You know that one chick? The one who always talks about how much she drinks and how hard she parties and how many dudes she’s slept with and how many pots she’s smokened and then you finally go out with her to party and she orders an Amaretto sour and some guy hits on her and she tells you that he’s “yucky” because he has “cigarette breath”? And the whole time you’re thinking What the fuck? I will never take you seriously again. And then the next day she’s all like “Wow, I had so much fun last night! That was crazy!” And you’re like Hey, stupid bitch, how ’bout ya never talk again?
You know what I’m talking about?
Yeah, we’re totally That Chick tonight.
Because for all our preparing and National Guard deploying and Emergency-comma-State-Of declaring – we get this: a few inches of freezing rain (still, unfun, to be sure). No power outages. No 18 foot snow drifts. Sure, a lot of shit’s closed down and a salt truck got drunk and fell over or something. But really, National Weather Service? How ’bout ya think real hard next time you open your big fat trap?
Talk about a let down.*
*Okay, okay. I know there are places not too far from my teeny little corner of suburbia that got some actual snow and some actual problems. And I’ve got several friends in other states with no power and still others experiencing massive snowdrifts blocking key exits of their domicile. But those places aren’t here, and I am not impressed.
Amen!
I feel ripped off.