(no subject)
It's easier to suffer comments about California not having seasons gladly when it's not my fourth day in a row putting long johns on under my jeans to scrape ice of my windshield and drive to work in thirty-something degree temperatures at 10 am, past snow-covered low hills, hoping to hit a peak in the mid-forties at the heat of the day.
Bitches, that is a season, and it's called winter, and if we're getting it at nearly sea level in a coastal climate in late autumn, and if, while not our average long-term experience, it's not uncommon either, that means we have seasons here. Winnipeg we ain't, and you'll get no argument from me about that, but we aren't fucking Cancun.
Bitches, that is a season, and it's called winter, and if we're getting it at nearly sea level in a coastal climate in late autumn, and if, while not our average long-term experience, it's not uncommon either, that means we have seasons here. Winnipeg we ain't, and you'll get no argument from me about that, but we aren't fucking Cancun.