The Flip Man Cometh

I'll be back in the old stomping grounds over the weekend. I hear the weather is going to be nice - so I'll make sure to bring a heavy jacket and snow boots. Every year myself and great friends of FKS gather at a bar during the first Friday of the NCAA basketball tournament to drink and laugh and eat and smoke cigarettes and harass Kansas fans and drink some more. Here's what happened last year. Names have been censored FBI-style to protect the innocent. See you Friday.

RT @MotherNature69: I'm going to bury the High, Mild City

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Your Attention Please

Your Area and the Weather - Don't Get Touched Inappropriately

Your area is going to be violated! Quick, fashion a loin cloth made of plastic wrap and cower meekly in the nearest bathroom stall . . . for WINTER WEATHER is going to wreck your shitty junk. Your area must be protected at all costs. Invest in shields and guns and snow shovels and lice creams and dental dams at once! Actually, just a Nutty Buddy will do.

Anyway, looks like some fun times are afoot for the Mild, High City. Quite a week out there. First you have Tebow getting Tebowned by Timself for 95 percent of the game before Tebowing it around and pulling a Tebow. By the way, we're not talking about him with a hint of adoration without that onside kick. Fucking ridiculous. Then you have the reemergence of the mysterious, delicious McRib.

And now the prospect of a massive dump by Old Man Winter? Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttt . . . you guys are living right.

I'll be back later on with some further analysis of the snowfall predictions . . . mainly those of this blog's namesake and her minions. Right now, they're saying 6-12 inches. You want it, don't you Denver? Yeah. You want it bad.

Talk to you later. I've missed you guys.

-Flipper T.

PS - I need all FKS Weather Spotters to get stoned and then be on hazy alert. I want odd photos and blurry memories of the storm please. Thank you.

3:45

Just so you know, last night on the 10:00PM forecast Sabine said the snow that's been falling since around 11:00AM would actually start at 3:45PM (I have no idea why she picked this particular time - seems like an odd choice). She said it'd be a "quick hitter." She claimed it would be in and then out in no time leaving less than an inch. Maybe she was talking about you in the bedroom.

When the Thundersnowlightning Hits Your Sky Like a Big Pizza Pie, That's Cantore

I need to start by apologizing for my abhorrent lack of coverage of Denver's deep freeze. It's shameful, I know, but I have a reason. It's called gargoyling (see third entry). Some of you may call it twin fire. Whatever the preferred term, shitting lava while projectile vomiting into the bathtub is sure to take the wind out of the sails of even the most hardy blogger, and old Flip is no exception. Sunday night saw my body expel every last drop of its contents and then some which left me in a confused and semi-catatonic state for the next 24 hours. The only activities I could muster energy for was drinking Gatorade(TM), laying on the couch, eating pho and swallowing a vicodin. Things were grim and stinky around FKS headquarters. Luckily, I put my energy into the right activities and am mended as of today . . . just in time to go back to work and enjoy temperatures that would make a Canadian blush.

Yes sir, Old Man Winter came shuffling back to town like a crusty drunk - smacking us all on the knuckles with his cane as he wandered by. He also called us "sons of whores" and "daughters of juggalos." Dude's a crotchety dick. But he did remind us that we live at the bosom of the mighty Rocky Mountains. Denver can indeed be a cruel and unusual place to live in terms of weather. On Friday the high temperature was inching near 70. On Tuesday it barely tickled zero. But so what? Those saps back east would give a lot of cash and appendages for wild swings in temperature. Having feet of snow on the ground for months on end, unless you're in the mountains, is akin to having a cheese grater rubbed slowly up and down your thighs. You feel the pain every inch of the way.

But that's neither here nor there. This post isn't about us. It's about longtime friend of the site, popular action figure and all around bad ass meteorologist Jim Cantore. The exuberance, passion, bewilderment and unadulterated joy displayed by Mr. Cantore on Michigan Avenue last night was simply a sight to behold. I left the weather channel on all evening as I went about my chores (read: napping, masturbation, sighing, sitting in the sauna, sipping spicy Spanish wine) and would rush back to the television anytime they cut live to Cantore. I imagine, by now, you've seen his reaction to the bolt of lightning, but there was more goodness where that came from:



Mother Nature is clearly Cantore's mistress. Look for a Windy City Jim action figure in stores near you . . . coming soon.

