misery for twelve months. It has gotten so bad that the prospects of
summer now infuriate me because I used to love May and June yet now
dread it like I used to dread the first day of school. The garbage
stinks worse, everybody's temper is shorter and every line seems that
much more endless.
Long gone are the days of summer dresses, short skirts and and
open-toe shoes and happiness; every chick you see now has sweat stains
under her pits, a small lake forming on her back, a frizzy head of
hair and athletes foot and I am holding global warming responsible.
So between ExxonMobile, the Chinese government and every ahole driving
an F250 I give you a big F you, I hope you like your chicks stinking
like rotting fish and looking like they are a deckhand on Deadliest
Catch
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