Mad Atoms

As an east coaster who moved to Los Angeles, I'd like to apologize on all our behalf. It seems you can't have a conversation with an LA transplant from New Jersey or Maine without them complaining about Los Angeles weather. "I miss the seasons," we all say in a piercing, nasal accent.

Fuck the seasons.

I grew up in Western New York, specifically a little Super Bowl-losing town called Buffalo. You've heard of Buffalo -- every year the nation gets a big laugh hearing that Buffalo got covered with 50 feet of snow. Yuck it up, assholes!

On more than one occasion coming home from school, the school bus didn't even make it anywhere near my house before getting stuck in the snowstorm. We had to get out of the bus, trudge through block after block of snow, and make it home -- only to find out that we didn't get enough supplies to survive getting snowed in for a week, so back into the snowstorm we went! 

Let me say it again. Fuck the seasons.

Los Angeles has one season: perfect. It’s always perfect. Does it get hot sometimes? Sure, for one month, but I’ll take that over months of soul-crushing snowstorms, followed by months of disgusting brown street snow which follows. Like in fall, it gets slightly cooler here during the winter, and like in spring, flowers bloom all the fucking time. What more do you want?

So if you’re an east coaster living in LA, and you miss your precious seasons so much, go back to your hometown and shiver your ass off this winter. I’ll be enjoying the sun and burning my winter coat on the front lawn.

Did I mention the thing about fucking the seasons? Good.