Since no one is yet tired of hearing me bitch about the winter and the cold and how bad it all blows, let’s continue.
Right now it’s negative one billion degrees in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Meanwhile in Altadena, California it’s a delightful 60 and sunny.
Balls. Huge huge snow balls.
Why do you live there then?
Worst. Question. Ever.
Because Minneapolis is a fucking rad town. It’s full of gorgeous lakes and rivers and breweries and tattooed weirdos and really stinky bike messengers. Plus the cost of living is low and the traffic doesn’t make me want to murder very often. And the summers are fucking amazing. You get like 700 hours of daylight each day, patios are open all over town and the bike messengers take on an extra special funk.
I hear the fall is beautiful there too!
For the love of goddamn Christ. Stop.
It’s you fall-loving assholes I blame for getting us into this winter mess in the first place. You knew fall was going to turn into this shit but you encouraged it along anyway because autumn is “so beautiful.” Basically just like your average teenage pregnancy: a few minutes of fun, the aftermath lasts a lifetime. What began as a few pretty colorful leaves is now a 30-year-old woman with a slutty stoned teenage daughter. Who the fuck wants that? I mean come on. A couple of bumpy, orange gourds thrown together in a festive cornucopia is not worth giving up the subsequent years of your life that you would have spent doing fun things with your friends but are now filled with diapers and burping and spit rags and poop.
Blech.
Even the dog has a shitty attitude. I mean look at her. To me this face says “between no walks and freezing my asshole shitting on the snowy patio you can go fuck yourself.” But that’s just my interpretation.
I mean if that’s not the definition of poor dog morale then I don’t know what is.
Ew, make your bed.
Why even bother?
So next fall, bitches, please please please get your heads out of your own asses and remember how you feel this week. Remember how embarrassed you were when you slipped and fell on the icy sidewalk in front of a short bus or when your scarf got caught in your friend’s car door and you were almost strangled. Remember when you had six colds in 12 weeks and almost froze your hands off while trying to put air in your shitty tire. Remember when your Netflix wouldn’t load because everyone within reasonable vicinity was also using the world wide web as their only means of entertainment effectively clogging up the internet tubes.
Then remember how you felt when you decided to get in shape for your spring break trip to somewhere cliched and trashy but discovered, upon removing your bulky sweater before spin class, that you’d mysteriously gained 15 pounds practically overnight. And by overnight I mean over the course of the four months that you spent leaving your house solely for work or to purchase more Malbec.
So scrape those frozen fucking tears off your face, get on some birth control and pull it together. Winter life is hard so the best we can do is complain and commiserate through it. Speaking of, the next person who so much as suggests I “just take some vitamin D” is getting punched directly in the thyroid. Who’s sad and fat now, huh?
