ham fisted theatrics

Today was Earn-Your-Spring weather: A damp slushy cold motherfucker that said "You can have all the unseasonably warm January and February days you want, March gon stay March." I remember my first winter here I thought March was like the finish line, this may have been because growing up in Phoenix March was warm anyway, and on all those big elementary school wall calendars March always had green plants sprouting and the happy sun coming out. A more accurate calendar would show a gravestone marking where a green plant had been, and the sun flipping you off from behind a cloud.

All's well, though: I am having my first ever Actual Spring Break, in Miami. Donald says Miami on Spring Break is like a rap video come to life. My standard on whether or not that's true is if, when we're down there, I'm able to roll down the tinted window of my gargantuan purple SUV and let weedsmoke roll out, so the smoke can transform a nearby clot of uptight bookish girls into strippers in fur bikinis.

I don't think that's unreasonable.