The Weather Outside is Frightful...
One more person.
One more.
Just one more giggling moron comes up to me whistling a merry tune, rosy cheeked and jolly, and i'm gonna knock them down, lay them out, and back up over their head 'til it's the consistency of olive spread.
It is not that I have disdain for the holiday spirit, but being a sufferer of S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder) combined with a form not fit for cold climes as well as a spate of old, creaking injuries... and, well, you see where this is going.
Something must be done to ban winter. Well, i could crack wise about the sodding global warming being tardy, but i will not, as those types of gags are about as funny as a bagful of crippled orphans slung from a tree and thwacked with a pinata baton. I think it would be more helpful for our doctors to prescribe, and have the government pay from the health coffers, a 4-month journey to warmer climes for us sufferers. Pity us.
So, since a ban on weather would be about as realistic as victory in IRAQ, I suggest a different approach.
Hence, the Turks and Caicos Iles. Up until now, they have been begging to join our confederacy to take advantage of our social welfare system and such other uneffective, bloated social programs. I say, let them... in fact, force them! What the hey-ho is all the wait and bother!? My bags are packed, my pasty skin all a-flutter for the day, the sweet, beautiful day, I may frolic amongst the waves in such tropical bliss... Instead of pissing my name in a snowbank for 6 solid months of guelling, dark and unrelenting ice and misery. Hop to, get that accord signed and ratified.
Until then, i'll go dig out my car, if i can find it under the snowdrifts. Fortunately, the last reveller i came across will not begin to decay in my trunk until spring thaw. By then, perhaps, my mood will turn.
One more.
Just one more giggling moron comes up to me whistling a merry tune, rosy cheeked and jolly, and i'm gonna knock them down, lay them out, and back up over their head 'til it's the consistency of olive spread.
It is not that I have disdain for the holiday spirit, but being a sufferer of S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder) combined with a form not fit for cold climes as well as a spate of old, creaking injuries... and, well, you see where this is going.
Something must be done to ban winter. Well, i could crack wise about the sodding global warming being tardy, but i will not, as those types of gags are about as funny as a bagful of crippled orphans slung from a tree and thwacked with a pinata baton. I think it would be more helpful for our doctors to prescribe, and have the government pay from the health coffers, a 4-month journey to warmer climes for us sufferers. Pity us.
So, since a ban on weather would be about as realistic as victory in IRAQ, I suggest a different approach.
Hence, the Turks and Caicos Iles. Up until now, they have been begging to join our confederacy to take advantage of our social welfare system and such other uneffective, bloated social programs. I say, let them... in fact, force them! What the hey-ho is all the wait and bother!? My bags are packed, my pasty skin all a-flutter for the day, the sweet, beautiful day, I may frolic amongst the waves in such tropical bliss... Instead of pissing my name in a snowbank for 6 solid months of guelling, dark and unrelenting ice and misery. Hop to, get that accord signed and ratified.
Until then, i'll go dig out my car, if i can find it under the snowdrifts. Fortunately, the last reveller i came across will not begin to decay in my trunk until spring thaw. By then, perhaps, my mood will turn.
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