The other day I was watching TV and the news announcer said “More misery is heading towards the Northeast”. And she was referring to me – Snow. This is getting really old, being some type of modern American boogie man. How did this happen? It never used to be this way.
Because here are the facts folks:
* People dream of a White Christmas. They don’t wish for a sand-yellow Christmas or a silver-ish rainy one. They want me.
* I am the ONLY thing you can make a fluffy ball out of to throw at cars and then laugh. Try making that ball out of rain. Or sand (yeah, I’ve got a thing going with sand, he’s so smothering.)
* I know I am beautiful.
* No kid in the history of the world has ever gotten excited about the arrival of rain. Never run out into the yard shouting with joy and trying to catch a drop on his tongue. Okay, maybe a Dustbowl kid, but that’s the exception.
* And it’s not all just fun-and-games. Every year I sit patiently in the mountains and just wait. And then wait some more. And then I slowly surrender, descend the hills, and water your crops. Rain doesn’t have the patience to stick around. Nooo, he just wants to get to the beach right away. And sand? He just kills.
* One more. What do people in China and Phoenix wear to combat sand-storms? That’s right, ski goggles designed to deflect ME. You’re welcome.
This is a long way of saying you should drop this “-pocalypse” bullshit from my name whenever I show up. You need me, not vice-versa, but I never complain about you. Right now me and my cohorts are having an East Coast-West Coast feud. It’s complicated (and stupid) but it’s why New England is getting hit big-time and California is parched. So you wanna talk “misery”? Head to LA next Christmas and try having a sandball fight with your kids.
Not sure how to proceed from here. Maybe I should open a Twitter account.
As they say in snowbiz, “The snow must go on!”
I’m sorry I hate you, snow.
But I still hate you.
I’ll be the first to follow that Twitter account!
@snowmoredisrespect