The Five Seasons of North Carolina

It is universally recognized that most places on this big green ball have four seasons.

Winter – It’s cold.

Spring – Shit grows.

Summer – Shark Week.

Fall – Shit dies.

That being said, I would like to point out that the state of North Carolina actually has five seasons each year. Some of these seasons overlap for maximum discomfort and they’re known to us by slightly different names than the aforementioned.

Season 1: Buy Milk and Bread

Seriously, winters are coming, you better be prepared. If there is even a slight chance that a single snow flake could fall from the heavens, the grocery stores are going to be packed and then emptied of everything but candy wrappers and sadness.

It is a state law that mandates that when there is a winter weather advisory, you must go buy all the milk and all the bread in all the lands. You could perish in the temperate winters of the South. We’ve seen Alive; we know how this story ends. We’re prepared to eat our neighbors if we have to.

When you live in a place where the power goes out when there is a breeze, you become accustomed to the Laura Ingalls’ brand of life. We once lost power for an entire week after a blizzard dumped three feet of snow on us in a few hours. The weather man said we’d get nothing. I’ve not trusted him and his Coke bottle glasses since.

This also happens when there is two inches of snow. The state becomes crippled by mental deficiency and the inability to drive. See that patch of ice? Wait until you’re right on top of it and then slam on your brakes. They teach it in driver’s ed.

Season 2: Oh Fuck, My Allergies

Mother Nature is a sadistic bitch. We have more species of pollen producing vegetation than should be allowed. We grew up here; we should be used to it.

We’re not.

Every single one of us is allergic to every single type of pollen there is. Then there are the chiggers, mosquitoes, bees, wasps, and all manner of bitey shit you have to contend with.

We’re all allergic to those too.

I don’t have statistics to back this up, but I’m relatively certain that we’re number one in snot production. We’re a sickly state.

Every time the season commonly referred to as “spring” rolls around, it’s like a giant allergic reaction to life. The older I get, the worse it gets. I can’t breath, my eyes itch, I look live I’ve smoked about a pound of kind bud, and my lips swell up to look like Lisa Rinna. Carolina girl’s ARE the best in the world, just not in the spring.

Season 3: Swamp Ass

There are petitions in Congress to have the name of summer officially changed to Swamp Ass. It’s like a fucking sauna down here for a quarter of the year. I could eat the air.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve just showered; you’re going to feel like a three dollar whore in July as soon as you walk outside.

It’s… moist. The only thing grosser than saying it is feeling it. It’s not sweat, it’s condensation.

You’ll constantly feel like you smell bad and you’re probably not wrong. If you’ve ever wondered what it felt like to be slimed on Nickelodeon or to walk through soup, you’ll know as soon as you go out.

It’s like walking through Mother Nature’s vagina. That sounds disgusting. It feels worse than it sounds. People from out West have said that they’d take 115 in Arizona over 90 here any day.

Season 4: Seventh Circle of Hell

This is often paired up with Swamp Ass to make you lose your will to live.

It’s 102 in the fucking shade, y’all. Eggs will fry in their shells and pool water is too hot to swim in.

You’ll start to feel a breeze and fall to your knees in thanks to God for the blessing that is about to be bestowed upon you only to realize that it feels exactly like opening an oven that’s been on all day. Our summer breezes will not make you feel fine. They’ll give you second degree burns.

When you’re outside for any amount of time, you fully expect your face to come off with your hand when you wipe away the sweat.

Imagine putting on all of your winter clothing and then getting into a tanning bed with five space heaters.

It’s like that, except you’re soaking wet and there are misting fans throughout the room.

Season 5: Oh Fuck, Floridians

Seriously. Do you people not have any leaves where you come from? Are there no leaves between Florida and North Carolina?

Yes, they change colors and it’s really pretty to look at. We just like to look at them while we drive past them at high rates of speed. There really is no need to drive eight hours just so that you can drive fifteen miles per hour down the Parkway to see nature and shit. It’s not going anywhere. Additionally, there is also no need to fucking STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMNED ROAD BECAUSE THERE ARE TREES THAT ARE NOT ACTUALLY IN THE FUCKING ROAD.

I’m tired of these mother fuckin’ leaves on these mother fuckin’ trees.

We don’t like you! Go away! Did you know that we don’t officially kick off swamp ass until one of you dies going over a waterfall? True story. Did you also know that the most commonly used phrase during the fall is “Fucking Floridiot Leafers”? That’s right, we named you.

Also, you really can’t drive.

That’s not fair. The half-backs can’t drive. For the uninformed, half-backs are the people from Connecticut that move to Florida to be warm, get too hot, and then move to North Carolina to see the fucking leaves. They’re halfway back. They need to keep going.

We live here because we like our abundance of nature and shit. We like that our nature and shit is quiet, uncrowded, and easily accessible during all five seasons except for one, the one where you decided that being an asshole while you look at fucking leaves is acceptable. Have you not seen Deliverance? I’m not saying that someone is going to sodomize you; I’m just throwing it out there for your consideration.


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