In what has to be one of the weirdest American traditions next to stabbing each other’s faces off for a 10% off Xbox360 controller the day after Thanksgiving, hundreds pulled themselves out of bed to gather around Punxsutawney Phil’s burrow hole in Pennsylvania to predict if we’ll have six more weeks of whatever season we’re in. The weather tells me that it’s not winter, because I wore a t-shirt yesterday and didn’t get frostbite to the nipples. This is like winter in hell. YAY for global warming! Let’s all raise a can of Aqua Net and spray until the hole in the ozone layer spreads wider than a power bottom on DP Tuesdays at the bathhouse. Keep spraying until it’s ten million degrees everywhere, we’re all in our thongs we can’t walk down the street without tripping over a seal.
Anyway, Punksatwatney Phil pulled his fat, lazy, works-one-day-a-year ass out of his burrow hole this morning and locked eyes with his shadow. Whatever. Phil doesn’t know his asshole from his shadow. I would trust the weather prediction skills of a gerbil out of Richard Gere’s burrow hole before I would ever trust Phil. We should just let Phil live his lazy life by letting him sleep in on February 2nd. Besides, Phil needs his rest, because in a couple of years, winter will not exist and the heat will bring him out of his burrow hole forever. Phil will have to shave his coat off and drag himself across the desert to bitch fight a seal for the last drop of water in a discarded Poland Springs bottle. On that note…
Happy Bill Murray Day, everyone!
And here’s some pictures of Phil’s Canadian third cousin, The Lesbeaver, shooting scenes for the all-girl remake of Gleaming the Cube in Miami yesterday.