I've a bone to pick with a certain poet

FUCK T.S. Eliot with his April is the cruelest month horseshit!

From the The Waste Land:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding   
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing   
Memory and desire, stirring   
Dull roots with spring rain.    

and blah, blah, blah.

No. No, it’s not. February is the most callous and barbarous of months, thenkyewveddymuch. This last, fattest, full calendar page of winter is, with it’s ferocious blizzards, coldest temps, streets and sidewalks piled with dirty, crusted, icebound snow. We’re already worn out from the cold, bleak days of November, December and January and then February just hauls off and pummels us while we’re down. The fucker.

Yeah, it may be the shortest but it’s the most sadistically ruthless of months.

And yes I do know that, if I was a skier, if I lived for snowboarding or ice skaing, I’d be ALL about February. Man, any sad that would creep in would be entirely due to these being the final weeks for my frozen fun.

That ain’t me. I’ll take those Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Now please!

I am SO ready for spring,