And I would be remiss if I didn't give Coniglio some props. He eschewed the coattails of the National Weather Service and correctly predicted the snow Sunday night/Monday morning would be between 1-4 inches (NWS predicted 3-6). Way to trust your gut, sir. You have fortitude and that's all we ask for in our meteorologists. It's why Jimmy Cantore's so god damned awesome. Keep up the good work, Marty.

A Naughty Little Storm

Yeeeaaaaahhhhh . . . that's how a pro does it. A weather quickie . . . in and out . . . not sitting there unloading on you. Sounds like Mrs. Abrams, whom I've expressed considerable amounts of love for, is feeling a bit frisky in this new year. Perhaps, like a lot of couples, the newness of her marriage has worn off and the sex is waning. She is clearly acting out in the hope of capturing my attention and, by god, it has worked. My offer of an unsatisfactory sexual relationship (for her) still stands (erect).

Lucky for us, we have the exact opposite of Stephanie Abrams working here in Denver. I don't know her name . . . and I can't even find it on their site, but she's definitely pretty frightening in that "can't control the volume of one's voice" kind of way. I watched her shrilly belt out the forecast Saturday evening and kept cringing and wincing. It was one of the most abrasive weather forecasts I've ever been a part of. I've posted a couple of photos of this magical creature below. If you're some kind of masochist and want to hear her voice, go here, because I'm not putting people through that.

Seems like the naughty theme should continue - plus, it took me well over an hour to photoshop Sabine into this.

What can I say really, she kind of frightens me. But she seems earnest enough so I won't bust her ovaries too much. Like most, she is forecasting just an absolutely savage 72-hour stretch:

Good God . . . I'm going to be drinking heavily on Tuesday. Like the last storm, I have a hard time believing we'll get anywhere near the high end of the predicted snowfall total. It just seems when arctic air like this is involved, things shrivel and the inches stay lower than expected. Just like when you lay with an icy woman.

Don't get me wrong, I'm rooting for the worst. Any opportunity to show up at least 30 minutes late to work on Monday is one that I'm quite interested in. Pretty much everybody's predicting between 5 and 10 inches of snow for the Denver metro area, with the belief that the most intense period of precip will occur Sunday afternoon/evening. The forecast I trust most is NOAA, because they have the most geeks . . . not a bunch of pretty ladies like the one above. They're calling for between 6 to 10 inches of pow pow. They live in Gnarnia, brah.

Regardless of the snowfall amounts, it's going to be right chilly. Make sure you have all the essentials (pho, whiskey, football, hard wood . . . for your fireplace) and get ready to enjoy an immaculately lazy Sunday. Soak it in, fuckers.

SNOW-MG, LOL!

Look what I found on my Facebook this morning . . . the infamous St. Louis-ophile Ditchfield-Murray - sporting a fancy new name and dispensing ominous news. Very exciting stuff. Normally my Facebook is full of people posting cryptic messages (looking for attention) or quotes with no attributes (really gets my goat). And then there's updates on children (no one cares) and bragging about how great life is (most likely a lie). So it's refreshing to see a local "celebrity" (and I use this term in the loosest way possible) gracing my little sphere doing what she kind of does in very mediocre fashion once in awhile. The only other celebrity on my docket is Jason Mulgrew. His blog (Everything is Wrong With Me) has seen better days, but if you're snowed/frozen in for the next couple of days, I can't recommend enough a thorough poking of the archives. Drink beer while you do so.

Tebow balls . . . I'm rambling. Who gives a shit about the Facebook when we're finally set to add to our impressive one inch snow total for the season (and when I say season, I mean September, 2010 through May, 2011). Virtually everyone's on the same page with this one. Five to ten inches by tomorrow morning and scrotum-clenching cold. Personally, I think it's too cold and we won't get anywhere close to 10 inches of snow. I like Carter's forecast of 5 inches in the city. I'm saying four inches, tops. I'll let Gaguilera break it down one time:


Here's a look at what's going on in Lower Downtown Denver thus far. Be warned . . . it is not at all impressive.



