Yes, I Can See Your Tampon String.

It’s getting hot outside and all I can say is: Fina-fucking-lly. 

My pasty skin is tired of being layered up and suffocated by itchy material that regularly convinces me I’ve got flesh eating disease and/or bedbugs.

Bring on the sunburns, motherfuckaaaah.

While I am most definitely celebrating the recent warm weather shift, I’m going to have to take a minute to be a hypocrite.  Stay with me, guys.

This past winter was the fucking tits. Why?

a)      I didn’t slip and fall once.

b)      It never got too cold for me to stop sleeping in my underwear.

Those are my criteria for determining the ‘titliness’ of a winter. I’m sure there are other (smaller) factors to take into consideration, but who the hell has time for smaller things. AM I RIGHT, Girls!?

While I can recognize that there were some pretty unpleasant days that made my face burn like a prostitute’s urethra, I feel like I need to remind people that it’s March.

It’s March, guys.

We didn’t even get snow in Toronto until January. That’s 2 months of marginally uncomfortable weather. So, congratulations to those of you who invested a small fortune in your douchey Canada Goose jackets. I’ve been meaning to tell you that you look like Queen of the Asshats when you’re sweating up a storm on the subway because you don’t know how to dress yourself appropriately. I’m willing to bet you’re the same classy skankasaurus who chooses to bare your droopy asscheeks in 15 degree weather, hoping no one will notice the tampon string or the fact that they’re three sizes too small.  

Believe me. We notice.

Having said that, I’m pretty fucking happy that it’s warm outside because it makes me feel less dead inside. There are a lot of reasons for this exaltation, but I’m going to let you guess what the MAIN one is…

….

Are you guessing right now?

….

Guess or I’ll cut you…

…

Ok, fine. I’ll tell you.

It’s booze.  More specifically: daytime boozing.

There is nothing more enjoyable, and downright awesome than drinking under the warm glow of the sun. Soaking in the cancer and giving myself early onset liver failure is what life is all about. And I’ll be honest with you guys. During the colder months, I spend several hours a week perusing my summertime photo albums on Facebook. I don’t care if you think it’s pathetic. Your mom is pathetic.

Last summer I discovered the beauty of Gatorade & Vodka (Vodkarade… or Gatorka, for you awkward types). I’m pretty certain it’s Jesus’ gift to mankind… but don’t quote me on that… I hear Jesus gets pretty pissed when he finds out people are wrongfully saying he invented cocktails.

What have we learned today?

1)      The world is full of giant douchewranglers.

2)      The season of butt cleavage is upon us.

3)      ‘Summer’ is just a glorified term for ‘alcoholism’.

4)      And most importantly, Jesus makes wicked cocktails.

This week’s assignment: Use the term ‘titliness’ in a sentence at least three times.

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Update!

It is with great pleasure that I accompany this post with a wonderful image.
Thank you to Jen Hladkowicz, who helped dream up this masterpiece.