email Jesse

Ah, spring . . . nothing exhilarates the mind and soul like springtime.  Sure, half the countryŠs covered in snow, but itŠs March, so letŠs talk about spring.

Ah, spring . . . I have so many fond memories of spring, from losing my virginity to being an accomplice to armed robbery.  But the weather!  Fresh air wafting through the glade, the moss beginning to thistle through the thickets or something . . . yes, spring is for poets.

Ah, spring . . . I remember one time in the spring I fooled around with a girl in the hallway at high school.  It was great fun . . . I was horny and she was hot.  Sure, she didnŠt talk to me again after I †went too farÿ . . . kept complaining because I, quote, †bit her too much,ÿ unquote.  But you know what I blame for that?  Spring.

Ah, spring . . . You know, more murders take place in the springtime than anytime else.  I think itŠs because everybodyŠs just thrilled to be out of the house out of a long cold winter.  You know how you get so excited you inadvertently kill people?  Well, you can thank spring for that.

Ah, spring . . . the groundhog peering out from its hole, the robin emerging and chirping its merry song, the bums coming back out from the gutter because itŠs warm enough to panhandle again.  Yes, spring is a time for rejuvenation.

Ah, spring . . . must you come only once a year?  CanŠt you replace winter and save us all the hassle?  Every day, I go outside, spray an aerosol can in the air, and burn 3 styrofoam boxes just so I can do my part to make it spring every day of the year.  DonŠt listen to those treehuggers, Spring . . . Seasons are for suckers.

Ah, spring . . . the time when young girls switch from tight sweaters to tight shorts and tank tops.  It truly is a special, special time, especially if youŠre a pedophilic bus driver . . . or George W. Bush.

Ah, spring . . . read the archives.

Ah, spring . . . bye.