Lastly, I wanted to put all FKS Weather Watchers(TM) on HOT WHITE alert. You know what that means. Speaking of FKS Weather Watchers(TM), I rather enjoyed this text I got from Billy Axelrod on Dec. 26 at 8:01PM MST: Egger's on the weather channel right fucking now. Creamed jeans.

Tebow bless you, Billy.

Lake Snowbegone

Whelp, I hate to be the person who hates to tell you I told you so . . . but La Nina, man. She is a beautiful tease that no meteorologist can refuse. She'll moisten your mountains but leave your plains high and dry. You'll be so desperate for her fluffy flakes that you'll make shameful and pleading predictions, only to have none of them come true. You will be mocked on internet comment boards and cursed loudly at holiday parties . . . for you are the meteorologist who cried snow one too many times.

To wit . . . from Tuesday's (12/14/10) 10PM newscast:



I cherish Mark and Adele's disbelieving silence when Sabine announces that we will have snow. I've watched that moment over and over again and love it a little more each time. It's clearly not their first rodeo. Maybe she meant the royal we . . . meaning whatever destination she fled to (that's right, she went on vacation today) will have snow, because ain't shit falling on the magnificent city of Denver, Colorado. During her weather segment, she went on to say that she expected between 1-3 inches of snow Wednesday night into Thursday. And to be fair, every other "weather expert" said roughly the same thing. Because they all look at the same computer models are deathly afraid to doubt the wisdom of computers. I don't think any of them have any shred of self confidence or moxy. Look, meteorologists, at this point we expect you to be wrong . . . you might as well have some fun and some trust in your own gut.

And 9News, will you please stop obsessing over Minnesota? It's getting kind of weird.


(Wednesday, 12/15/10 - 10PM newscast)

Bake and Flake

Well, I don't know what I expected, but here's the bullshit in video form . . . the first one is from the 9PM newscast on Wednesday (11/10/10) and the second from the 10PM newscast on Thursday (11-11-10):





So . . . yeah . . . here we go again. Sometimes I feel that even if Sabine was traveling back in time from a couple days in the future she'd still fuck up the forecast. It really is remarkable. And, if everything shapes up like it's supposed to (read: La Nina, putos), we should be in for a long, glorious winter of wild and desperate forecasting. For those of you new to the area, La Nina generally keeps us dry here on the Front Range (El Nino always brings the lube). You'd think that would keep the folks whose "job" it is to forecast the weather from getting aroused, but you'd be dead wrong. The longer we go without significant snow, the more desperate they become. You see, "predicting" snow storms feeds the egos of our beloved meteorologists more than anything else. They're like your friend who revels in discovering new bands in that they derive smug satisfaction from giving you their opinion, regardless of your interest or belief. Mark my words, we're going to see some spectacularly errant forecasts this winter . . . and I'm OK with that . . . because I revel in watching them fail. Because I'm a dick.

Speaking of dicks, behold the finest weather dong ever put on television:

You've probably seen it other places, but I would be remiss if I didn't include it here.

Hot, Hot Anger Abounds

Jesus . . . look at the utter contempt on her face. She looks genuinely pissed about this Native American summer we're experiencing. She looks like Elin Woods probably did the night she discovered the extent of Tiger's impressive whoring. I think standing in the 9News Back Yard(TM?) in a black blazer during the record heat simply pushed her over the edge. It's really awesome to see. She's taking a stand against mother nature for all us sinners. This aggressive heat will not stand . . . man!


ZOMG! 92 Degrees? How will we ever make it through the day? It was 113 Degrees Fahrenheit in Los Angeles on Monday. Think about that. That's Middle East hot. That's ball-soakingly hot. That's Egger in the sauna hot. Wait . . . where am I going with this? I must be feeling the heat stroke. Wait . . . no . . . that sounds terrible. Here, look at this:



He apparently knew the Barrel Man well and goes by the moniker "Limo Driver." This was during the record heat and after the Broncos unfortunate 27-13 loss to the Colts. I appreciate this gentleman. And he's wearing a denim-like jacket/long sleeve shirt in the boiling afternoon sun. Is he sad? Fuck no. He's happy and hustlin' . . . like we all should be . . . regardless of the temperature.

