First, let's get this important fact out of the way. January 2009 lasted about eleven days. Sure, the calendars indicate otherwise. Thirty-one days. Yeah. Right. What. Ever. Did you live through January 2009? Were you there? Did you enter 2009 with the rest of us and exit January 2009 like everyone else this past Saturday night? Then you know.
You know January was supersonic. Or megasupersonic. Or whatever the quadrupling of hypersupermegasonic might be. January came and went faster than an American kid's virginity. Ridiculous. Came. Went. Like AIG and their bailout money. Here today, gone tomorrow. That was January.
Point: Belabored.
Worse yet, of course, is the awful news from Pennsylvania. I thought I had enough "issues" with Pennsylvania. You know, how it's nothing more than a backwoods slum. The place where all the colonial revolutionaries sent their bastard children. The place where the only thing uglier than the Allentown landscape is the face of an Allentown beauty queen.
It's counter-intuitive, I say. If the bloated mole sees his shadow, that would indicate either the glare of klieg lights or the warm light of the sun. Meaning: He's either in Hollywood, where it's perennially summer. Or the sun's out and, logically, summer is on its way.
No. Phil, that sack of egomaniacal rodent puke, thinks and feels with all his chunky being that seeing his shadow means six more weeks of winter. Six more weeks! Sweet Baby Jesus and all His Merry Widows! Phil saw his shadow! Everyone, back inside! Leave the children, save yourselves!
Ugh.
"I see my shadow. Is that really me? Am I really that chubby? I am. Therefore, I'm going back inside to hibernate another month or so, shed some pounds. Grab some shut-eye. Be ready for bathing suit weather on the Jersey shore."
I hate that groundhog.
Back inside people. Might as well have another Christmas while you're at it.
EDIT: Photo -- Miss Allentown, 2009
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