Thursday, July 23, 2009

Mother Nature is a Fucking Bully.

Honestly.

What. The. Fuck. Is. With. This. RAIN!!?

The only explanaysh I can come up with is that Mother Nature, or “Queen of the Harpies” as I like to call her, has something against the lovely and talented Summer, and is out to destroy her. CUNT!

Though I pride myself on generally having the answer to all of life’s problems and riddles, I’m completely dumbfounded when it comes to eliminating Mo-Nay and her evil ways. I’ve attempted several “sunshine” dances. Instead of wearing feathers and turquoise (to symbolize wind and rain, respectively, in the lame PG-rated “rain” dance), I lather myself up in coco butter and barbeque sauce and girate rhytmically in an open field. So far it hasn’t worked, which is both shocking and annoying.

I’ve also attempted to control the forces of nature with my mind and/or vajennica; written several letters to God, Al Gore, David Suzuki and Blair Waldorf; and blackmailed the sun-witholding she-devil with those naked pictures I have of her in a kiddie pool full of strawberry lube with 3 unicorns. Nothing. I just want to run out into the street, Jennifer Love-Hewit styles, and scream “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FORRRRRR!!!!” while twirling around dramatically and then bursting into dry sobs.

This rain! It’s ruining everything from BBQs to birthday parties to park days to my HAIR. This latter offence is the worst of them all. Attempting to make my mane look acceptable on the driest and sunniest of days is challenging enough – you try stylin’ two sheets of Kleenex into an acceptable work updo! Add dampness and Toronto sewer water to the air and it’s a losing battle every time. This morning I spent 10 minutes straightening my hair (didn’t know it was raining yet, FML), and all I had to do was walk outside for 30 seconds and BOOM. It looks like a herd of diseased and starving cows licked the shit out of my head and face. My bangs look like a 4 year old drew a swirly twirly wave on my forehead with a shart-brown marker. Good.

Today’s rain brought some friends with it – Fog and Cold Wind. Hey, why not! If I’m already being jizzed on by Mother Hater’s lady juices, I might as well be shivering and blind while it’s happening, right? Go big or go home.

Seriously, though. My nipples could cut through glass right now. And I only like to do that as a party trick, NOT while sitting at my desk during this last, miserable week at work (side note: I’ve thought it was Friday every day this week so far, which I suspect is another one of Harpy’s cruel mind-fuckerings. New word.)! All my wintery suits and work dresses were carefully stowed in the overhead compartment in like May, because that’s NORMAL. So waltzing into work every day in a JULY-APPROPRIATE summer work dress only to flash the entire office my rock-hard breast-eyes is really fucking grating.

The fog is the sneakiest whore of all. You don’t think it will affect you the way being pissed on and blown around does, but when you’re nursing a margarita and oyster hangover and trapped in an office in the tallest tower with no view other than a WALL OF WHITE NOTHINGNESS, you want to claw your tired, red eyes out of their sockets. That’s about where I am riiiiiight now.

I trust most of you are feeling the same way these days, so I leave you with this video of The Wolf Man teaching a baby wolf (eeeeeeeeeee!) how to howl (!!!!).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5T-ZThSE5rQ

In between contemplating the quickest and easiest ways to kill yourselves or others on this dreadful Thursday afternoon, please send me suggestions on how to either 1) rescue the glorious sun from mother nature’s kung-fu grip; or 2) manage to have some kind of fun in the rain. I’m REALLY fucking volatile right now, people, so don’t let me down.