02 02 00

groundhog

The Icicle of Doom that we are cultivating at work is going to kill someone. It's about 4 feet long, and has an average diameter of 8 (or so) inches. It looks like thick pieces of yarn all intertwined, and everyday it gets longer and thicker.

Someone's gonna die, I tell you. Someone's gonna walk between the cones we have surrounding the "drop zone", stroll under the damn thing, and it'll break off and crush their skull like a melon.

And I told them. I told them it was dangerous. Every time I walk past it I can hear it chuckling under its breath. "Not today, little friend. Not tomorrow. But soon. Very soon, my friend, I'll crush your skull. Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh..."

I try to ignore it, but it has one of those voices that gets under your skin, a voice that you just can't ignore. And when it kills someone, I'll throw up my hands and say, "I told you! But you wouldn't listen! No one listens to me. No one ever listens to the dispatcher. I'll just sit here and dispatch from now on and never tell you about another safety hazard because no one ever listens to me..."

Ok, I just had to get that off my chest.

For those of you who did not catch the news, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, which means there are six more weeks of winter ahead of us. Like, DUH, Phil. I swear he must be a rocket scientist to have come up with that one. eye roll

I'm sure people in other countries must think Americans completely daft to leave an important part of weather forecasting up to a rodent. A photogenic rodent, to be sure, but still a rodent. Yet every year on February 2nd, newscasters across the country dutifully report on whether the intrepid groundhog saw his shadow, and what this means weather-wise.

Then again, he always seems to be wrong. This might be totally untrue - he might have a 99.9% accuracy rating. But my general perception is that he's a phony. The groundhog is running a scam, assisted by the people of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to dupe the American public.

You know, I've been to Punxsutawney. Yes sirree bob. I drove through it once. It was about 10:30pm. It was dark. There might have been buildings. I assume there were people someplace. I didn't see any groundhogs.

Anyway, Phil's a fake. You heard it here first.

On a complete, totally and almost unrelated subject, we've got another Alberta clipper on the way. Nothing to do with the groundhog, so forget all about that furry little jerk. He doesn't know what he's talking about. The weatherman said temperatures are going to drop and we're supposed to get another 1-3 inches of snow tomorrow.

Never mind that groundhog behind the curtain.

By the beginning of next week, temperatures are supposed to rise again. Take that, you buck-toothed gopher!

What I don't understand is why this whole Groundhog Day thing started. I read the history of it and I'm still confused. Apparently it's a blend of the Candlemas tradition and some German belief about a hedgehog seeing its shadow. When German settlers came to Pennsylvania, they found no hedgehogs but a bunch of groundhogs. Hence, Groundhog Day.

I suppose it makes as much sense as a rabbit delivering brightly colored eggs on the traditional anniversary of Christ's Resurrection.

And Now, a Joke

A brunette, a redhead and a blonde die and go to Heaven. Saint Peter was having a bad day, and decided to quiz everyone entering Heaven to see how religious they were.

So when the brunette approaches the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter asks her, "Tell me what you know about Easter."

The brunette replies, "Well, that's the day than the Easter Bunny goes around delivering eggs and chocolate rabbits to everyone in baskets filled with bright green plastic grass."

Saint Peter rolls his eyes and waves her through the gates. (It wasn't really a test; he just wanted to give everyone a hard time.)

Next the redhead comes up. "Tell me what you know about Easter," St. Peter says.

The redhead thinks for a moment and replies, "Well, that's the day we go to church and the kids are all hyped up on the sugar they ate that morning. You can never hear the service because they're giggling and making so much noise."

"That's it?" Saint Peter asks.

The redhead thinks again and nods. Saint Peter rolls his eyes again and waves her through.

The blonde walks up to Saint Peter, who by this time is drumming his fingers on his desk.

"Tell me what you know about Easter," he says with a sigh.

"Oh, that's easy," says the blonde. "After Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, he was placed in a tomb. Three days later, on Easter Day, he rose from the dead and walked out of his tomb."

Saint Peter sits up and smiles. "That's right!" he says.

The blonde nods. "And if he sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter."

Disclaimer: Yes, I'm blonde. Blonde jokes don't bother me one bit, because they only apply to people who aren't naturally blonde. grin

Disclaimer II: No, I was not on crack when I wrote this entry. Honest.

The Movie