With your cold, snowy rain and slush and sleet. With your stupid Valentine's Day and fewer days (except every four years, ya pretentious freak). With your got me drinking more than I should, alone, again...I'm bladder-deep in Jack Daniels as I type this, practically seeing ddoouubblle. With your no one goes shopping, so my hours get cut and my checking account gets smaller and smaller; I'm this close to utter ruin, you parasitic month. Your like an emotional vampire, sucking my soul, my happiness, my will to live. You scumbag! With your cloudy days and chilly nights, making my pathetic, broke ass hibernate indoors, missing concerts and shows. You miserable, soggy sponge!
Good-bye, cruel and unforgiving and bitter month, and Hello! to March. With your Spring Break attitude and warming days/nights. With your Kerouac Birthday and My Birthday (the Ides of March). With your Saint Patrick's Day full of Guinness and cheer, covered in my favorite color of green. I'm just a dumb Mc, you see. Ah, March, come to me like a lover. I wrap my arms around you in glee.