Punxsutawney Phil? Wiarton Willie? They’re both gay, more so this year because the news isn't good and I’ve already had it with winter. I don’t need another six weeks of frigid weather or to lose another apendage to frostbite.
Yet, the world's most famous furry forecaster saw his shadow Wednesday on Gobbler's Knob, (see, anyone at a place called Gobbler's Knob would be branded as homosexual)
The chubby critter delivered the prediction after he was pulled from his burrow in an oak stump at 7:31 a.m. by a top-hatted handler, and his prediction was greeted by boos from the thousands in attendance. (No shit!)
I'm tired of all the groundhog Hoo-ha! every February 2nd. I'm just returning from my peaceful National Holiday and I have to listen to this. At least if we are going to put predictions in the hands of those who crawl on all fours, (and I'm not talking about Paris Hilton), then it should be something more significant like six more weeks til the world ends. We need a fowl beast that can foretell the future. I’m not talking about (Jo Jo’s Psychic Hotline here people) I’m talking about a mythical beast that hibernates in snowy climbs and is more elusive than Sasquatch or the dreaded Black Beast of Angbor. It is the Governor Arnold predictor of catastrophic foreshadowing. Of course, I'm talking about the Giant Ferret beast of Bugtussle, (Part ferret, part centipede). Run for the bomb shelters!
Actually I swiped this from http://dlak.blogspot.com/ to launch a new section on the day most refer to lovingly or with loathing as Hump-day. I called it Rip-off Wednesday and subsequently will be posting amusing pictures that I stumble upon when navigating the maze of the Blog sea. If you find your stuff here, please know that you are loved and imitation is the highest form of flattery.
Next week: The newest discovery on Mars. Don’t miss it.
No comments:
Post a Comment