Somer Canon

@somercanon.bsky.social

Writer, horror-person, lover of cozy socks. Contact me at somercanon.com

Summer-loving people must be the most misanthropic group because nobody will just let it be summer. June? SUMMERWEEN! July? STILL...SOMEHOW SUMMERWEEN! August? AUGTOBER! Don't get me wrong, as a bystander, this is hilarious to watch, but an obnoxious summertime reckoning is coming.

Why do I feel like I'm expected to apologize to the spider I didn't know was living in my drain? I turn on the water and the thing runs out and stares me down like I ruined Christmas...

I accidentally let myself slip into full HANGRY at a super busy shopping plaza, and then I got stuck behind a city bus, and then my cat puked all over the one carpeted room in my freaking house. Anyway, I ate 11 tacos and now I feel better.

Shave my legs to make someone else happy? Um, no. I shave them because I get DRUNK off of the feeling of sliding into crisp, clean bedsheets with shaved, sugar scrubbed, moisturized legs. The opinions of others does not factor into that particular ecstasy.

"Look, if they're not thin like McDonald's fries, they need to be crinkle cut. I don't make the rules, but I do enforce them!" -me, in a casual dining restaurant, brandishing a plastic spork.