rainy day women

those gray, fluffy things that hang about, i don't know, hundreds of feet in the air and occasionally spew millions of polar oxygen atoms with hydrogens bonded to it are making my life hell. i have long since believed that those little buggers must have some sort of mind of their own, because pure physics can't keep those electrons spinning around some sort of microcharged ball of optimism, so i know that they are falling from the sky purely out of spite. they want me to be miserable. they're up there thinking, hey, SmartPineapple has to ride her bike a mile and a half to the other side of campus today. let's make her figure out the delicate angle of which to hold an umbrella so that it doesn't cause her to rise off of her seat and float away, not unlike what we did to Miss Mary Poppins.

that bitch. Mary Poppins. i KNOW she was in cohoots with those little hydrogen bonded bastards. the floating away at multiple points in the movie say it all. she was prepared. and they didn't have weathermen back then, so it's not like she went to weather.com, saw strong wind gust warnings and thought, now that would be a chill trick. everybody will love me then. that naughty little girl will finally take her nasty medicine. and my stupid little "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocous" will get me a few platinum records. she was probably their leader. miss mother weather herself.

well fuck mother weather. that's what i have to say. i'm cold. i'm tired. it's wet. so anybody that comes into contact with my grumpiness can take it up with her.

and my fish is a pervert.