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Archive for the ‘Weather’ Category

Yesterday, some writer for the L.A. Times–a woman who actually lives here in Seattle–wrote an article calling us “wimps” and “clueless” when it comes to winter weather.  I’m sure the woman who wrote the article has been trapped in her own Seattle home, terrified to get into her Cadillac Escalade with California plates to drive herself to Gene Juarez to get her hair did.  Whatever.

But get this:  Tonight, the National Weather Service has issued a “Special Weather Statement” for the armpit of the West Coast because of incoming storms and guess what?  It’s gonna rain and the shizzle is gonna be crazy.  I quote:

This storm will bring light to moderate amounts of rainfall to the area. . . .  Areas should receive between [brace yourselves] one quarter and three quarters of an inch of precipitation. . . .  There will be the potential for local ponding of water on freeways and low-lying areas . . . .

Son-of-a-bitch.  Say it ain’t so!  You mean it’s gonna rain in L.A.?  And get this.  Things in Orange County are going to be dire:

Most of the rainfall will be light . . . but with rather long duration and will result in some slippery driving conditions.

I’m certainly glad the people in Southern California are so much stronger and smarter than Seattleites, because HOW THE FUCK ELSE COULD THEY POSSIBLY SURVIVE RAIN IN AMOUNTS MEASURED IN FRACTIONS OF AN INCH?  Oooooo.  Watch out.  Slippery.

Hey, L.A.!  Fuck off, you pretentious assclowns.  Oh, and since we’ve all been stuck inside up here due to actual weather-related travel problems today, we banded together and spent the day calling and having your plastic surgery appointments for next week cancelled.  We wouldn’t want you to go out in the rain unnecessarily and risk your tits, your lips, or your LIVES, now would we?

 

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Puget Sound is no place for winter.  Our proximity to the ocean means heavy, wet snow.  Our proximity to the mountains means too many hills.  Our proximity to Canada means sudden cold snaps often immediately after heavy, wet snow.  Our proximity to Tim Eyman means too little money to pay for better roads, better equipment, better government, better transit.  Our proximity to everywhere else means an influx of a-holes.

Nevertheless, winter has arrived like your mother-in-law:  Sneaky, mean, passive-agressive, and with no sense of when to go the fuck home.  As a result, for the past 48 hours, I have gone exactly no place to which I couldn’t walk, which around here is no where.  Instead, I have watched video after video, news update after update, and picture after picture of stupid, incompetent people doing stupid, incompetent things in laundry baskets, on motorcycles, in their cars, and even on their feet**–to name a few.  And I am over all of this non-sense, you dickbags.

As self-proclaimed Governess of the great State of Washington, I have a proclamation to make.  Puget Sound is fucking closed tomorrow (Friday).  Everything, everywhere, all day long.  No one is permitted to do anything stupid or incompetent that involves any type of transportation.  Just sit down and shut the fuck up for a few more hours.  Tell your boss to go to hell.  Tell your kids that they can eat dry cereal, pine nuts, and that expired can of re-fried beans for dinner just one god damn time in their privileged little lives because you are not going to the grocery store.  Tell your significant other to go scrape the walk until his hands are blistered JUST LIKE YOU DID TODAY, god dammit.  Tell your co-workers that the ice ruined your Internet connection and destroyed the cell phone tower nearest your home.  Tell your friends not to call unless they want to bring alcohol and give you some hot, nasty lovin’ in the hot tub.  Tell yourself to stop obsessing and squeezing your own belly because you have not been able to go the gym or go for a run for what feels like a month and you have several swimsuit or underpants-themed trips in the VERY NEAR FUTURE.

Mark my words:  Tomorrow is going to be a shit-show from a transportation perspective.  It is going to rain like a cow pissing on a frozen, flat rock, on top of two days worth of slush, snow, ice, snow, slush, ice, and a fair amount of frozen dog pee and a little bit of blood.  Don’t ask.  Just prepare for the worst now and get yourself ready to stop you and your friends and family from doing stupid, incompetent shit.  It will be a test of mental acuity and common sense, but we can do it.  Together.  While trapped in the Alcatraz that have become our homes.

Weeble

This could be you!

**A special thank you to the very fat, clutsy man with a blood alcohol level of at least 327.6 who, after leaving Leny’s last night, entertained me and my intrepid gays by falling down not once but TWICE within the course of one block.  The first time, he just flailed around like a Weeble-Wobble on his belly while trying to regain his footing.  After our inquiries into his health, he assured us he was fine before marching down to the other corner, where he promptly toppled over sideways into the bushes like a giant Sequoia.  He did not even bother to remove his hands from his pockets to brace himself.  After our inquiries into his sobriety, he assured us he was completely sober and that he did not need or want any help.  We quickly skated away from him before witnessing his inevitable brain injury.

