I'll have the prime rib, please

I'm beginning to get really tired of winter. (I actually bitched to Lisa about this just yesterday, so my apologies to her for being my practice board for this post.) I hate all my hats because the top of my head needs to breathe; I can't stand my scarves, because they're just choking me now; I want to throw all my sweaters into the ocean, and watch them be washed away; I'm tired of wearing large, clunky shoes with good tread so I don't fall and break my ass again; I hate that my windows can't be open because when they are, we freeze; I don't like driving with the heater on; I am totally against sitting inside for lunch when the sun's out because it's still only 34 degrees. When, oh when, will the warm days return?
Here's a picture of the coyote that they caught in Central Park the other day. He looks happy to have led the animal control officers on a merry chase, doesn't he? They'll be releasing him into the wild in upstate New York, and hoping that he doesn't find his way back to Manhattan any time soon. "Dudes! But I LOVE eating at Tavern on the Green!"