I am getting a little pissed off with this impending snow.
It’s all they can talk about on the papers or television. Is it going to be a blizzard? Is it going to be as bad as ’82? Panic!
Naturally all this hype has led to panic buying and the Twitter machine is going into overdrive showing bare shelves in supermarkets where they have run out of milk and bread. For fucks sake!
Unfortunately Herself has got herself into a bit of a state about the whole affair, as she tends to go by the radio rather than the evidence of her own eyes, or even the intellectual prowess of her Better Half.
“I’ll be nipping down to the village later” says I.
“Don’t be daft!” says she. “Don’t you know there are all sorts of weather warnings out there?”
“There’s blue sky with a few clouds” says I.
“It was snowing a few minutes ago.”
“Just a flurry and it’s all melted.”
“Well you’re not going out and that’s the end of it. We have no need for anything. We just had a grocery delivery so what on earth would you be going down to the village for?”
“You are running short of fags.”
“Wrap up well. It’s cold out there.”