Speaking of anger, I would be remiss if I didn't tip my cap to the anti-meteorologist rant unleashed by Drew Magary, one of my all time, top five favorite internet personalities. To wit:

Weathermen(women) are the reason your children will become complete pussies when they grow up. No joke. They cancel schools these days if there's a goddamn inch of snow on the ground, and weathermen(women) overhyping storms is part of the reason why. If a weatherman(woman) was shot tomorrow, I would not be sad. I would send the killer a hot post-op tranny to have sex with.

If you're not familiar with Mr. Magary, I hope you become so in the near future.

And a very special thanks to reader and friend of the site Frosty "Jay" Rehmersma for the photos associated with this "story." You're a good man . . . and thorough.

Crystal Balls Out

It's a dark day, my friends. If you haven't heard the news, brace yourselves (and this is going to hit Billy Axelrod particularly hard), FKS favorite Crystal Egger has gone corporate. According to our good friends at the Denver Post, Crystal has begun employment with the Weather Channel. This is what she had to say about leaving the Mile High City:

"It was an honor to live there for four years. But I won't need a snow shovel when I report on your first blizzard." She may have possibly continued, "I will miss Flip Washington most of all. His intense love for weather and for me made my time in Denver the most passionate period of my life. I owe everything I have to him."

It's flattering, no doubt, but also disturbing. I know it won't be long before my idol Jim Cantore woos her with his superior understanding of the pressure gradient and it absolutely sears my soul. But what the hell, it was a good ride while it lasted. I salute Crystal for her service here. Her forecasting, for the most part, was conservative. But her attitude and expert use of makeup were always positive. I'm going to miss her. Farewell, my sweet snow angel.

Speaking of Weather Channel talent, I encountered what appears to be a forecasting mirage during my travels this summer. Let me set the scene . . . I was driving recklessly from Seattle to Denver one brilliant day in July with the intention of stopping in Bozeman, Montana for drinks, regrettable romance and maybe a few winks. Due to a glut in Yellowstone tourists, every hotel from Bozeman eastward was full. At 2:00AM, I finally found a place in Billings . . . a Howard Johnson's with sticky carpets and an air conditioner that rattled the entire room.

It was also filled with bikers who preferred to stay not in their rooms, but in the parking lot outside. Said parking lot was adjacent to my room. This meant I had the honor of listening to them scream like animals and break bottles for two hours. It reminded of college . . . but with a sinister edge.

Circumstances as they were, I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep so I flipped on the Weather Channel. This is what appeared:

Needless to say, things got lusty in a hurry. What she was forecasting is all a blur. How she forecasted it will forever be burned into my psyche. Ninety one degrees never felt so good. But I never caught her name. And a review of the Weather Channel's personalities page provides no clues to this weather vixen's identity. So I turn to you, dear readers, and ask you to use your disturbing internet stalking skills and reveal the name behind the face. Inquiring weather minds want to know.

Lastly, please enjoy the scene I witnessed as I left the HoJo at 9:30AM:

There's a Lot of Weed Going to Waste

Norhwest view from westbound I-70 - Sept. 5, 2010

The canyons west of Boulder are aflame and that can only mean one thing . . . thousands of pounds of pot are being incinerated, but not being properly consumed. Actually, I don't know that for sure . . . I'm merely assuming that the hills northwest of Boulder are full of growers and connoisseurs. This is what I was led to believe after living in the area for five football seasons.

So it's a serious situation. And I probably shouldn't make light of it considering four people are missing, dozens have lost their homes, a popular ranch has burned and they still don't have it anywhere near under control. It's certainly not funny.

But I am continually amazed at people who choose to live in the mountains and then are devastated when a forest fire eventually destroys their property. Fires have been burning in forests since the dawn of time and that's never going to stop. It's nature's way of cleaning and unless you take some pretty radical precautions, you'll be swept under the rug right along with everything else.

