IT'S STUPID GORGEOUS outside as I write this, but unless this is your first year in Portland, you know goddamn well this isn't going to last. Until July you only really get dalliances with dope weather. (Let's all try to say "dalliance" more this year. "Hey Ian, how come you missed your doctor appointment?" "Oh, I was having a dalliance with some malt liquor." BE MORE CHARMING. CHURCH UP YOUR LIFE.)

It can be super disheartening to have and then so quickly lose the beautiful weather, especially with the monotonous grayscale existence that we splosh through for such a significant stretch of the year. Well, dear reader, I'm here to remind you that when the weather is nice it isn't all peaches and cream, or Peaches and Herb, or Captain and Tennille, or whatever—there's some old bullshit that happens when the weather is nice, and while you're wringing a freak rain shower out of your denim jacket, remember, it ain't always better in sunny weather. I present, the worst things about sunny days in Portland:

Dudes with dandelion crowns—I saw this shit the other day and it made me so angry that I'm convinced my fury made it rain for a week. I get it, you're lying in some grass, taking in the sun, and within reach is a patch of dandelions and you fuck around with them 'cause lying in some grass is kind of boring. Fine. But don't fucking stroll through the Lloyd Center parking lot with that crown of intertwined dandelions like you're the Enlightened King of Expensive Denim Shirts. You're not. You're the worst. Your dandelion crown is the "Cool Story, Bro" T-shirt for people who talk about going to Burning Man. If you're going to wear a crown made out of things that grow out of the earth, I'm going to nail you to a cross.

How sweaty I get—None of us are stoked about it.

Longboards—"I want to skateboard, but I also want people to know how excited I am about Train's 'Hey, Soul Sister'..." DO I HAVE A PRODUCT FOR YOU?!

Shorts deniers—I see you, tight jeans all chopped up trying to get some air circulation on your ding-dong. You want to stay cool, but you also want to BE cool. You aren't the kind of person who would wear shorts, though. No, not you. You wear pants. Your pants are too hot, though, so you hack away at them until there's almost nothing left of the original. You turn Jefferson Airplane into Jefferson Starship, and you're building a city all right, but it isn't built on Rock 'n' Roll. YOU'RE BUILDING A CITY ON LIES. BUY SOME GODDAMN SHORTS.

Chinatown—I don't mean the crime. The crime is worth it on the off chance that some dude with a dandelion crown gets stabbed. I mean those beautiful weekend nights when you're meandering through downtown and then those clubs in Chinatown start barfing out clusters of supbros and woogirls into the streets, turning your pleasant evening into a circus of shouted Hangover quotes and abandoned high heels and dumb fights and "BRIT! OVER HERE, BRIT!"s and Jettas speeding toward red lights at 60 MPH.

I hope that helps. I know it really won't, but next time you're frowning out your window at the grim certainty of wet socks, have yourself a dalliance with some sour grapes. @IanKarmel