You need to read that in the camel's voice. You know what camel I'm talking about.
Okay, so ever since I have lived in North Carolina, I have wanted a DECENT snowfall. I have appealed to all possible gods, I have written threatening letters to the weathermen (I was NINE! DON'T JUDGE ME!), I have tried to reason with Mama Nature herself.
Nothing. Maybe an inch or two at the most.
The year I have decided to leave this snowless wonderland, Mama Nature then decides that she wants to set things right.
As I type, the entire Southern portion of these United States is bracing itself for a MAJOR snowstorm. My area is looking at eight to ten inches.
Well played, Mama Nature. Well freaking played.
So now, we're looking forward to a bunch of "angel poop" (my cousin's description of the frozen precipitation) tomorrow. Schools are closed. Grocery stores have been wiped clean.
Snowmageddon has begun.
I don't know if I'm going to make it. I may queue up some posts in the event of my untimely demise in the wintery hell that's set for us tomorrow. Kind of like PS I Love You, but instead of love letters, you'll get a few snarky posts and a tearful goodbye to my online community.
Unless I forget. Then this would be the last post. In which I utter these last words:
Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak.
Okay, so ever since I have lived in North Carolina, I have wanted a DECENT snowfall. I have appealed to all possible gods, I have written threatening letters to the weathermen (I was NINE! DON'T JUDGE ME!), I have tried to reason with Mama Nature herself.
Nothing. Maybe an inch or two at the most.
The year I have decided to leave this snowless wonderland, Mama Nature then decides that she wants to set things right.
As I type, the entire Southern portion of these United States is bracing itself for a MAJOR snowstorm. My area is looking at eight to ten inches.
Well played, Mama Nature. Well freaking played.
So now, we're looking forward to a bunch of "angel poop" (my cousin's description of the frozen precipitation) tomorrow. Schools are closed. Grocery stores have been wiped clean.
Snowmageddon has begun.
I don't know if I'm going to make it. I may queue up some posts in the event of my untimely demise in the wintery hell that's set for us tomorrow. Kind of like PS I Love You, but instead of love letters, you'll get a few snarky posts and a tearful goodbye to my online community.
Unless I forget. Then this would be the last post. In which I utter these last words:
Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak.
