Postcards From the Middle of January

Cheers Chuckleheads.  You know what happens today at Noon?

At Noon today, we will be smack dab in the middle of the month of January.

Smack dab, I tell ya.  And you know what else I say unto you?

January sucks!!

You know how bad January sucks, at least here in Ohio?

If you took the self-denial and sexual repression of Marcus Bachmann, stirred in the hate of Ann Coulter, blended it with a modicum of Barack Obama’s lack of a backbone, and gave it just a hint of the smell of Chris Christie’s asshole, then?

You would know what the middle of January in Ohio is like.

As I said…It sucks.

If January was an animal, it would be a donkey.

A big, gray, uncaring donkey with big, cold, steely donkey balls.  And every time the wind blows, which is often in January, those big donkey balls would smack one upside the head leaving nothing but heartache upon one’s soul, and testicular indentations upon one’s face.

January loves no one.  January feels for no one.  January is a cold, selfish bitch, and I am glad we are now halfway done with her, because the bitch that is January, cannot die soon enough.

January is the desert of the four winter months.  A desert of a month that contains no oasis, and holds no hope.

See, as far as three of the four winter months…

December ushers in the winter , but also the joy of the holidays.  February gives us Super Bowl parties, the love of Valentine’s Day, and the teasing of the warmer March spring to follow in but a couple of weeks, and when we do hit March, St. Patrick’s Day gives a joyous shout out to all in the form green beer and red mercury on the rise.

January?  What the hell does January give us?

A hangover on New Year’s Day.  Over-Hyped College Bowl Games.  Snow. Wind. Gray Skies, and as an exclamation point atop its rudeness…

January provides us all with our W-2 Income Tax Form, which puts into print and to the dollar and decimal point, just how insignificant and worthless we truly are.

January is a reminder that no matter how bad things were the last eleven months, they can always get worse, and do…at least for the thirty-one days during which she has her way.

January is many things…a hateful ex-wife…an IRS auditor…Dan Dierdorf…and the lack of joy and excitement inside of  Mika Brzezinski’s bedroom, all rolled into one insufferable month, but?

We are now a mere two weeks away from February…

A month that holds not only great Super Bowl party food, Cupid, and the birthday of yours truly, but the hope that spring will once again spring eternally, and on schedule as well.

So, and in summation…January blows donkey dicks, and its donkey balls, but there is hope, and…

It is always better to believe in the light of February rather than curse the donkey balls that are January.

Or something like that…however one puts it…January Sucks.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattman_iws
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