Screen Shot 2013-07-17 at 2.48.39 PMI used to do all sorts of weird shit during summer vacation when I was young. Baseball. I was big into baseball. So I took over head groundskeeping duties in my backyard. There were four dirt patches – conveniently around where bases would be – that I cultivated with steady diet of water, raking and broomstick-drawn lines (I would learn from my dad years later – like, two months ago – that the patches actually came from me playing baseball, not as a sign from God that Moonlight Graham was on his way to Delco). It was my own field of dreams, in a way, but most neighborhood games devolved into a fight between me, my Eddie Haskell-ish neighbor, Scott, and 2005 Phillies draft pick Mike Costanzo.

I had other summer quests, too.

One year I filmed a movie, an independent sequel to Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Sudden Death in which I faux kicked another neighbor’s ass in my basement for 45-straight minutes and then watched it back in super slow-motion while my mom made me Toaster Strudels upstairs.

Another summer I memorized every line in Ace Ventura by watching it every morning (jn case you couldn’t tell by now, I am an only child).

Another I played house with the girl next door because I thought she was hot (nothing ever happened, it turned out she just wanted help cleaning the dishes… in retrospect, the game was a real accurate portrayal of grownup life).

I would also sometimes fart in kiddie pools because I liked the smell of gas and lukewarm water (still do, if we’re being honest).

Anyway, if only I had channeled my ambition toward producing something like this – the greatest downtime stunt ever pulled off by the youth of our nation – I would have felt a lot better about what was in those first six paragraphs. Watch the best Vine ever, after the jump.