Thursday, January 27, 2011

An Open Letter to Old Man Winter

Dear OMW:

Yeah, you. Pry those bony icicles you call fingers off the remote control and come talk to me for a minute. What did we do to deserve all this? Did someone insult you? Did someone say "Hey look at Old Man Winter, he hasn't even caused an ice age in 20,000 years! He's soooo lame!" and hurt your feelings? If so, I apologize. Apparently they didn't know what kind of cold-hearted elfin bastard they were messing with. But I know this - while you're hanging around in your bathrobe, picking ice crystals out of your beard, and watching Maury Povich, some us have a little place to get to called work. I mean, fine, you're pissed at us. I get that. Wave your little wand, say your little rhymes, and make it snow if you really need to prove your worth. But could you at least cool it during rush hour? You are literally killing us here. We are crashing our cars and sitting through three hour commutes just to avoid wasting another vacation day. So please, just go take a shower, have a cup of coffee, and relax. It's only January for Christ sake, ever hear of pacing yourself?

And now, on top of everything that we've been through, you decide to crank out below zero temperatures? Are you kidding me, Old Man? Did that meteorologist from Channel 7 slip you a fifty so he could have a severe weather alert to rant and rave about on Sunday night? Hey, when Old Man Winter's such an easy sellout, why not pay him a visit? Everyone knows he left all his morals back in the Blizzard of '78. I hope you're real proud of yourself.

I'll leave you with this one piece of advice - if you don't cut it out soon, Karma is going to be a real bitch. You may be big, tough, Old Man Winter now, but before you know it you'll be locked up in the nursing home playing Bingo all day with Father Time. And when you see him, would you do me a favor? Tell him I said thanks a lot for Daylight Savings.

Jerks.