The Disney World state getting pummelled by storms is one thing. Ice caps melting on continents I’m too poor to visit is also one thing. But when the weather in Brooklyn, NY is in the 30s, aka "wintry," one week, and then back to the 60s, aka "springy" the next, and this all takes place mid-November…well, it makes me want to walk down the street trying to find SUV owners so I can punch them in the balls. Because listen up, SUV owners: some of us take seasonal fasion VERY SERIOUSLY, and have SMALL CLOSETS, and therefore our giant winter coats must be one of two places with no exceptions: in constant use, as per normal in the Northeast ‘twixt Thanksgiving and mid-April, or stuffed at the bottom of a buried storage container. Last week I needed my winter coat, a scarf, AND a hat. This week, it’s back to a flimsy cord blazer and hooded sweatshirt. What is the meaning of this? I mean, worldwide extinction in fifty years is one thing (who gives a shit? I’ll be OLD), but I moved to the Northeast for a very specific reason: SEASONS. Four of them, in a row, that go: Warmy-Hotty-Cooly-COLDY, in that order!!! Not: Warmy-Rainy-Hotty-Rainy-Rainy-Really Damn Hotty-Warmy-Warmy-Warmy-FREEZY-Warmy-FREEZY. This is retarded, and it’s only going to get worse. If you own any car that gets less than 25 mpg, do NOT drive it by my apartment, or I will KICK! YOUR! ASS! (I’ll be the one wearing either a flimsy blazer or a giant winter coat, depending).