House Painting: It's a pity job. You're pitied more than an armless kid in an Easter egg hunt. No one hires college painters and doesn't expect do redo all the trimmings the following day. Only mothers who have kids in college will ever hire you, because let's face it, you don't care enough to do a good job. But the pay is great—too bad you're too worn out to spend it.

Dad's Office: "Yeah, I was going to work somewhere else, but my Dad got me a job in his office doing some administrative work." What this really means: "So my Dad hired this really nice single mother who couldn't afford to feed her kids, and she was doing a great job, but then he realized I didn't have a summer job so he fired her and put her family out on the street. Realistically, I won't do anything but fetch coffee and ward off seductive glares from Wanda, the buzzardly, post-menopausal accountant with more excess skin than Hurley from Lost after a week in the sauna."

Camp Counselor: This isn't even a job. This is just avoiding going home so your parents can't confront you over the Facebook pictures your cousin showed them of you doing inappropriate things with midgets on spring break. A good camp counseling job gets you like four dollars an hour, but that money will never be worth dealing with children. See, when kids go to camp, it is the only time of the year they get to be away from their parents. So an otherwise tame child at home becomes the Tasmanian devil on meth at camp. Oh yeah, I hope you like mosquito bites.

Food Service: You're a trooper. You deal with the most miserable people when their blood sugar is low from long afternoons of scratching lottery tickets and watching DVR'd Idol episodes. Seriously, props not only for dealing with angry, hungry people, but also for touching their disgusting, slobber-laden plates and silverware. Extra props if you can go all summer without spitting in anyone's soup-of-the-day.

Internship at a Law Firm: Get ready for three months of pretending to know what you're doing all for the sake of not getting yelled at. You will be by far the dumbest person in the building at all times, including when inbreeds in Jeff Wallace shirts stop in for consultations once a day seeing if they can get a million dollars from their microwave-intercourse mishap. Seriously, I interned at a law firm last summer, and I can't even begin to imagine the terribly illegal things they tricked me into doing. Except the time I had to poison the other intern for giving out private information. I know full well what I did that day.

Landscaping: Now this is genuine summer work. The only problem is there are plenty of illegals who can be hired for much cheaper than you, and they'll do a phenomenally better job. Much like house painting, college kids are the New York Knicks of landscaping. All we're really good for is throwing down some mulch and asking for lemonade after being out in the sun for ten minutes. Even if by chance you are an excellent landscaper, you most likely have bad work ethic, like the rest of our generation. Seriously, we sit around more than Terry Schiavo.

Retail: Eh, whether you're folding clothes or selling CDs, the job really comes down to being bored all day long, wasting whatever talent/intellect you have all for the sake of making that coveted ten dollars an hour. You'll become a master at inventing games out of literally every aspect of your job. In my two years at Best Buy, I used to keep tabs on demographics in the DVD section, and I noticed that not a single white person ever bought Madea's Family Reunion, and not a single black person ever bought The Clint Eastwood Western Icon Collection. What did I learn from this? That retail is EXACTLY what you expect it to be.