Fuck Seattle and fuck talking about the weather. Have you heard it’s going to be sunny tomorrow? Yeah, asshole. I heard it from my flannel-clad, ironically-mustached, vegan barista. I heard it from the lady walking her gluten-free dog. I heard it all up and down my super hip, totally friendly but way self-righteous Seattle Twitter feed. And I even heard it from that guy with the $400 gore-tex jacket hanging outside the 7-11 begging for change. Because, hey Seattle, I guess you have nothing fucking better to talk about.
But of course, you can’t just stop with one measly observation about the atmosphere’s potential future state. If it’s raining, you ask if it’s still raining. If it’s not raining, you say, at least it’s not raining. If it’s sunny, you tell me to enjoy the sunshine. And if it’s windy, foggy, humid, hot, dry, wet, thundering, stormy or even fucking cloudy, you just can’t help but fucking mention it. So please Seattle, let me graciously provide a small but invaluable piece of far-reaching advice. When it comes to the incessant chit chat about the god damn weather, just shut the fuck up.
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