Sonnet #18 - A critique

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
You're humid, sweaty and smell of traffic fumes.
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
You're lovelier than a day, but neither hot nor cold particularly.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
'Rough winds'...have you farted? (the trees are shaking).
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
The rent on my beach hut is up for renewal soon.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
The sun sometimes makes me sweaty too,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
Although it's often cloudy;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
In fact it's bound to cloud over sooner or later
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
Because that's just what happens;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Something tells me you'll still be sweaty even in winter.
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
And you're not about to lose those hefty debts,
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
You can't rely on death to bail you out,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
In fact it looks like you might last forever,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
I'm holding my nose and my eyes are streaming,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
If I drink enough beer perhaps you'll become bearable.