PSA
(I know, I know. But I haven't blogged in a few days, I've got a lot of something-or-other in me.)
Attention residents of Clearfield, Jefferson, Indiana, Cambria, Blair, and Elk Counties: If you ride an ATV, you're going to die. If your kids get near one? They're going to die too. Even if it's off, the keys are in the next county, and the battery has been removed, the thing will still flip over and crush your children.
In other words, "yer gawn die 'f youse git upside 'n'dem tree-weel'rs. Yer kids is gawn die too, n'matter 'f they war'n helmets 'r naw"
I simply don't know how to state that any more clearly. And now that is out of the way, can we go ahead and just make a box on the front page of the Courier-Express that says "Number of Idiots Culled by ATVs Today" and change the number as necessary, so we get some real news stories? While I feel sorry for the families affected, honestly, you should fucking know better by now. It's kinda like smoking, folks. You know it's not healthy/safe, but you took little baby Jeddro on your 4 wheeler at 50 miles an hour without a helmet anyway? Bite me. I want to read about Trashy Lake, not your personal paean to Darwin.
And WTAJ, I suggest the same for you. Can we just assume that there will be a daily injury/death from one of those damned things and simply throw it up in a graphic at the beginning of the newscast, or make it part of the crawl, so I can find out how many arsons, and "he needed killin'"s took place today? Maybe then we can get to the squirrel on water skis just a bit faster, mhmkay?
Thanks.
(PS- I think we should just have our own thermometer graphic in the New Era and on WGAL that has the following designations "Hot" "Hotter'n'ass" "Fucking hot" and "Jesus Christ, Has the sun gone fucking supernova or something?" so we can shut the fuck up about how goddamned hot it is outside. It's SUMMER, morons. It gets fucking hot. Now where's the squirrel on water skis?)
posted by Special Sauce @ 4:25 PM
4 Comments:
Sauce! I missed you as well. Glad you've returned!
Down here we do talk about the weather more than is probably absolutely necessary...but it's a bonding experience. People that would normally never talk to me are willing to stand in The Only Shade On Fourth Avenue and kvetch about the heat. The heat index supposedly got up to 109 last week, and a guy I know who works downtown paid me $5 to walk four blocks and pick up his prescription because he simply couldn't face it.
I'm talking about how hot it is, aren't I? (Mental head slap.)
I finally realized just exactly how hot it really is when NPR was advising listeners to crack their car windows...because it's hot enough to explode them!
Uh...anyone heading for Antarctica?
Ah! I heard about that on Car Talk! The girl whose windows weren't cracked and they exploded! Wouldn't that just suck it?
I don't think I could ever live in the desert. The wet heat here makes me sick to my stomach a lot; I think I'd become Calista Flockhart in the desert.
They haven't given us the window-crack warning, but last week they had an advisory out to air out your car for at least 15 minutes with all windows rolled down before driving; something about the heat index and the possibility of getting serious burns from handling steering column, etc. It's enough to make me want to go to Alaska.
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