Okay. I wanna talk about the weather.

Why is it so freakin' cold out there?

I'm sure that you've noticed. It's freakin' freezing out there. So let's talk about it, shall we?

Anyone notice how damn hot it was this summer? It was unbearably hot. And I sweat a lot, so let's just say that it was really disgusting - or as me and some friends like to say - buhgusting and buhgross. There was no real way to escape the heat unless you had air conditioning. And if you read one of my summer posts, you'll see my plan to put air conditioning in every corner of the world before I die.

But now it's freakin' cold out. Why the two extremes?

Um, global warming? El Nino? La Nina? Does it worry anyone else besides me?

Now let's talk fashion. There is a connection, I promise.

In this kind of weather, why do we subject ourselves to be victims of fashion? Because while the peacoats and wool coats look nice, they don't do a damn thing when the weather is this damn cold. The air seems to get underneath so that it gets right to us - and lately, I've been sporting a leather coat. Um, the leather doesn't do much of anything. It's as useless as a baby in a topless bar. In fact, it holds the cold. Why in the hell do I wear it?

'Cause it looks cool. It's nice. And expensive. And black. And I live in Manhattan. What the hell am I thinking?

While I'm standing out there, waiting for the bus to arrive, and I'm doing the math between what time it is and the time the bus gets there and the chances and probability of me freezing to death - I notice that I'm not the only one who's delusional. I notice that everyone around me, clad in nice jackets, are doing the same damn thing.

Why do we do it to ourselves? I would be happier than a pig in shit if I just wore a fleece jacket underneath my goretex crew jacket. But the leather jacket or my peacoat look so much better next to it.

I blame Britney Spears. Well, not really, but it's a change from me blaming the Republicans, isn't it? Actually, I don't blame anyone but myself. Silly old me, trying to look cool going to a bar. If I just wore my big and not as nice jackets that would keep the warmth in, I'd probably be happier. And come to think of it, we all are. No one gives a shit what you're wearing. No one. Except ourselves. And if someone else did really give a damn, tell them to screw themselves. They're probably wearing a thin leather jacket and freezing their ass off. And you can tell them, "At least I'm warm, jackass."