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For the past 24 hours, the Weather Channel has been haranguing us about the Coming Storm.
Kinda like listening to non-stop Hitler Youth recruitment commercials.
Okay! Okay! I get it!
It’s gonna snow!
Polar bears will be wandering Times Square. Yetis will be joyriding the Empire State Building’s elevators.
Stay off the roads.
Remember that in the post-blizzard society, money will be useless. Toilet paper and canned peaches will be the only fungible currency (now that nobody smokes cigarettes anymore.)
“This could be a storm the likes of which we have never seen before,” Mayor Bill DiBlasio told New Yorkers.
Right. Well, the European Union could survive the recent elections in Greece. Monkeys could fly out of my ass. Etcetera.
My own theory is that the more we talk about the Coming Storm, the less likely it is that the Coming Storm will take place. Kinda like Buddhist prayer wheels, you know? So I talked about the Coming Storm non-stop yesterday, including to a very enthusiastic crowd of shoppers who were stocking up on canned peaches and frozen pizzas at the local supermarket. (Obviously, they won’t be able to eat the frozen pizzas when the power goes out. So I have to assume the frozen pizzas are being bought as potential assault weapons. You know – for when the bullets run out.)
So far, I’ve managed to talk the total snowfall down from 36 inches to 24 inches.
And I’m still talking!
Plus I'm scouring the Internet for Roasted Cat recipes since – sorry, Rutger – it’s obvious that in the post-Snowpocalypse society, pets will be a luxury item that we simply cannot afford (and there goes another $60 billion industry.)
Kinda like listening to non-stop Hitler Youth recruitment commercials.
Okay! Okay! I get it!
It’s gonna snow!
Polar bears will be wandering Times Square. Yetis will be joyriding the Empire State Building’s elevators.
Stay off the roads.
Remember that in the post-blizzard society, money will be useless. Toilet paper and canned peaches will be the only fungible currency (now that nobody smokes cigarettes anymore.)
“This could be a storm the likes of which we have never seen before,” Mayor Bill DiBlasio told New Yorkers.
Right. Well, the European Union could survive the recent elections in Greece. Monkeys could fly out of my ass. Etcetera.
My own theory is that the more we talk about the Coming Storm, the less likely it is that the Coming Storm will take place. Kinda like Buddhist prayer wheels, you know? So I talked about the Coming Storm non-stop yesterday, including to a very enthusiastic crowd of shoppers who were stocking up on canned peaches and frozen pizzas at the local supermarket. (Obviously, they won’t be able to eat the frozen pizzas when the power goes out. So I have to assume the frozen pizzas are being bought as potential assault weapons. You know – for when the bullets run out.)
So far, I’ve managed to talk the total snowfall down from 36 inches to 24 inches.
And I’m still talking!
Plus I'm scouring the Internet for Roasted Cat recipes since – sorry, Rutger – it’s obvious that in the post-Snowpocalypse society, pets will be a luxury item that we simply cannot afford (and there goes another $60 billion industry.)
