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Current date? April fifth. Current temperature in Chicago? 28 motherfucking degrees. Twenty. Eight. Degrees. You know what that weather is good for? Skiing. Snowboarding. Sledding. Sitting indoors in a lodge and drinking hot chocolate. Do you know what that weather is not good for? Everything else.
Fuck the fact that I have to wear a beanie to work and commit to having fucked up hair all day. Fuck the fact that Spotify is recommending me spring playlists filled with songs about warm weather and sunshine. Fuck the fact that my skin is so pale you can see through it, and fuck the fact that I had to break out my winter coat again a few days ago when it snowed. Fuck the Midwest. Fuck the cold. Fuck winter. I’m taking back my spring, and I’m drinking a crisp Summer Shandy.
Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy, in case you don’t know, is a delightful beverage made of a mixture of beer and lemonade. It’s fruity, it’s airy, and it’s the perfect beer to drink when you’ve got a long day of patio drinking in front of you. Does it make any sense to drink while wrapped in a sweatshirt inside your own home? No. No it does not, but that’s not going to stop me from doing it.
The truth is, I just don’t believe in the climate. Not climate change, of course. That’s very real. But the current climate. Below freezing in April? I don’t know, guys. It just doesn’t seem believable. I feel like maybe the simulation we’re all living in just got stuck for a second. Like, the aliens/robots (alien cyborgs?) that run the matrix we call reality maybe stepped away for a second, to, like, take a smoke break or something, and now we’re experiencing December weather four months late. Maybe it’s an easy fix solution, or maybe they have to call cyborg alien IT to fix it. The point is, this isn’t real, and I refuse to believe it’s really happening.
April isn’t a time to be cold, it’s the opposite. It’s spring, when we fling open the giant glass windows of bars and open the patio back up. Hell, I distinctly remember drinking a Summer Shandy on the patio during March madness last year, unless my memories are also part of the simulation and have been corrupted. The point is, fuck this weather. It doesn’t get to dictate what I will or won’t do. Just because the stupid weather thinks it’s still cold doesn’t mean I have to listen to it.
No. No. I’m sitting out on my porch, and I’m drinking a goddamn Summer Shandy. In fact, I’m on my second one right now, and I think it’s working. The second that tangy, mildly-alcoholic beverage touched my lips, the climate started figuring itself out. Soon, it will be spring in earnest. You’ll see. You’ll all see. The clouds will part, the sun will shine through, and the temperature will raise about forty degrees. Now, that I think of it, however, just drinking a couple Shandies may not be enough. I mean, were the weather cooperating, I surely would be working my way through a six pack by now, right? That’s the problem. Don’t worry guys, I’ve solved it. Spring is on its way, haha.
Oh yeah. That’s the stuff. I can feel it working already. Can y’all feel that? I’m only four Leinenkugel’s in, and it’s already getting warmer. In fact, this is working so well, I think I know just how to speed it up. All I need is more summer-y drink, which as we all know- margarita! That’s right! Who guessed it? Sorry, it’s so loud with the blender going. Here we go. Just a little bit of tequila. Little more. Little more. One for the marg, and one for the bartender, as I always say, haha. Haha.
And there you have it, you beautiful bastards. Step outside right now, it’s warm as hell. So warm I’ve taken my shirt off and I’m tanning. So warm my fingers are going numb. I did it, guys. Spring is here. I knew I just had to bully April into submission a little bit. You’re welcome. You’re all welcome. I’m going to take a little nap in the sun. Come on outside. The weather’s perfect. You can barely feel the snow..