.

Right.

That idea would be more effective if each participant shot themself in the face. At least that way we could be sure that none of them flaked out and bought gas. Though I suppose the gas companies could see a slight profit increase, what, with all of that annoying funeral traffic.