Let’s see, Bill Cosby is an accused sex offender, famed murderer Charles Manson is marrying a girl who’s less than one-third his age, and President Obama is taking a hard stance on immigration reform.
But who has time to think about all of that when IT’S GOD DAMN FREEZING OUTSIDE.
The one good thing about the cold is that it serves as a distraction. We don’t even have the mental capacity to think about anything else that might be bothering us, because all of our attention is focused towards not being freezing.
It’s so cold that you wonder why any one would ever even think about going outside. And when you do see somebody braving the outdoors, you stare at them as if they’re insane. A few hours ago, I saw a group of girls actually running outside. All I wanted to do was roll down my window and throw hot chocolate at them.
At least some parts of all 50 states have experienced freezing temperatures below 32 degrees in the last two days. But central and western New York is getting the worst of it, most specifically southern Buffalo, where seven people have died.
Up to six feet of snow in some areas has blockaded people in their homes and engorged vehicles, all because of a lake effect.
Wait, a what? That sounds like a crossover of a Sandra Bullock and Ashton Kutcher movie.
I’m pretty sure meteorologists are just making shit up at this point. Last year it was an arctic blast, and now it’s a lake effect. I mean, they’re wrong half the time anyway, so they might as well create scientific names just to make themselves sound smart.
Next winter, get ready for the tectonic skullfreeze, or a zooming frostswell.
And because human beings have totally screwed up our weather systems, of course the forecasts call for 50 degree temperatures by this weekend. If that doesn’t provide bait to all the people who jump at every opportunity to cry climate change, than I don’t know what will.
If I’m being perfectly honest though, I don’t hate this cold. I mean, I don’t love it, but I can more than tolerate it. First of all, bundling up is comfortable. I enjoy wearing sweatshirts and heavy coats.
Skullcaps? Hell yeah, bitches.
Also, I can drink as much hot coffee and Swiss Miss as I want without being judged.
And the best part? This isn’t the 1840s, where we’re all living on the frontier and literally trying to survive the winter. Once you’re home, you can throw on some sweatpants, cover yourself in a heavy blanket, curl up in front of the television and remain in the same exact position for seven hours. Basically, we become a cat.
And that sounds purrfect to me.