6/07/2007
You Know What They Say About Toledo Weather: If You Don't Like It, FUCK YOU!
Guest editorial by Karl Draheim, Toledo resident
Listen - I know that you aren't from around here, and that you don't know how things work in Toledo. I heard you whining about the heat, about how muggy and hot and nasty it is today, and I need to let you in on something.
You know what they say about Toledo weather: If you don't like it, FUCK YOU!
Yeah, you heard me. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck the horse you rode in on, fuck your mother, fuck everything. We don't need your kind around here, and it's best if you go fuck yourself, too.
Don't like what I have to say? Just ask around; almost anyone you meet will tell you to go take a flying fuck on a pogo stick, mister. We've just about had enough of your Little Lord Fauntleroy act, let me tell you.
The weather in Toledo will make a man out of you, that's for sure. Why, my daddy used to beat us with those orange Hot Wheels tracks and make us stand outside barefoot in the snow until midnight just because his bowling ball had a scratch on it and how was I supposed to know that was his good ball and can we please come in now daddy because Mark's toes are blue and we promise we'll never roll your bowling ball on our toboggan hill any more promise promise promise!
What's that? Umbrellas? Aisle six, next to the rain ponchos you pasty-faced fuck. Now get out of here!
Listen - I know that you aren't from around here, and that you don't know how things work in Toledo. I heard you whining about the heat, about how muggy and hot and nasty it is today, and I need to let you in on something.
You know what they say about Toledo weather: If you don't like it, FUCK YOU!
Yeah, you heard me. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck the horse you rode in on, fuck your mother, fuck everything. We don't need your kind around here, and it's best if you go fuck yourself, too.
Don't like what I have to say? Just ask around; almost anyone you meet will tell you to go take a flying fuck on a pogo stick, mister. We've just about had enough of your Little Lord Fauntleroy act, let me tell you.
The weather in Toledo will make a man out of you, that's for sure. Why, my daddy used to beat us with those orange Hot Wheels tracks and make us stand outside barefoot in the snow until midnight just because his bowling ball had a scratch on it and how was I supposed to know that was his good ball and can we please come in now daddy because Mark's toes are blue and we promise we'll never roll your bowling ball on our toboggan hill any more promise promise promise!
What's that? Umbrellas? Aisle six, next to the rain ponchos you pasty-faced fuck. Now get out of here!
Labels: fuck you, Toledo, weather
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Diagnosis:
A raging case of severely inflamed hemorrhoids.
Prognosis:
Terminal…
Commentary:
Although the subject projects every outward appearance of having/being a PERFECT ASSHOLE, the evidence is to the contrary, meaning that, no matter how hard he tries to portray himself as a PERFECT ASSHOLE, he remains, and will die being JUST AN AGGRIVATED/AGGGRIVATING run-of-the-mill ASSHOLE all the same.
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A raging case of severely inflamed hemorrhoids.
Prognosis:
Terminal…
Commentary:
Although the subject projects every outward appearance of having/being a PERFECT ASSHOLE, the evidence is to the contrary, meaning that, no matter how hard he tries to portray himself as a PERFECT ASSHOLE, he remains, and will die being JUST AN AGGRIVATED/AGGGRIVATING run-of-the-mill ASSHOLE all the same.
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