Sons o BITCHES! SONS OF BITCHES!*
*by "sons of bitches" I mean "weather patterns of the Midwest–every single damned one of you."
You sons of bitches had better stop fucking raining ice pellets by tomorrow at 1:40 CST or I will FREAK THE HELL OUT.
Ice pellets. Ice pellets? ICE PELLETS? That’s not even weather, that’s a weapon. IT’S JUST NOT RIGHT.
Well I always knew my father was a dog but… Oh wait, you’re talking about weather weapons.
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