I must have been crazy.
Snow every two or three goddamn days from the MIDDLE OF JANUARY until APRIL FUCKING FOOL'S DAY.
Walked outside this morning. Twelve degrees, warm breeze blowing.
Spring? In the air.
Winter? In the ground. Cold and dead.
So, on the way home from yet another successful WingNite™, what did I spy with my little eye? And my face? And any other exposed skin?
Snow. Blown at 52 km/h, gusting to 71 km/h (according to Environment Canada).
That's it, Winter. I've stuck up for you a lot of times the past few months, with lines like the following:
- "Hey, c'mon, it's Canada and it's January. It's gonna be a little nippy."
- "Hey, c'mon, it's Canada and it's February. What, you too much of a fag to shovel a little snow?"
- "Hey, c'mon, it's Canada and it's March. Quit acting like you've never lost four fingertips to frostbite."
I swear to Don Knotts, if it snows on Saturday, I'm gonna ram some airplanes into some large buildings.