Spring starts this week, although I’m sure many of you thought that it has actually been going on for the last 3 weeks. With that in mind, let’s see what you have to look forward to this spring….
THE HOTTEST YEAR IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE
Rather than deliver a liberal rant about global warming destroying civilization or a conservative rant about the heat is God’s punishment for America’s sins, I’ll just say that this year will be HOT AS BALLS. Also, we’re all doomed.
The ice cream trucks with their creepy music will be making their rounds. The 37 Sonic’s we have will be slammed from sunrise to sunset. Every lower-middle class family will take their tax return and purchase an “Easy Set Pool”. None of them will be used by July, as people soon realize that an Easy Set Pool in the middle of summer is a boiling death trap that Gargamel would use to boil Smurfs in to obtain their magical goodness.
What fantastical mysteries await Clarksville? We always say it’s hell here, but the temperature might match our moods in a few short weeks…
350% Sales Increase of Coochie Cutters and Wife Beaters
Why can you only find long sleeve shirts and dress pants at the CityThrift? Well, that’s because people are going to be stocking up for this long, hot, spring. Asses and arm fat will be hanging out like never before, and that’s not a good thing. People in Clarksville tend to lack this thing called “shame”, so even the 350-pound beasts from the east will be exposing 13 inches of skin above the knee. If there’s a plus side to this, hopefully fewer soldiers will be lured into the lairs of ham-monsters that tend to hide their buckets of fat under moo-moo’s and all-weather tarps.
But it’s not just the ladies that will be embarassing themselves. More men this year will be slapping on the thin cotton-y goodness of a wifebeater. Hopefully that’s all the slapping they’ll be doing… but I doubt it. Something about whitey, tighty, sleeveless tees causes the men to drink too many Busch Lights and get arrested for domestic assault.
On the plus side, it looks like it might be a busy year for ClarksvilleWTF mugshots!
Last summer I watched a 5″ hornet grab a 6″ dragonfly, disable it, and drag it under the patio, where I assume it met a dark, rapey, death. I can’t imagine what the hell we have to look forward to this year.
People have been complaining about mosquitos for several weeks. Ants are already building trails to the nearest garage. Junebugs will probably be arriving at the beginning of April (early bastards). At this rate the mud wasp will soon become the Tennessee state bird.
Screw this, I’m calling Orkin now. I’m guessing they’re already booked up until September.
Lawnmower battle royale (w/cheese)
Speaking of being booked up, the great mower battles of 2012 will continue. Every country boy with a dream of owning their own business will be knocking door to door, trying to be your next lawnmower man. Read this old article about their trials and tribulations…
But you get the point, right? All the large and lazy people we talked about earlier won’t really be in the mood to hop on their Murray mowers, and they for damn sure won’t want to push anything that doesn’t include the words “honey glazed” or “double frosted”.
Smelliest Event Season Ever
As if you didn’t have enough reasons to stay inside, this is sure to be the most ‘stank’ year ever. Take premature heat waves, sweaty mouth breathers, and overpopulated events, and you’ve got a formula for a B.O. bonanza.
This might be the worst year ever to attend Jazz on the Lawn. Alto saxaphones won’t be the only things belting out funk this summer. And a bottle of Harmony isn’t gonna be enough to drown out the smell of Subway sandwiches and Boone’s Farm people sneak in.
Oh God, and Rivers and Spires and Riverfest? It will never be a more appropriate time to name an event after Ol’ Smelly (AKA Cumberland River). The literally unwashed masses will tumble from booth to booth, grabbing swag bags full of free ink pens and buttons from mediocre banks. I know I’ll be there looking for a Scentsy booth so I can try to mask the ass smell.
So we might be paying for a mild winter. I didn’t really miss the 5 degree mornings, but I’m also not looking forward to 100+ degree Saturdays.
I guess my point is this:
I’m a whiny bastard and I want things to be exactly like I want them.