S Tier:

April: I like rain, and April is rainy. Also, winter is over, which means I can go outside without wearing more layers than an onion. Thus, S Tier.

May: Pleasant, agreeable, and non-threatening: May is the Mister Rogers of months. Enough said.

September: Kind of like an inverse, bizarro-world April, minus the rain. So I guess it’s not that much like April. Still, it’s cool without being cold, and everything in nature hasn’t started dying yet.

A Tier:

June: A great time for vacations, camping, and being hunted for sport in the Canadian wilderness by a cabal of reclusive billionaires.

July: Whatever your opinions on Caeser, you have to admit it’s an all-time flex to name a month after yourself. Sure, Augustus did it too, but, much like Ray J, our boy Julius hit it first. Also, we’ve got the 4^th of July this month – and, like any Real American, I fuckin’ love fireworks. That’s why I’m typing this with seven fingers and half a thumb.

B Tier:

August: I’m on record as enjoying summertime, but the humidity in August makes it feel like you’re constantly getting squeezed by a gigantic wet fist. Best enjoyed from an air-conditioned lair, but enjoyable nonetheless.

December: The cold weather is effectively counterbalanced by holiday-related festivities. It was pretty considerate of those major religions to line their holidays up like that. Loses points because the Elf on the Shelf is an abomination.

C Tier:

October: Frankly, October only made the “C” tier because of Halloween – even if you’re too old to get drunk and dress up as a slutty Abraham Lincoln, it’s a great excuse to binge-watch horror movies with friends. (I guess Halloween is fun for kids, too, but who asked them?)

March: March is the kind of month that brings its lunch pail to work at the iron-smelting factory. Workmanlike, straightforward, and extremely blustery. Bonus points for being a great time to lose money on sports betting.

D Tier:

January: Saved from the “F” tier solely by virtue of the fact that it’s amusing to watch everyone, including myself, fail their New Years’ resolutions. Schadenfreude at its finest. Otherwise, it’s colder than a snowman’s taint and the days are shorter than Verne Troyer (RIP).

November: I mean, I like orange and yellow as much as the next person, but I never really got the love some people have for the Fall. It’s colorful because all that shit is dying, man! That’s dark! Furthermore, I’ve never been particularly enamored with Thanksgiving; if the best thing about your holiday is wet croutons shoved up a bird’s ass, I’m not going to be singing its praises from the rooftops. As an aside, imagine how mad the other Native Americans were with Squanto when he got back. Like, “You did what with the fucking corn?”

F Tier:

February: Man, fuck this month. At least it’s only 28 days of cold, shitty misery…and an entire holiday dedicated to bullying a rodent. Worst month of the year, no question.