Monday, May 10, 2010

There is No Spring

Click to enlarge . . . Marty knows the size of your phallus

I think we can all agree, at this point, that there will be no spring. The calendar says we're right in the heart of it, but I disrespectfully disagree with the calendar and have angrily balled up the month of May and have thrown it against the wall. Then I uncrumbled it . . . because I have an unhealthy lust for Gemma Atkinson. What can I say . . . I'm a bit of an Anglophile.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Spring's half-assed effort in 2010 (in Colorado). Personally, I don't really give a shit that we haven't been blessed with endless days of brilliant sunshine, little wind and temperatures in the 70s. I like the cool weather because it makes me sleep like a bear. Guinness tastes better when it's cold (the weather . . . not the beer, you prick) as well. Ask Gemma up there. But I agree with everybody on the wind. As we've discussed before, wind is Satan's flatulence. Particularly this year with all that pollen and syphilis blowing in the air. It's so bad that, the other day, I found myself hunched over and sneezing wildly at a local Chipotle. Management and customers alike were horrified. I stood up with snot oozing down my face and all over my shirt. No one said a word. It was like church . . . especially with all the accusatory looks. I left and went to Illegal Pete's . . . which is what I should have done in the first place. My apologies to Pete.

On to the great May storm. It looks as though we're going to get some moisture here in Denver, but it seems to be anyone's guess on how much. Gaguilera (above, looking durrrr) thought that Low Pressure would 50/50 the Colorado/New Mexico border giving us the optimal upslope and the massive precip it always provides from this locale. Of course, said prediction is now looking iffy . . . at least according to the models. Coniglio and that bald dude from The Deuce think that the Low will head a little bit north and that will mean less moisture here and more for the north of the state. I urge the Axelrods and Ronnie Cheetahtoes to be on high alert in case these fellars are correct.

Oddly . . . Kathy is nowhere to be found during the time of our greatest need. I have no idea where she might be. Hopefully holding an imaginary candle somewhere sunny:

If any of you FKS readers are handy with Photoshop, please do something awesome with this photo.

Good luck out there the next couple of days,

PS - Speaking of The Deuce, I am hereby declaring my eternal love for Kellie MacMullan. There will be a separate post about this later . . . but I wanted the record to show that old Flip is deeply infatuated at this point.

1 comment:

Denver Devil said...

Hardly awesome, actually pretty lame (tame). I try hard, but most of the time I fail, too :-)

Denver Devil

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