If you're making a trip of more than seven feet to Punxsutawney to watch a rodent, especially if you were inspired by Groundhog Day... You probably need to be shot.
Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we ask the real meteorologists instead? Oh yeah, because they don't know a fucking thing, either. That should go a long way towards my goal of having sex with a weather girl (because at this point, I have so many bitches to choose from that I can pick whatever profession suits my fancy; also, they love being called "weather girl"). I'll even go for the one on the Weather Channel who's always pregnant, but she's already stopped returning my calls.
I don't know why, but at one point this fetish for weather girls just kinda started when I noticed that a statistically alarming number of them were hot. Wait, "noticed a bunch were hot" sounds suspiciously like a reason for the fetish starting. Okay, it was only like three, but when your life is the sausage fest that mine has become, three is astronomically high. It was mainly two on the Weather Channel, Sharon (the preggo) and some other blonde, and locally we have Kathy Sabine on 9News. Maybe it's now past time with Kathy, but, nah. I'd still do Kathy Sabine.
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