I think you assume a pretty high risk when you decide to settle down in a dry, wooded area and I'm not sure you should be surprised when disaster strikes. I would think, if I owned land in such an area, I would be mentally prepared for the day when my house would be reduced to ash and foundation. But every time a fire roars through an affluent mountain town, the majority of folks you see on the news are pained and weeping. And maybe that's the media being dramatic, but, dammit, no matter who you are, you should realize where you live and suck it up. Take your insurance, rebuild, and rest easy knowing that you won't have to deal with another fire for probably the rest of your life. The forest will be back eventually. If not for you, for your kids or grandkids.

That said, I am rather surprised, given where this fire is burning, that they didn't employ the Evergreen Boeing 747 Supertanker. They used several aircraft today to drop 35,000 gallons of retardant. The Supertanker can drop roughly 20,000 gallons in one trip. And I know, for an absolute fact, that the thing is just sitting at an airport in San Bernardino, CA. Seems like a waste of resources.

Dressed in Yellow, Saying "Hello"

God damn I've missed you guys. Just want to let you all know that I'm alive and well and getting geared up for the season. I know there's probably a lot of analysis and chiding and browbeating I could do around here during the summer but, like any professional, I need my time off. Summer fucking sucks anyway. The heat makes me shudder and sweat. It also confuses me. This is no state to be in to properly mock the palm readers who like to paint themselves as predictors of weather.

But fear not, good things are afoot. As you can see, I worked hard on creating a new banner for the site. I'm also on Twitter now . . . my handle or call sign or whatever you call it is @flip_washington. I have one tweet so far. It's about Hurricane Earl.

Anyway, things will start cranking up around here soon so tell your friends. I love you all and look forward to a glorious six months of blown forecasts and awful fashion statements from the matron saint. Join me, won't you? And have yourself a fine Labor Day weekend.

Yours until the Mayan Calendar Runs Out,
Flip

Sister Twistin'

Madness out there today . . . mainly east and north of the city. There were at least three tornadoes spotted, but I really couldn't tell you exactly where they were. I'm guessing one was south of Greeley, but that's as far as I'm willing to go. If any of our FKS Northern Colorado weather spotters got any good looks at the thing, please send that action my way. Too many people are firing off photo after photo to the gimps at 9News and it's making me look bad. I suppose I just ought to show you one of them:

You can see the rest here.

You'll be glad to know that, like 9news, I have a weather deck at FKS headquarters. Some of you are aware of this due to my brave coverage of the late March snowstorm earlier in the year. Whelp, I made it up there tonight and while the video captures very little in the way of compelling weather, I think it still might fire you up:



And if that doesn't amuse you in the slightest, perhaps Miami forecaster John Gualardi's Mother's Day forecast teaser will:

A tip of the cap to HOT HOT JAPAN HOT

Give Us Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Huddled Masses Yearning to Breathe Free

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the first Sabine of Liberty photoshop submission by reader "Denver Devil." This came into the comments section a day before Old Face Andre's work and somehow I missed it. I apologize to you, Devil. It should've been recognized in a more timely fashion. Behold:

What it lacks in complexity, it makes up for in simplicity. Once again Kath is portrayed as a beacon of freedom and hope (in a baseball stadium no less). The irony is not lost on me, sir. Actually, maybe it's not ironic at all. She is, in a twisted way, the American dream: free to "predict" whatever she wants on public airways without repercussion while also being tall and mildly attractive. And she's paid handsomely to do/be these things. That's every immigrant's dream, no? I know it's my dream. I am reasonably tall, so I've got that going for me.

Anyway, much thanks to the Denver Devil, whoever you may be. Be sure to check out his/her flickr . . . even if the photo above is the only one he/she has uploaded thus far. Good things are coming I reckon.

Also, make sure your Spidey sense is up to snuff because it looks like there may be some odd weather heading our way over the next couple of days. Keep your eyes on the sky. And cook me a pie. Apple, por favor.

