winter

Winter is my least favorite season for like, a million and one reasons.

If there are two things in this world that I really hate more than anything (like, even more than whipped cream flavored vodka), they’re adulting and cold weather.

After a schizo month of half-summer/half-rain (I’m told we used to call this “fall”), we’ve arrived at the shittiest season of all: winter, when the outside world fights me for my title as Ice Queen gets as cold and dark as you made your cubicle until the interns took their questions elsewhere.

Winter is upon us, and I’ve been ready and waiting for this shit since that time during Labor Day Weekend when I blacked out in a star spangled bikini and woke up wanting to banish myself to Canada for my actions.

If you vicariously live through Hollywood’s most hated adored celebs like I do, you’ve probs seen a recent trend pop up: the faux fur coat.

We’re in full swing of every thot’s fave time of year, aka fall.

Summer is pretty much over, according to my lack of summer bod, and that means cuffing season is in full effect, which also means that the only thing worse than potentially catching the fucking plague or whatever other life-altering virus planet Earth will soon undoubtedly dig up this year, is catching the feelings bug *chills sent down spine*.