Last night, I went for a walk as I’m wont to do in the evening, but I didn’t realize it was the night of the annual Jeep parade in my city. The Christmas Jeep parade is one of the goofier, but innocuous, things the people in my city do each year.

What started out as a handful of Jeep enthusiasts wrapping a few strings of lights around their cars and driving around town has turned into an ever more garish display of consumerism and car culture. Many of the vehicles participating in the parade this year – which aren’t all Jeeps anymore – had inflatable yard decorations strapped to the tops of their vehicles.

It’s all done in the spirit of Christmas and good cheer, so more power to ’em, even if I don’t understand the appeal of driving around for three hours burning gas at $4 a gallon. It’s a benign waste of resources, but it brings a smile to most faces, which is a welcome change after years of the weekly Trump parades we had to endure during the last election cycle.

So, instead of walking my usual route, I deviated to the parade route to see them go by. I ended up waiting an hour. When I got home after standing in the cold, shivering so badly I couldn’t control my arms, I discovered that I had been a mosquito buffet. It’s the middle of fucking December for fuck’s sake! Winter literally begins tomorrow. Why am I still fending off these little blood sucking bitches?

There’s no reprieve anymore. It’s just twelve months of bloodletting. Even the flowers are confused. It’s like California got a payday advance on springtime. How much will we owe next year?