Winter. I've had enough of it. Long ago, when I was young, I liked winter. The snow, sledding, great stuff. I no longer see any value in the season.
You know that wacky groundhog? He was in a movie will Bill Murray.
I never remember what it takes for that groundhog to declare an end to winter: seeing or not seeing his shadow. But whatever it takes to make that son of a bitch declare spring is here, I say we do it. Bring in an army of floodlights so the sucker sees a thousand shadows? Done. Go the other way and make it dark? Blot out the sun with smoke from burning fields of oil. Burn it all down tonight.
I'm willing to kill to the fuzzy fortune teller. These are cruel times - this cold just isn't going away on its own. I can't take the cold anymore. I'm weak.
Our (the human race's) best option may be global warming.
Every journey starts with one step. I've been doing my part every night – I empty cans of spray paint in the backyard. I'm the only person around with green glass in January. And purple, black, and red (the store ran out of green).
You too can can help out, but you don't need to spend your evenings painting the grass. If everyone can commit to a can a night, think of what we can accomplish. The more CFCs we can get into the atmosphere, the better.
But this grassroots effort may only provide the joy of 65 degree Januarys for my grandchildren. And they probably wouldn't even be grateful.
I need results quick. If melting the ice caps is going to make this global warming a reality, I say we take the fight to Antarctica and its northern ally – the North Pole.
Push the button Mr. President and roll out the bombers. Forget the communists, ice is the real problem. Drop the nukes there. Flame-throwers, fire bombs, submarines, whatever it takes to break up ice's grip on our winters.
Ice just doesn't have a chance against a modern mechanized military force.