Nice weather

Ah springtime! Spring awakens all kinds of bittersweet feelings. On one hand, the weather is nice, the flowers bloom, the trees turn green, and new life springs up everywhere around us after a long, cold winter. On the other hand every shithead and his brother feels compelled to put their disgusting legs and feet on display at the first sign of melting snow.

Saturday it was 17 degrees Celsius and sunny. Now let's put this in perspective: room temperature is 20-21 degrees. If you worked in an office that was 17C, you'd complain to your boss and wear a cardigan and have a space heater and shiver and turn blue. Yet for some reason, every second nitwit in Cambridge decided that they would wear shorts and sandals. "Look at my legs!", they seemed to be saying, "aren't they shapely and muscular? Look at my wonderful feet! See how I wiggle my gross toes? Am I not footloose and fancy-free? I am a child of nature and reject your constrictive trousers and stockings. Oh, how they bind and chafe! My flesh shall be free to breathe the air and soak up the sunlight!"

Yuck.

No person of substance wears shorts in public unless they are exercising, in which case it is unavoidable. Gentlemen and ladies do not wear shorts, the same way they don't spit on sidewalks or run to catch the trolley train. I can't take a man or woman in shorts seriously. If you're a person who's always wearing shorts, I hate to break it to you but you have absolutely no dignity. Why don't you just get one of those little propeller hats and a lollipop to round out your outfit?

The fact that these speedbags are so damn eager to bust out the shorts and sandals that they'll do it in the middle of March, before God's little creatures have even come out of hibernation, makes it all the more worrisome. If you have any self-respect, for Pete's sake put the shorts and sandals away.