Cowers. Heh. Get it?

Hat tip to Analphilosopher and Peg K.

Batesville Bob paused at his burrow entrance.

“Phuck Punxsutawney Phil’s pathetic prognosticating. He couldn’t pour pee out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel.”

“I’ve been to Groundhog Meteorology University. Studied weather patterns diligently. But does Batesville have a festival honoring me? Noooooo! Those silly humans would rather rely on a perpetually puzzled Pennsylvania poltroon who flees his own ‘oracular’ optical occlusion!”

“I’m not a media whore. I’ll pop up, accurately assess the ambient environment, and predict the end of winter.”

BANG!!

Batesville Bob’s brains bounced bloodily beside the burrow.

Smallholder expelled the cartridge. “Damn rodent.”

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader continues to suffer through his computer problems. He believes he is likely going to reformat his computer’s hard drive over the weekend. So, he should be back to normal next week.

In other news… At Gobbler’s Knob in Punxatawney, PA, a particularly fat rodent saw his shadow. Apparently this means 6 more weeks of winter.

What this says about our society is hard to make out. Who do you trust to make weather predictions? A fat rodent named Phil who lives in Pennsylvania. Or Al Roker?

Carry on.