I’d rather walk outside and flash freeze before enduring another hour of watching weenies convince themselves that the next ten day period on the models will be different.
Let me go out like a man, standing frozen solid on my bare lawn with all the majesty of a Michelangelo epic, rather than cowering in a corner on a warm February night…computer light illuminating weenie tears, rocking back and forth hoping the euro moves our “favorable period” up in time.
No, let there be cold straight from the hollows of the Arctic. Let it sweep over my barren land and wash over me with the cleansing fire of capitulation.