dear weathermen everywhere:
this is my letter of faith termination. i have seen through your evil shroud of wickedness. before i was just a dumb senseless sheep walking with the flock, but the events of the past week have shaken the very foundations of my faith in your capacities and in your righteousness.
you lied to me, weatherman. not in the good way, where you benevolently promised me sunshine and then scratched your head alongside me when the heavens opened and torrential rains came sheeting to earth … no. you lied in the terrible, no-good, very bad way.
on monday, you told me with dapper weatherman glee that it was going to rain all week. rain all week, you said, with your pancake makeup and your toupees and your animated maps. rain! you said, and you made little asinine jokes with the other anchors about what a terrible rainy week it would be in the tri-state area. you don’t care, weatherman! you don’t care if it rains on all the trudging little peons, scuttling to work!
and do you know what, weathermen of the world? it didn’t rain this week, nuh huh, hardly at all. it rained on monday, sure, it wasn’t too hard to predict monday rain on monday morning while it was monday raining. but you said tuesday afternoon! and you said wednesday evening! and you said, thursday into friday! there were little angry clouds, on your little animated maps! you said it would rain, and shattered my little monday spirits, and then blithely laughed about it with your fellow plastic-faced anchors.
but it didn’t rain, you lying snivelling weasels. it was sunny. it was in the seventies. sure, we had a few pansy little rain clouds on wednesday afternoon. but that was it. and lo! the curtain was pulled back on your conniving scheme, on your mass con game. you said it would rain, and it didn’t! you deliberately ruined my monday, and you were lying!
shame on you, weathermen. little peons everywhere, we trust you. i brought my umbrella until thursday, when i wised up to your foul little charade. you don’t know anything about weather! you’re all washed up soap opera stars! and this week, this revelation of epic proportions, has revealed your knavery to the world. fie, weathermen!
and so i say, fellow peons, pay no attention to the man behind the little storm clouds!
i’m so sorry i didn’t mean it please make it stop raining please please please! *sob*