Winter Blues

Winter is a notoriously bad season for me, whether it's a case of the SAD or just nature's way of telling me to hibernate. I despise the bitter chill in the air and I resent the sun for spending more time in the other half of the world; however, New Zealand has gone above and beyond to fan my burning hatred of winter into a raging, destructive wild fire.

Firstly, they celebrate mid-winter Christmas. Santa, this is an outrage! You are clearly contracted to give presents to every good boy and girl in the world on one day a year, not two. A snarky “Ho ho ho” better have been the only sound from your lips when Kiwi's came up such an obscene request. True, they don't have Santa's parading the streets, forcing small hysterical children on to their laps or tacky decorations or gigantic pushy BUY ME NOW sales or any of the irritating hooha associated with the holiday's, but come on, embrace the fact you are outside in the summer sun barbequing and camping at the beach during Christmas.

Secondly, denying the fact that the winter is cold will not keep you warm. Excluding very new houses, most Kiwi homes have no discernible insulation. Not even in the South Island, I am told, where it gets very, very cold. They are also largely without central heating or double-paned windows. Instead, condensation collects like rainwater atop window sills and scary flammable space heaters are scattered throughout common areas. This poses a whole new set of problems, of which North and South magazine claim kill more people here than in Siberia. Also, fireplaces and space heaters in lieu of proper insulation directly contradict the Kiwi's haughty belief that they are “eco-friendly” and better than the rest of us.

Lastly, I would like to emphasize the fact that it is retarded to get ice off your windshield with water from a garden hose and amazingly silly to wear tiny shorts (this applies to both men and women) when the wind chill renders the air a frosty thirty degrees.

-photos stolen from the pranksters pictured