Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The Weather Outside is Anything But Frightful

I don't know what we got in exchange for San Francisco's weather, but the lack of snowfall is really starting to get to us. DCers really should ever only harbor modest snow hopes, but our current losing streak has been especilslly galling. We may not be much of a winter wonderland, but here in the metro area, we do have our own snowfall traditions that we hold near and dear that the local news is always certain to cover and share with us all. Here's what we've been missing out on:

The Parade of Self-Importance. Every snowfall, we hear from people all over the city who just HAD to go to work in the snow because what they do is sooooooo fricking important. That's pretty hilarious. I've met a LOT of people in Washington and I can count on one hand the number of you out there who really have "important" jobs. So, unless everyone out there went and became a transplant surgeon over their summer vacation, you're really hearing from a bunch of turds who want a medal for doing something commonplace. Maybe, in the mix, there's a few people who bought some trail-rated monster of an SUV and three inches of snow made it fucking GO TIME! But usually it's a bunch of self-deluded dorks who desperately want to believe that those file folders wont label themselves. Guess what? One day, those file folder will be able to do that, leaving you with the extra time to shovel my siewalk.

Sledding Children Bespeak Illusory Innocence. Awww. Would you check the B-reel of your nightly newscast? Look at all the youths from your neighborhood, frolicing in the snow. They've found a big hill and have taken their sleds and saucers and toboggans out for an afternoon of sliding and careening. Doesn't it just take you back to when you were a kid? Doesn't it remind you of a more innocent time? Doesn't it make you wish you could freeze this moment and never let go? It makes me wish your children would get lost in a snowdrift. Don't kid yourself, papa. Your kids suck mad stool. They sodomize each other behind the cafeteria dumpster, eat meth, throw rocks at people bicycling up the street, gang up on commuters and take their iPods. This snow is not for them, unless of course, it's filling their lungs.

Panic! At the Grocery Store. The news of an impending snow flurry sends area consumers into a full-blown Apocalypto frenzy of sudden need. Never has a civilization fallen for want of additional rolls of toilet paper, but, if there had to be a first, it would probably come here, where browneye cleanliness seems to require several more layers of infrastructure to plan for every possible contingency. Also: the milk. WTF is up with the milk? Within six minutes of the forecast, all the area grocers are devoid of milk. For many, this will be the only milk they'll buy all year, and, since, as mentioned above, civilization has this nagging tendency to not disintegrate with each snowfall, it's as likely as not that the milk will just sour on the shelf of the refrigerator.

Out-of-Towners More Uppity Than Usual. Gotta love it when you get local interviews with people from Boston and Minneapolis and Denver who'll tell you how much better their city is at dealing with the snow. Comment boards fill up with comments from auslanders who'll talk all kinds of snow game, but dontcha know they still seem to be the larger demographic in the grocery store panic? Sigh. Why can't such people be beaten with sticks. In the first place, it's GREAT you have 1,500 snowplows in your hometown. It snows once every four years here--if we spent the money your town spends on snow protection, we'd call our local officials crazy. Second, why is it that you live here if you love lousy ol' Boston or Denver or wherever better? Move back, assbag? But then you get their names and do some checking and you find out why Mr. DC Just Can't Survive in the Winter doesn't live there anymore--he's a registered sex offender, lamming it. This is basically always the case, so, keep your kids away from people who brag about snowplows--all they want to do is earn your respect so they can ball-gag your sons and daughters in their rec-room and play a game of Branding the Pony.

That Guy With The Cross Country Skis. It never fails. Anytime there's a big snowstorm, the newscameras never fail to find somebody who's maintained a pair of cross-country skis just for the once-every-Olympiad snowfall and is charging up the road, full of vigor and vim and a "can't keep ME down" attitude. God. What a right cunt that guy is.


Missy said...

This is really funny. And I've so been that uppity out of towner. I kind of hate me too.

rock_ninja said...

Being that uppity Midwesterner is all I have to look forward every winter. Smug certitude is all that keeps us warm during those long, cold months. Also, the white flakes of death are kinda pretty.