Yours Always,
Flip

Sabine of Liberty

Ask, and you shall receive. Take a look at this, sir:

My god that is incredible. I am amazed and overjoyed. I'm not even sure what to say, so I'll let the artist, friend of the site and distant relation Old Face Andre, describe his masterpiece:

In this work, Kathy is communicating directly with the heavens through her invisible Spangler-candle. In this rare and mysterious ritual, the powerful heavenly currents surge through her body to Earth, giving her glimpses into future weather patterns situated in and around the Denver Metro area. I chose to depict her as the statue of Liberty, both to symbolize her permanence in Denver meteorological culture and to illustrate the inalienable right to wear bermuda shorts.

Bravo, Andre. I've never been so proud to call you cousin. A brew and burger is on me at My Brother's Bar sometime this weekend. You've earned it.

The Red Coats are Coming!

Well, well, well . . . look who finally came strolling in all dressed up and ready to do some forecastin'. My apologies for the chuckle toward the end of the video, but I couldn't take that tube-of-cherry-red-lipstick ensemble seriously. All I could think about was Dee Reynolds' Desert Rose persona in that episode of "It's Always Sunny" when they wrestle for the troops. That outfit is dog dick red. She looks like the Kool-Aid man's wife. Amazing.

I bet Coniglio's back in the break room stewing as we speak. He does all the heavy lifting for this storm only to have the rug swept out from beneath him at the most critical moment. I can see him sitting there with his hands on his head, a small HD-TV hung in the corner showing Kathy's back yard antics. The volume is low. He looks up at it and stares quizzically for a moment. His Italian blood boils and he stands up solemnly. He straightens his suit. Then the rage then takes hold and he overturns the break room table with a quick underhand lift. Maybe the table catches him on the shin and it just pisses him off more. His face is as red as Kathy's outfit now. He kicks the water cooler with all his might and then storms out of the building. He heads to the Skylark for Heinekens backed by shots of Jameson . . . Jimmy McNulty-style. "This was my storm," he mumbles sadly to the bartender. "This was my storm." The bartender sighs and gives him a round on the house. And hopefully Marty gets lucky.

Anyway, nothing's really changed with the forecast that Marty put together (a lot of moisture, but only a couple of inches of snow here in Denver). I went to the roof of FKS headquarters at 10:32PM to smoke a cigarette and gather some data and can report, at that time, a heavy downpour comprised of half snow and half rain. There was also lightning and thunder. It was exhilarating.

Now it's time for a bourbon and a good, long sleep. I'll check back in tomorrow. Enjoy the show.

Love,
Flip

Mass Confusion Confuses the Masses

As I noted last night/early this morning, no one seems to have a clue what's going to happen:

Denver Post - Forecasters Split on Severity of Midweek Snowstorm

5280 Magazine - Snow: Is it Really on the Way?

cbs4denver.com (Zeppelin) - Snow totals will be light around 1 to 3 inches mainly on the grassy areas. If the storm happens to sink just a little further south, Denver has the potential to see one of those heavy, wet, branch-breaking snow events we can see in the springtime. We are keeping a close eye on the developing track of this storm.

9News.com (Coniglio) - Denver could see rain, snow or a rain/snow mix with not too much accumulation. Fort Collins and Loveland may see heavy snowfall.

weather.gov - SNOWFALL AMOUNTS OF 6 TO 14 INCHES ARE EXPECTED ACROSS THE LOWER ELEVATIONS OF EASTERN LARIMER AND NORTHWESTERN WELD COUNTIES INCLUDING FORT COLLINS. THE HEAVY SNOW COULD BREAK TREE LIMBS AND CAUSE POWER OUTAGES. ACROSS THE REST OF THE PLAINS INCLUDING DENVER...BOULDER...GREELEY...AND POINTS EASTWARD ACROSS THE PLAINS...MOST OF THE PRECIPITATION WILL FALL IN THE FORM OF RAIN. HOWEVER...TEMPERATURES ARE EXPECTED TO TURN COLD ENOUGH FOR SOME SNOWFALL AND POSSIBLE ACCUMULATIONS OF 1 TO 4 INCHES ON GRASSY SURFACES (ed. note - your medical marijuana grow house?) AFTER MIDNIGHT THROUGH LATE WEDNESDAY MORNING.

The last one seems the most confident, so I'll be trusting it . . . which is the same rationalization your mom uses to date that filthy lawyer.

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,
Flip

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.