TODAY'S WEATHER 501
Spring happened as a fart in the air conditioning--happened upon my face. She bent over, whapped her butt with her right hand, and sent it rippling.
Reverberations of high atmospheric pressure, crushing lows and rain everywhere.
But then spring farted, and that pastey, floral fart turned heads and obligated families to take family trips to anyplace designed to later provoke nostalgia through photographs. It made me sick for it was my own. And I smelled it. And it smelled good. It smelled more...intoxicating than the toilet-paper perfume that the bopper girls whore downtown.
I can not report a more gusty breeze. And for that, I am sorry. The ladies wear skirts. That's enough.