Because It's Too Cold Here, or BITCH, as I've said, is a real thing and I have it. It's real because I just made it up. Boom. Look up BITCH and you'll see my face. Wait.
A bout of BITCH can affect anyone, anywhere, but because the South doesn't know how to deal with the cold, (hence the HERE part) people below the Mason-Dixon line are particularly affected. My people and I are ill-equipped for this extended winter. I'm from Louisiana where it is regularly 110* in the shade and it's no biggie. I can do 110 all day long. I now live in Texas, so it's pretty much the same weather and more importantly, it is Spring, for Christ's sake! It's March, people! By end of March, we are usually floating down the Guadalupe, beer in hand, listening to Willie Nelson alongside a shirtless Matthew McConaughey, alright? Alright, alright... But this year? They've just announced another Winter Storm Warning, which includes icy conditions, possible school closings and 100% chance of me losing my fleece-lined shit. Yep. We've been BITCH-slapped by Mother Nature.
|The cold always bothered me anyway, BITCH.|
The journey from SAD to BITCH was a short one. BITCH makes me and everyone around me freak the fuck out. BITCH causes weight gain, hoarding tendencies, gridlock on the highway, (Big ups to Atlanta!) and as a direct result of BITCH, one of the worst symptoms of all: The perpetual Ugg-wearing Eski-ho. The Uggs have been on since October and cannot be removed with traditional therapies.
|"It's so chilly, y'all"|
|"DOG WITH A BLOG" MARATHON IS NEXT? SUPER DUPER, KIDS!|
It's supposed to warm up soon. I'm looking forward to crawling out of my lair and feeling the sunlight on my face. Until then, I'm looking into BITCH therapy. I'm thinking one of those George Hamilton tanning lights, a kiddie pool, a Pez dispenser full of Xanax and heavy doses of vodka.
I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, stay toasty my friends.
|I want to fill these with broccoli cheese soup and put them on.|