Remember, tomorrow, nothing stupid or incompetent because you do not want to be someone’s equivalent of the fat, drunk Weeble-Wobble for the rest of your lives.  As always, you are welcome.

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#SNOverreacting

This morning, Cliff Mass scaled his snow forecast back a bit after the morning forecast model runs.  It’s very technical stuff that only geniuses like Cliff and me understand, so I won’t clog up your empty heads with the details. But there is another very compelling reason to scale back the snow forecast, despite the presence of Jim Cantore right here in our histrionic and panicked city.  You know, Jim.  He’s the Weather Channel meteorologist who doesn’t go anywhere that will not be destroyed within two days of his arrival by stunningly frightening and destructive forces of nature.  Congratulations to us.

This is a little known scientific fact, but the amount of snow that will fall is inversely proportional to the amount of hype leading up to the event.  It’s true.  I swear to Santa Claus.  And holy anti-climax has there been a lot of hype.  Look at this riot-inducing shot of Yahoo’s main page moments ago:

Onslaught!

Onslaught. As in, "You will be slaughtered."

Additional headlines:  “Worst is yet to come.”  “Wednesday will be a whopper.Snow “punch” in the box. YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!

Now, even though I have scaled back my own expert forecast for snow based on the Media-Hype Law of Inverse Snow Proportions™, I am still leaving forthwith to purchase as many bottles of liquor as I can, because why the hell not.  I am also going to the gym, so that, in the event of our nearly certain snow-related deaths, I will look better than you in the giant pit where they are going to bulldoze our naked bodies.

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#SnOMG

The earth science geek in me–who, by the way, hates the snow after living in a VERY NORTHERN TIER state for 10 years–is pissing his pants over this ridiculous winter weather that is about to descend on us.  Weather forecasting models, not to mention the addition of new equipment this year, make it nearly certain that the weather is going to go all shitballs in the next like 15 minutes.

But, for those of you (like the RDP) who think that forecasting is about as reliable as fortune telling, I offer you this one, amazingly accurate indicator that the weather is going to be apocalyptic:

Missing Weather Center Live as I am en route to Seattle for pos. Record snow.

I mean, when was the last time you saw Jim Cantore show up somewhere and the god damn sun came out?  NEVER!

Run for your lives, slobs, because the shit is gonna be off the hook.

UPDATE:  Checklist for Snopocalypse 2012:  Liquor, popcorn, condoms, invites to part-time boyfriends who are within walking distance, butter, salt.  What am I missing?

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I wasn’t going to rant tonight, but I had so much fun yesterday with my running rant that I just can’t help myself.  Plus, I learned that the fastest way to become a whore to the Internet is to blog more and TWAT more!  Yay!

The weather in Seattle is making me even more of a crazy, stupid, vapid, worthless, pale, shithead of a monster.  It has been summer for all of like 1 week here.  And that is unacceptable by any standard.  Just ask all of the chronically depressed, pale, vampire people from those movies that teenage girls, desperate gays, and MILFs like to watch that are, NOT COINCIDENTALLY, filmed around these parts.  I am sure, however, that even they would go mortal for a nice summer in this dump.

Don’t believe me?  Ok, you know-it-all nightmares.  Then explain this map.  No, there are not 117 United States suddenly, like some of my pretty (but not smart) friends have alleged.  This is the map that ranks each states’ May to July, 2011 temperatures in comparison to the last 117 years of data for each state.  In other words, the map answers the following question:  How does this summer rank–from a temperature perspective–to the last 117 GOD DAMN YEARS? 

For those of you who cannot or refuse to keep up, I am not proud to tell you that the dark, horrible blue state with a number 1 in it is Washington, where this freak lives.  Do you know what that means?  It means that Mother Nature is a horrible, vindictive, mean, old whore, who has given Washingtonians its coldest summer in one-hundred-mother-fucking-seventeen years.  Merry Hellish Christmas.  And today?  August 30, 2011? We didn’t even make it to 70 degrees. 

Silver lining?  It is nearly impossible to get a nasty, oozing, hairy melanoma in this dump, like the poor slobs in Oklahoma.  It is, however, impossible to function or be happy or like other people.  But I’m incapable of those things, anyway. 

Happy Ice Age, slobs.

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