Meteorological Misfire

The Good & Plenty Gingerbread Strip Club after a snow storm

All day yesterday the local weather people were flauntin’ their meteorological prognostications, and claiming that a tsunami-like snow/ice storm was bearing down on Kentucky.  Now fast forward to this morning, when I awoke to more slush than you’d find at the local convenience store, and roads that were as clear as white mud…did I say mud?  I meant crud.  Mother Naturally, as I was walking in a non-winter wonderland on my way to work, these weather patterns got me to thinkin’ about some meterological-related rhetoric.

  • Is it possible to charge someone with filing a false weather report?
  • I am starting to believe there is some secret media conglomerate who’s conspiring with the local Milk & Bread Mafia.  You currently can’t find a 1/2 gallon or loaf anywhere in the surrounding “Local Channel 6 Made Up Weather/Phony News area”, and yet the roads are more slick-free than Fred Garvin, Male Meteorologist.
  • Like my wife and every politician in the US, meteorologists will never admit when they’re wrong either.  Just once I’d like to see a follow-up report where a repentant weatherperson stands in front of the camera and says something like, “I’m going to be honest.  You know those clouds I said were headed our way with a bunch of ice and snow?  It turns out that was just a really big flock of geese flying South for the winter.  My bad.”
  • I realize predicting the weather is not an exact science, even with all the science they have at their disposal, but how in the hell can they be this far off?  On my lunch break, I some chick in a bikini working on her tan.  The local outdoor public pool looks like Caddy Day from Caddyshack.  I heard the price of bottled water and A/C window units just went up.  In other words, this was “Lie Storm Ought Ten.”
  • Bing Crosby needs to get a script for Ambien so he won’t remember his dreams involving precipitation, and will quit beating us over the head with the fruits of his one-track mind.  What’s that?  He died in 1977, you say?

The label currently in front of me reads, “An assertively dry-hopped nose is followed by a bitter symphony of flavor.  Contains a bold hop character with lively grapefruit notes.  Pairings spicy heat, citrus, aged blue cheese.”  Oh, I thought I was drinking a beer.  Turns out I’m drinking a hop-based beverage that is apparently a lot more sophisticated than me.

This post was written by Joffrey Ignatius Simpson on December 16, 2010
Posted Under: WTF

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