Don't Be A Complete Tool

Day 3 of the rain:

Water keeps falling from the sky with no end in sight.  Actually, it's predicted to end on Saturday, but for these parts, it's like saying it will rain to kill all the sinners.  Rain this hard, for this long can only mean one thing: the assholes are popping out of the ground like earthworms.

Death, abuse, war, pestilence of every variety, Britney Spears all take a back seat on the news here.  "Today's top story:  Rain during the night is taking it's toll on valley drivers."  Some douche in a poncho does a live report from in front of a mud puddle. 

I am not fucking joking.

It's pretty funny to watch the weather guy though, because he actually has something to do for once.  Normally, his reports are: "Sunshine and temps to make your out-of-state friends jealous for about the next bajillion days."  Well, until the summer:

Then the lynch mob forms.  Anyway, the rain:

I'm announcing a contest.  The one millionth person that points out that it's "wet outside" or utters any version of "how 'bout that rain" will win one million days locked in a room with nothing to watch but C-Span.  The runner up will get a yeast infection.

Mr. A: this is your only warning not to make fun of me for blow-drying my hair before stepping out into the rain to get it wet again.  I am within arms length of the shotgun. 

Motorists: rain is rare here, but it does not constitute an emergency.  The next fuckwad that blows by us at 70 MPH in the emergency lane is getting an all-expense-paid trip to a Turkish prison.

Let's all work together to get through this 'crisis' people.