IT BEGINS

The weather forecast has a snowflake in it. I tell myself I'm too jaded, that they lie and every year I am disappointed. Yet every year I hyperventilate over that snowflake.
It won't happen, rain will piss down and it won't get cold enough to kill a fruitfly.
While "Wet Christmas" is a fine theme for holiday porn, my inner child is tired of being sodomised by that stupid snowflake.
Truly, this is the year I stop looking at the forecast.