![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Dear Seattle,
Is this your weather?
I ask because from the look of things, you appear to have ours. At least, according to what I see here:
While I'm loathe to admit that somehow our weather snuck into your house, replaced your weather, and is now eating all your heating oil and natural gas, honesty compels me to admit that, yes, you appear to have our weather. Normally I wouldn't say anything, because your problems are so not our problems. I mean, it's not like we're our weather's keeper or anything like that.
Besides, have you seen our weather? Oh, wait. Apparently you have. So I don't have to tell you. Controlling our weather is a lot like trying to control a 6'6" meth-head armed with a machete and in search of bubblegum at 2 a.m. in a town where even the Store 24 closes at midnight.
I think you can see why we wouldn't be all that eager to take him back, no?
However, your weather is kinda depressing. Okay, not just kinda. More like very. And people keep getting sick. Our bodies can't take it, you see. The thing is, 52° F at the end of November is simply inhuman. People are being felled by all kinds of bronchial and gastrointestinal viruses and bacteria.
I am forced to conclude that we probably need to trade weather.
You can take back the relentlessly grey, icky, rainy, depressing, terrifyingly warm weather, and we'll take the Montreal Express.
Then everyone can be miserable with their own winter weather.
Besides, I already have a million jokes for my winter weather. I think it's really beyond the pale that I now have to write a whole bunch of new jokes for your winter weather.
Loves and Kisses to My Seattle Paisanos,
Moi
 | |
 | |
I ask because from the look of things, you appear to have ours. At least, according to what I see here:
 | |
 | |
While I'm loathe to admit that somehow our weather snuck into your house, replaced your weather, and is now eating all your heating oil and natural gas, honesty compels me to admit that, yes, you appear to have our weather. Normally I wouldn't say anything, because your problems are so not our problems. I mean, it's not like we're our weather's keeper or anything like that.
Besides, have you seen our weather? Oh, wait. Apparently you have. So I don't have to tell you. Controlling our weather is a lot like trying to control a 6'6" meth-head armed with a machete and in search of bubblegum at 2 a.m. in a town where even the Store 24 closes at midnight.
I think you can see why we wouldn't be all that eager to take him back, no?
However, your weather is kinda depressing. Okay, not just kinda. More like very. And people keep getting sick. Our bodies can't take it, you see. The thing is, 52° F at the end of November is simply inhuman. People are being felled by all kinds of bronchial and gastrointestinal viruses and bacteria.
I am forced to conclude that we probably need to trade weather.
You can take back the relentlessly grey, icky, rainy, depressing, terrifyingly warm weather, and we'll take the Montreal Express.
Then everyone can be miserable with their own winter weather.
Besides, I already have a million jokes for my winter weather. I think it's really beyond the pale that I now have to write a whole bunch of new jokes for your winter weather.
Loves and Kisses to My Seattle Paisanos,
Moi
no subject
The abrupt weather change always makes me sick and I can tell that I'm starting to get a sore throat today.
LMZ