The Worst Things to Do in Miami This Independence Day

The Worst Things to Do in Miami This Independence Day

Summer is here, and in addition to blistering and unforgiving heat there will be many special activities available to the citizens of Miami. We here at The Plantain know how valuable your time is, what with binge watching sitcoms in your poorly lit studio apartments, so we’ve compiled a list of all the things you should definitely avoid this July.The Downtown Urine Tasting Jamboree: Started by a group of misguided perverts, this annual abomination makes the top of our list for a myriad of reasons. The biggest among them is the smell, which is only worsened by our city’s grueling heat. If the smell doesn’t kill you, the people will. The festival’s attendees are a subculture that one hopes will be the first to go in any sort of government purge, and will spend hours talking to any visitor about the medical and culinary benefits of ingesting urine. Oh, you thought this was a sexual thing? Nope, it turns out these people are beyond serious about drinking urine and will try everything to convince you they aren’t insane. It’s best to keep at least a two mile radius from this event, and just wait for it to die out like a feral dog with mange. Held July 4. >If the smell doesn’t kill you, the people will.

The Matthew Perry Film Festival: Did you know Matthew Perry has been in many films? None of them were good, or even watchable really; but that didn’t stop one disturbed individual from erecting a monument to mediocrity with this annual binge of Matthew Perry’s cinematic disasters. The Whole Ten Yards, Fools Rush In, and even A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon are just some of the many films we implore you to not watch at this godforsaken event. To clarify, we have nothing against Matthew Perry as a person. I’m sure he’s a normal Hollywood douche in real life, but his films are perhaps the worst thing to ever be put on a screen since John Goodman’s colonoscopy footage; and only half as entertaining. It is our deepest hope that no one turns up to this event, and that its organizer decides to do something more productive with his time like gardening or working on his suicide note.

Held July 5-8.

The Men’s Rights Convention: Apparently, men are now a downtrodden class. I wasn’t aware of this – being a man seemed like a pretty sweet deal all things considered. But these “men” will be the first to tell you how hard it is to be a man in a world that is now ruled by cruel women. This batch of greasy virgins feel that the fact they are unemployed, unattractive, and generally awful to be around is somehow the fault of the women who reject them. This convention is an excuse for grown babies to complain about how hard it is to not immediately get whatever they want professionally or romantically. Try and hold your vomit as these cretins demand that men somehow be paid more money and have more power. If you like inane statistics about how one guy didn’t get custody of his kids mixed with every possible slur against women, then this is the place for you! If not, then steer clear of this dumpster fire and don’t make eye contact with anyone you seeing going to it.

Held July 10-12.

Bill’s House: God I hate this guy. His house is somehow always freezing cold and humid, he always offers Hydrox and warm Pepsi as snacks. But you can’t just tell him how much you despise him, you were friends in middle school. And you weren’t even really friends! Your mother made you go over his house a few times cause she rightfully pitied him, and he’s just clung to you like a leech all these years. Deep down you hope he dies, or at the very least is injured so badly he can’t bore you with his endless stories about his trip to St. Paul. There’s nothing interesting about St. Paul, Bill! Stop telling people about it! If you value your time, never even get near Bill. The man is a sickness that must be eliminated. Held anytime Bill can trap you into conversation.

by Daniel Jimenez