COUNTERPOINT: Spring is the worst season ever.

There are many reasons why spring is the worst season ever. Paul Simon tends to release new albums in spring. Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in spring. Jennifer Lopez’ 2005 romantic comedy Monster-in-Law was released in spring. There are so many things to hate about spring, but what I hate most, and what makes spring the worst season ever, are my allergies.

How bad are my allergies? They are so bad that every year I contemplate taking out a full-page ad in the Minneapolis Star Tribune to send a personal message to the makers of Target-brand tissue paper. That message: You’re welcome, motherfuckers! By my calculations I account for about a quarter of your overall revenue between mid-April and mid-June. My allergies are so bad that the comforter on my bed becomes unnecessary because I usually wake up blanketed under a warm, gooey shell of used Target-brand tissue paper.

So, Mr. Target-Executive-In-Charge-Of-Making-Money-Off-Tissue-Paper, the next time you’re out cruising around in your limousine with Burt Reynolds celebrating your record profits remember to take a moment to thank me and my horrible, horrible allergies. Fuck you, allergies. And spring, you can eat rancid donkey shit and die.

About the Author: Dominick Washington lives in Chicago, but he’s from Sioux Falls, SD. That’s right, Sioux Falls, SD. He does not like people. You especially. After meeting Dominick for the first time most people come away thinking, “Wow. That guy is a real dick. I mean, seriously, how can someone hate so many things so intensely?” If you want to follow him on Twitter, just do it already. Dominick doesn’t have time for your hemming and hawing.

COUNTER COUNTERPOINT: You Know What, Spring is Really Kind of Aiiiiiiight

I’d be lying if I said spring was my favorite season. Shorts are awkward, April legs are pasty, and yes: allergies. I also hate the hay-fever feeling that makes me want to scoop out my eyeballs and dunk them in a glass of water. But you know what I say to allergies? Sudafed.

Then I sit back and enjoy the things that make spring a fun, and at the very least unique, three months:

1. Daffodils. Tulips are great, but daffodils? Slightly better. More personality. They’re the first color you see in the year, and they have bright, bursting petals that make them look like goofy little flower-lions. If I were to join a band with any flower, I would want to do so with Daffodils.
2. Summer plans. Remembering that life will not always be a trek through needling wind, we start planning for the Best Summer Ever!!!. We look for free concerts in the park; we brave our first, chilly, al fresco cocktails (maybe accompanied by an ambitious though premature grill-out); we go to the first baseball games of the season. Being outside is less something to bear, but an activity to enjoy—provided you’ve taken aforementioned Sudafed.
3. Fucking. Biology is bigger than all of us, and springtime, no matter who you are, awakens that basic and glorious motivation for most things we do: At the end of the day (or at the beginning—I don’t know your life), we want to pull close the body next to us
   and fuck the shit out of it. And springtime affection is different from any other time of the year. It’s exploratory, it’s fresh, it’s invigorating. And it can include high-fives to your partner to celebrate another winter survived.

So sure, spring isn’t the best season, but it’s still pretty damn good. For anyone having trouble with it, I recommend a toolkit of Sudafed, brand-name tissue (you deserve it!), and daffodils, which you can bring to that special someone. They may be moved to demonstrate their gratitude with a traditional springtime gesture.

About the author: Terry Selucky is a professional gambler (aka grantwriter), playwright, and a frequent contributor to Comedy Central's Webby Award-winning Indecision blog. Her favorite projects include writing and producing with The Serious Theatre Collective, curating a graphic novel section for Opium magazine, and touching, smelling, and tasting. She is excited to be included in this shiny new thing, Clothesline Productions.

When Clothes Become Friends

There is this thing that happens to a person who lives in a part of the world with four distinct seasons. You become attached to your clothes according to weather patterns—clothes for winter and clothes for summer and those few clothes for the times in between when you aren’t exactly sure how to dress.

At the sign of the first frost, you dig out your sweaters and pants made from weighty cotton, and they are all like old friends. “Hey, I remember you, you sage-green poncho thing that fits me like a welcomed blanket.” You shove the light-weight stuff to the back of the closet and make room for the winter stuff, the heavy stuff, the comfort clothes.

But your affection for these clothes turns on a dime, like your affection for your favorite food that you eat too much of and suddenly can’t stomach for one more meal, and you can’t wait for warmer weather so you can bring out the short-sleeved shirts and your favorite summer pants, those flowy linen ones with big pockets. And as for that sage-green poncho thing, you begin to see it with objective eyes, and you realize it doesn’t fit you like a welcomed blanket. It fits you like your grandmother’s nubby old cardigan with linty mints in the pocket, and you’d just as soon burn it as stow it away for another season.

And that’s when you know it’s spring. Time to hang up the coat. Time to dig under the bed for your sandals. Time to dust off those flowy linen pants you love so much. And time to shed the ill-fitting sweaters, no matter the comfort they brought you on chilly days. They’ll be waiting for you come October, about the time you discover you’ve come to hate those linen pants and wish you could incinerate them and their big pockets.

"I seriously hate writing bios for myself, so let's just say something like I'm a freelance writer with a small-town-newspaper audience and an amateur French horn player and that nothing I enjoy doing ever earns me any money. Or just leave out the money part. Whatever you want."

Spring Cleaning Your Computer

I'm going to hold your hand while we take baby steps to fix that inoperable mess that you are too dumb to have any business using.

First of all, let's get a couple things straight. You should definitely buy an iPad. I understand that you are far too busy and important to be bothered with learning anything at all and would much rather hopelessly stumble around in a pool filled with your own ignorance rather than take 30 seconds out of your hectic life to spend maintaining that $400 piece of crap you bought seven years ago and somehow expect to perform what you can only hypothesize is some form of voodoo that ultimately results in YouTube videos of ticklish penguins or cats playing on treadmills. So, by all means, please go purchase one of these magical iPads and don't bother your pretty little face with the most miniscule amounts of knowledge required for modern PC maintenance.

The Seasons

Theo doesn't live in Chicago anymore. It took countless below freezing days in a stupid thermal jacket to convince him to pack his bags. People told Theo he was crazy, to leave Chicago without a place to go or a job to support himself.

They told him, “Why would you leave the city in spring? Summer is coming and it will make the months of darkness worth it.” But Theo doesn't really like Chicago summers either. So Theo went to the Amtrak station and scanned the list of cities for one that sounded warm. He bought a cup of hot chocolate and a bag of peanuts and finished them in the lobby while he waited for his train.
He smiled at a woman with a little boy asleep in her lap. She hung her feet over a large suitcase and jiggled one foot in the air. She was heading somewhere. And so was Theo.

Have You Seen Me Wearing My Jean Shorts?

They are looking really good.  I’m not typically one to brag, but now that it’s warm outside, I have been wearing them nonstop.  I must admit, I do look very handsome.  This really is the best time of the year to wear my jean shorts, too.  I think they look best when the contrast between my legs and the denim is at its greatest.  Let me tell you, these legs haven’t seen sunlight since September!

I love the changing of the seasons because it really expands my wardrobe. Technically, my jean shorts are deemed inappropriate by my office dress code, but I think exceptions can be made when you look this good in a particular piece of clothing.  I can tell they have caught my boss’ eye too, because I always catch him staring at them.  Maybe I’ll bring him a pair.  You can get pretty hot while computer programming, and a pair of short pants just makes good sense.