What Would Emilio Estevez Do?

Regarding the closing days of summer
I would get your arms ‘round a babe and get drunk under the stars. Hop in a hot rod, a ’67 if you can, and cruise through the nights of your ever youthful life. Let your friends join. Blast 80s music. Shake your head from side to side the rhythm. Dance your dance. If you don’t have a dance, do a jig or two from Flashdance. Wail your arms while riding down the byways. Float your hand in the wind from out the window. Let nature take a hold of you. Slam your Ms. Piggy up on the hood and commence propagation. Pull out and yell out to the sleeping city. Jog down the main streets exalting. Push it to the limit. Smoke that cigarette tucked in your ear. Drive the wrong way. Be a rebel with a cause. Spike your hair and spit in the mirror. Ask the waitress for extra ketchup and wink at her. Slap your lady’s ass hard. Mock the geezer in the lane next to you. Challenge the bum to a fight. After beating the bum up, shake him senseless, screaming “Get a Life!” Eat a bratwurst without a bun, forcing it into your mouth. Kick over the garbage can. Smash that beer can on your head. Wear tight jeans draped over Chuck Taylor’s. Swing on the park’s swings and afterwards break it. Adorn your body with an inconspicuous tattoo. Wake the night. Scurry home to your parents’ pad for 6am curfew before they arise to pay for your hapless adventures. These sleepless summer days will never come again – relive your youth!