I dedicate this post to Michelle. Because wouldn’t life be nice if all we did for work was make 50/50 guesses?
I’m going to go on an adventure. A sweet one. And i’d like to know what kind of weather i should pack for. Is it going to be cold? Is it going to be wet? I don’t know. let me check the weather and find out. Oh, it’s going to be a high of 109 with a 0% chance of precipitation. I pack appropriately. I go on my adventure. I get rained on. I get soaked. I get snowed on. I get hypothermia. I die.
*End of Scenario*
Who’s to blame?
Now, i’m usually not one to cast the first stone, but that’s only because i can’t throw very well so i wait until everyone else is involved in the stoning before i haphazardly hurl the smallest rock i can find, hoping to hit the stonee, but usually i end up hitting a stoner instead. And since i’m on a streak of telling the truth, i must say that hitting a stoner with a rock is equally as fulfilling.
Anyway, what i’m getting at is i would be the first cast the stone, if i thought it’s what would be best.
So in the interest of this post, i will be casting the first stone. . . . . . watch out. . . . . . .
I’m going to go out on a big ponderosa limb and say that weatherman (and woman. . . probably mostly women) are to blame. Do you know who else is to blame? The nazis. . . . and obama.
Anyway, I really don’t get it. Weathermen (and women), whose sole job is to predict one thing, the weather, can never get it right. What the french? I mean, they don’t even have to be really precise and people are satisfied (even though we shouldn’t be).
I’m not asking them to forecast temperatures and rain down to the 3rd decimal. That would be a bit much. All i ask is that they get it close to what it would be if i stuck my head out the window and looked up. Instead we get these random predictions that in no way resemble what is actually going on. Effing weather people. You make me sick. You and your bad hair.
You drive around in your fancy cars and you drink your hot coffee and you make crappy predictions and think you’re so cool because you have the easiest job on the planet. Well, i have news for you. Everybody hates you.
OK, the truth is, i’m just jealous. I wish my job could be based on 50/50 guesses instead of actual work. And i use the words “actual work” in a very loose sense. A very. loose. sense.