And, here I sit....

Here I sit and I'll tell you why - there's a couple of reasons, actually. First, it's too damned hot to move without risking the possibility of requiring a toweling off and a change of clothing, and possibly even a shower, due to the instantaneous deluge of sweat resembling the plane landing scene from "Airplane!".

Second, I am currently sitting on a faux-leather chair, and if I get up there is a strong chance of leaving at least two layers of skin behind.

So, while I'm captive to both my chair and the pants-crappingly hot and humid weather, I'm going to let you all in on why Summer can smooch the sweatiest part of my nether regions.

The heat:

(I'll get this out of the way up front.)

Are you fucking kidding me? It's been in the 100's (with the heat index) since June, and that makes me poop my pants a little when I start thinking about August - the nastiest and most horrifying month of Summer. See, I'm not normally so enraged by the heat, but the last few Summers have been pretty mild, and I've gotten used to that. Now, I'm taking it personally. When it's cold you can just put on some more clothes, add a blanket or (heaven forbid) actually do something active to warm yourself. With the heat you're pretty well fucked. You can only get so naked and there is only so little you can do.

The author, as naked as he can get, out for a jog.

Bugs:

You can bitch about the winter all you want, but there are no bugs. Fuck mosquitoes, flies, gnats, moths - and especially fuck hornets and yellow jackets. It's like I can't even leave the house without being attacked by one of the aforementioned flying pains in the ass. I don't mind honey bees so much; they actually do something and have the added bonus of dieing painfully if they have the temerity to sting you.

The author, trying to relax, mid-July

Pretty Girls:

This is new to the list - you see, I'm married. Being married is akin to being dead. More like being a ghost. You can see all the wonderful things around you, half-naked girls mostly. However, you don't have the ability to interact with them, and they can't even seem to see you any longer. It's just awful. No, it's worse. If I happen to get caught looking, even a little bit, I get the old stink-eye from my dear sweet wife... if I'm lucky.

Pictured: Stink eye

For those of you un-married... Kindly go fuck yourselves.

You poor, dumb bastard.

Doing Any-God-Damned-Thing:

What was once a simple chore in the spring has now become an exercise in endurance. I fondly recall hopping in my car and heading to the store. Now, I almost have to wear a fireman's suit to even get in my car; then, there's the joy of grabbing onto the steering wheel, which is just below the point of being molten to liquid, and holding onto that fucker the entire trip. Mowing the lawn is unbearable - you have the same issues as driving, just without the added benefit of the wind from driving, being separated from the bugs, and technically in the shade. Trying to have sex in a house without central air is nothing short of an exercise in futility and shameful disappointment; then again, I'm married, so that's not really an issue. Fuck's sake, I have to wait 'til everyone leaves the house just so I can masturbate in front of my air conditioner.

People:

I hate people in general, but when the weather warms up there are more people out - therefore more people to hate. It's really exhausting. It's harder to find parking spots, and stores are more crowded so it takes longer to check out. I have loud neighbors that feel the need to sit on their front porch and get wasted, and then get pick fights with their wife/girlfriend - I swear to Christ it's like living in an episode of "Cops". It needs to get cold again so people will just go back inside and stay there. I have the common courtesy to just be a shut-in and not bother people with my presence unless I absolutely have to.

I think I've at least touched the tip of the ice-burg with those few little gripes. If you hate Summer as much as I do... then, you're a fucking liar or just plain wrong. I fucking hate Summer.

I do like the fall, though.