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By: colortheworld , 6:35 AM GMT on February 08, 2013
Disclaimer: It's all in fun.
I am a snowbird. A 27-year-old grown baby who loves watching it snow (Because the concept of a ton of white crap just falling from the earth and piling up on the ground like a bunch of garbage is funny to me. Why? I don't know. I don't like garbage piling up everywhere. Water piling up is a big problem of mine, so why this stuff? Who knows. Anyway.) to the point where people slip and fall and twist their legs as if they were Robert Griffin III playing twister. All my life I've been infatuated with snow, the more the better. It's like the mania of obsession where one is good, but fifty is better. I live in central Pennsylvania where snowfall tends to occur on average, about nine times a century. Okay, it's not that bad, but maybe 10? Anyway As I write this it's 12:43 AM on February 8th, 2013 and I'm watching another monster storm develop. Hang on...
*Takes bite of corn pops. Bleh. The thought of eating corn pops is actually much better than the physical act of eating corn pops. I tell myself this every time I eat them, yet I continue to buy them. I think this is what smokers go through...*
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, "Nemo"; the next-in-line winter storm on the east coast as named by the wonderful public relations department at The Weather Channel. This storm appears to be the convergence of two low pressure systems, a "clipper" system in the midwest and a low pressure system in the southern part of the Mid-Atlantic. They'll likely hook up as all low pressure systems with compatability tend to do (as if there's some low pressure system online dating site. Hmm. Maybe I should try it? "Hi, I'm a 27-year-old low pressure system who likes hardcore music and the Philadelphia Flyers. I'm into dark comedy and... why am I wasting my time on this?") and together, they form a super-group. Like "Wings". Just not terrible. Together, as a solidified unit, the storm will dump a ton of snow, rain and bring some coastal flooding and wind to the general vacinity of the Northeast and New England which is okay if you're in New England.
I'm not. I'm in Pennsylvania.
So I HATE THIS STORM!
Actually, I don't "hate" this storm. I don't "hate" anything. Well, that's not true; I hate designer jeans, most "modern art" and the over-commercialization of professional football, but that's neither here nor there. I hate that this storm isn't necessarily for me. I hate that I'm, at the most, going to have to put up with a "nuisance" while less-deserving people (for several reasons; 1) I'm awesome and you're not and 2)uhhh... let me get back to you?) have to potentially deal with their houses caving in and losing power and dying in their cars and freezing to death. I hate that this isn't me. I guess when it all comes down to it, I'm jealous of this storm. Why is this Boston's storm? Why does Boston and New York and Portland and Worcester and Bangor and Halifax and Providence and Nantucket and Quahog... oh wait, that place don't exist, get all the good storms, WHY CAN'T I GET ONE?
Oh, February 2010 gave me 2 historic storms in a matter of 6 days? LALALALALALALLALALALALALALA
Getting back on point: Some weather models are showing that parts of Massachusetts (more like "Ass-achusetts, amirite?) could receive 30+ inches of snow under blizzard conditions. Since we're far beyond the point of embracing the horror that I may only see 2 inches IMBY, I guess it's time to take this to the dark part of my brain. The part that thinks of things like the thought that George Washington, the father of our great country, in hell. Yeah, I said it. George Washington went to hell. HELL. That part of my brain. What can you imagine a storm like this doing?
1. A storm of this magnitude may very well have enough surge within the ocean to rise the Andrea Gail, a sword-boat lost-at-sea during the infamous "Perfect Storm" back in the 1990s, a time in which nobody was alive. Seriously, dinosaurs went extinct sometime around the y2k scare, who can honestly lie and say they were around in 1993? What a horrible person you are. Imagine the ship sailing once again and there's Mark Wahlberg, long hair and all. He's thinking about Diane Lane and her backside, and she's been dead for 300 years at this point. Who gets to be the poor schmuck who tells Wahlberg that, well, as Pink said "It's just you and your hand tonight."? Whomever that is, that person should have like, I don't know, committed an atrocity on-par with the DC sniper. Or the re-election of Bara... don't get political. Like, seriously, I'd rather spend 25 minutes in a cage with Anderson Silva with no pads or arms or legs to defend myself with than be that person. That person's life... SUCKS.
2. Good God, Corn Pops blow. You ever notice how they get really soggy in the milk and you go to eat it and it's just this... mush? A fate far worse than death.
3. Imagine about 20,000 Bostonians standing around in the cold and snow during this event? I mean, people from Boston are generally stupid, like all-pro stupid. Like, somewhere between "not knowing you're brushing your hair with a comb full of crap and being a weather service and naming winter storms" stupid. They're standing around and the wind and cold is making their teeth chatter. I think it eliminates the horrible accent and lack of overall English-speaking-ability. Even worse, they sound like Noo Yorkors; "Ayyyyy I'm frum Noo Yollllk! Watch me flip off this inanimate object because it looked at my motha, BADA-BING!". The only good to come from this is the cold would likely do away with around 16,000 Bostonians, doing the world a huge solid. The remaining 4,000? TOO DAMN STUPID TO DIE!
4. Okay, the thought just popped in my head, and you know what? The hell with it: Can you imagine Paul Revere trying to make a ride in this storm? The snow's up to his stupid horse's stomach (Because he was too stupid to get a regular horse, he's riding a pony. And only because there were no German Shepards to rent.) And the horse is hopping and over-exerting itself all-the-while thinking it's a fancy horse because it's hopping. After about an hour and only a half-mile traveled, the horse craps out and Revere is screwed. There are no lights, and to this day, people in New England are speaking a different and even worse version of the language they're trying to speak on a daily basis. Actually, this may have been the best-case scenario?
5. Wind and snow force the total and awesome collapse of the "Big Green Monster" at Fenway Park. The stupid Citgo sign falls as a sign of the upcoming death of Hugo Chavez. He's on my death pool this year, by-the-way.
Anyways, I think 5 ideas is enough for now. The point I'm trying to make here is that these people are less-than-deserving for something this epic, or even great at all and while I'm sitting here feeling hosed about missing another "EXTREME DEATH STORM" that prompts 24-hour coverage and the horrifying tone of FOX NEWS ALOIT!, some people are actually going to do something about their misery, and lose it. Lose it in the precious flakes of snow that fall from the sky, some the size of my fingertip, some the size of a quarter, all great and special and not like the others that fall before or with it. These people are going to spend the next 3 days pulling muscles and having heart attacks dealing with what I wish I were getting. Their houses are going to be ruined and some people are going to be stranded along Interstate 95 and some may even die, but they're doing it. Doing it for all the right reasons. All in the name of snow.
Lucky them... I hope they get rain.
In all things obsurd, I leave you. And to the sink, I leave the corn pops...
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